art Peter let out a little yip. It was a
great satisfaction, just at a moment when his nerves were getting
unsteady, to discover that a monster like this one in the moonlight was
anxious to run away from him. And Peter went on, a bit of pride and
jauntiness in his step, his bony tail a little higher.

A mile farther on, in another yellow pool of the moon, lay the partly
devoured carcass of a fawn. A wolf had killed it, and had fed, and now
two giant owls were rending and tearing in the flesh and bowels of what
the wolf had left. They were Gargantuans of their kind, one a male, the
other a female. Their talons warm in blood, their beaks red, their slow
brains drunk with a ravenous greed, they rose on their great wings in
sullen rage when Peter came suddenly upon them. He had ceased to be
afraid of owls. There was something shivery in the gritting of their
beaks, especially in the dark places, but they had never attacked him,
and had always kept out of his reach. So their presence in a black
spruce top directly over the dead fawn did not hold him back now. He
sniffed at the fresh, sweet meat, and hunger all at once possessed him.
Where the wolf had stripped open a tender flank he began to eat, and as
he ate he growled, so that warning of his possessorship reached the
spruce top.

In answer to it came a stir of wings, and the male owl launched himself
out into the moon glow. The female followed. For a few moments they
floated like gray ghosts over Peter, silent as the night shadows. Then,
with the suddenness and speed of a bolt from a catapult, the giant male
shot out of a silvery mist of gloom and struck Peter. The two rolled
over the carcass of the fawn, and for a space Peter was dazed by the
thundering beat of powerful wings, and the hammering of the owl's beak
at the back of his neck. The male had missed his claw-hold, and driven
by rage and ferocity, fought to impale his victim from the ground,
without launching himself into the air again. Swiftly he struck, again
and again, while his wings beat like clubs. Suddenly his talons sank
into the cloth wrapped about Peter's neck. Terror and shock gave way to
a fighting madness inside Peter now. He struck up, and buried his fangs
in a mass of feathers so thick he could not feel the flesh. He tore at
the padded breast, snarling and beating with his feet, and then, as the
stiletto-points of the owl's talons sank through the cloth into his
neck, his jaws closed on one of the h