"I can't say that I blame you I came mighty
near doing the same thing myself when that fool of a rabbit squealed."
CHAPTER XI
THE LITTLE VILLAGER AND HIS UNFRIENDLY GUESTS
Across the still surface of Silverwater, a-gleam in the amber and
violet dusk, came a deep booming call, hollow and melancholy and
indescribably wild. _Tooh-hoo-oo-whooh-ooh-oo_, and again
_whooh-ooh-ooh-oo_, it sounded; and though the evening was warm the
Child gave a little shiver of delicious awe, as he always did when he
heard the sunset summons of the great horned owl.
"That's a bad fellow for you, the Big Horned Owl," growled Uncle Andy.
"He's worse than a weasel, and that's a hard thing to say about any of
the wild folk. He's everybody's enemy, and always ready to kill much
more than he can eat."
"_Some_ owls aren't bad," suggested the Child. He had a soft spot in
his heart for owls, because they were so downy, and had such round
faces and such round eyes, and looked as if they thought of such
wonderful, mysterious things which they would never tell.
"How do you know that?" demanded Uncle Andy suspiciously. "Mind, I'm
not saying off-hand that it isn't so, but I'd like to know where you
get your information.
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