anxious about them. Their soft eyes now wide open, they
would leave the nest and wander about the burrow, in spite of all that
their mother or their father (whichever happened to be in charge at the
time) could do to prevent them. There were so many of them, moreover,
that it was quite impossible to keep an eye on them all at once.

"Late one afternoon, in that debatable time when the owls in their
corner were just beginning to wake up, two of the youngsters ran over
quite near them. The temptation was irresistible. There was a light
pounce, a light squeak instantly strangled, and _one_ of the
youngsters, badly frightened, ran back to the mother. The other
remained, limp and motionless, in the owl's corner, with a set of
steel-like talons clutching it.

"The mother started to the rescue boldly. But the moment she left the
rest of the litter the second owl hopped over toward them. She paused
in an agony of irresolution. Then she turned and scurried back. She
could not sacrifice all for the sake of one. But as she gathered the
survivors to her she barked and chattered furious defiance at the
murderer. Her clatter brought down the Little Villager himself, and
together they hurled all the insults they could think of at the owl,
who, however, calmly turned his feathery back upon them and proceeded
to devour his easy prey.

"For some days there was renewed vigilance, and the little ones kept
close to their parents' side. But the memory of a prairie dog,
especially of a young prairie dog, is distinctly short. Soon there was
more wandering from the nest, and then a lot of childish racing about
the floor of the burrow. Again a youngster went too near the owls'
corner and remained there. This time there was no fuss about it,
because the slaughter was accomplished quite silently, and the mother
did not happen to see. After this there would never be more than two
or three days go by without the sudden disappearance of one or another
of the litter, which, after all, kept the burrow from becoming too
crowded. The youngsters were getting so big by now that their parents
began to lose all interest in them. It became time for them to be
weaned. But as the interest of the owls had been increasing as that of
the parents diminished, it happened by this time that there was not one
left to wean. So the duty of the furry little mother, with her silly
nose and her big, childish eyes, was singularly simplified. It was no