m across the
valley to tell me I was not the only watcher in the woods.

Towards dusk I noticed suddenly that the top of the old stub looked a
bit peculiar, but it was some time before I made out a big owl sitting
up there. I had no idea how long he had been there, nor whence he
came. His back was towards me; he sat up very straight and still, so
as to make himself just a piece, the tip end, of the stub. As I
watched, he hooted once and bent forward to listen. Then I pulled on
my string.

With the first rustle of a leaf he whirled and poised forward, in the
intense attitude an eagle takes when he sights the prey. On the
instant he had sighted the cap, wriggling in and out among the low
bushes, and swooped for it like an arrow. Just as he dropped his legs
to strike, I gave a sharp pull, and the cap jumped from under him. He
missed his strike, but wheeled like a fury and struck again. Another
jerk, and again he missed. Then he was at the thicket where I stood;
his fierce yellow eyes glared straight into mine for a startled
instant, and he brushed me with his wings as he sailed away into the
shadow of the spruces.

Small doubt now that I had seen my assailant of the night before; for
an owl has regular hunting grounds, and uses the same watch towers
night after night. He had seen my head in the thicket, and struck at
the first movement. Perceiving his mistake, he kept straight on over
my head; so of course there was nothing in sight when I turned. As an
owl's flight is perfectly noiseless (the wing feathers are wonderfully
soft, and all the laminae are drawn out into hair points, so that the
wings never whirr nor rustle like other birds') I had heard nothing,
though he passed close enough to strike, and I was listening intently.
And so another mystery of the woods was made plain by a little
watching.

Years afterwards, the knowledge gained stood me in good stead in
clearing up another mystery. It was in a lumber camp--always a
superstitious place--in the heart of a Canada forest. I had followed a
wandering herd of caribou too far one day, and late in the afternoon
found myself alone at a river, some twenty miles from my camp, on the
edge of the barren grounds. Somewhere above me I knew that a crew of
lumbermen were at work; so I headed up river to find their camp, if
possible, and avoid sleeping out in the snow and bitter cold. It was
long after dark, and the moon was flooding forest and river with a
wonderful light,