I04 IV ays of Wood Folk. 



screaming back again, hopping about on their perches, 

 cawing at every breath, nodding their heads, striking 

 tlie branches, and acting for all the world like excited 

 stump speakers. 



The din grows louder and louder ; fresh voices are 

 coming in every minute ; and the owl, wondering in 

 some vague way if he is the cause of it all, flies off to 

 some other tree where he can be quiet and go to sleep. 

 Then, with a great rush and clatter, the crows follow, 

 some swift old scout keeping close to the owl and 

 screaming all the way to guide the whole cawing 

 rabble. When the owl stops they gather round again 

 and go through the same performance more excitedly 

 than before. So it continues till the owl finds some 

 hollow tree and goes in out of sight, leaving them to 

 caw themselves tired ; or else he finds some dense 

 pine grove, and doubles about here and there, with 

 that shadowy noiseless flight of his, till he has thrown 

 them off the track. Then he flies into the thickest 

 tree he can find, generally outside the grove where 

 the crows are looking, and sitting close up against 

 the trunk blinks his gr*eat yellow eyes and listens 

 to the racket that goes sweeping through the grove, 

 peering curiously into every thick pine, searching 

 everywhere for the lost excitement. 



The crows give him up reluctantly. They circle 

 for a few minutes over the grove, rising and falling 



