242 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
the terrible bite of its jaws to land with the ac- 
curacy of a rifle shot, the thing aimed at is not at 
all likely to come off on top. Red Slayer’s con- 
fidence in himself was not misplaced. 
Yet he had certain fears—not grave fears, but 
rather wholesome respects for antagonists. He 
respected Big Reddy and the other foxes, because 
their noses were as good as his, and if they caught 
him out on the open, some distance from a wall or 
broken ground or thick bushes, they could make 
it hot for him. He respected, in winter, the great 
horned owls who lived up in the mountain woods 
where he often went to hunt deer-mice. The 
owls, with their uncanny eyes, and their advan- 
tage of being in the air where the scent escaped 
him, had to be watched for carefully, of course. 
So did the hawks in the warmer seasons. He re- 
spected, also, his cousins, the mink, who lived by 
the meadow brook—respected and a little envied 
them. He not infrequently wandered down 
through the meadows on his hunting expeditions, 
both in winter and summer. In winter there 
were many field-mice to be had there, and in sum- 
mer luscious young meadow larks on their nests 
