CHAPTER VIII 
THE WORST NIGHT IN BOBBY’S LIFE 
Many of the little Woodland Folk had 
left Round-Top forever,—driven away 
by the hunters from the valley settle¬ 
ments, who came to the dear, old Hill 
with the smoke-smell and the man-smell 
that Bobby hated so fiercely. Once, as he 
crept home to the PIollow Tree Plouse, he 
had seen something bright and glistening 
lying in the old runway. Bobby stopped 
and sniffed and, as the keen, winter wind 
blew toward him, the Glittering Thing 
smelled of man! With a savage snarl, 
Bobby leaped away from it,—walking 
around and around it in a wide circle, 
finally leaving it there as he went, growl¬ 
ing and bristling, to his cave. Day after 
95 
