is own home. At the other end of it he came out into
daylight again; and he knew then that it was an old woodchuck's
burrow, in which nobody lived any longer. And it was the back door
that opened into the hollow stump.

Billy Woodchuck hurried home. He thought that Mr. Fox would stay
near the old stump for some time, waiting for him to come out.

Although he had been so frightened, it was a good lesson for him.
For he had learned that no matter how pleasant a fox might be, it
was wise to have nothing to do with him.

IV

THE GREAT HORNED OWL

Billy Woodchuck knew that the Great Horned Owl was a dangerous
person. His mother had often told him that. But he had never yet
seen the Great Horned Owl; and Billy wondered how he should know
him if he should ever happen to meet him. So Billy Woodchuck went
indoors and asked his mother to tell him how the Great Horned Owl
looked.

"He's a big fellow," said Mrs. Woodchuck--"almost as big as the
Great Gray Owl and the Snowy Owl. But you can tell him from them by
his ear-tufts, which stick up from his head like horns."

"What color is he?" Billy inquired.

"Buff and black," Mrs. Woodchuck answered. "He's mottled--that
means about the same as spotted," she explained. "I've heard him
called the 'tiger among birds.' But whether it's because of the
spots, or because he's so fierce, I really don't know."

"Maybe it's _both_," Billy suggested.

"Perhaps!" his mother said. "He has a deep voice," she continued.
"And he calls '_Whoo, hoo-hoo-hoo, whoo, whoo!_' If you heard him
in the woods you might almost think it was old dog Spot barking.
But when he screams"--Mrs. Woodchuck shuddered--"_then_ you'll know
him. For his scream is the most dreadful sound that was ever
heard."

"I wish you would scream like him once," said Billy.

"Bless your heart!" said his mother. "My voice may not be very
sweet, but I never could screech like him."

"Why doesn't Johnnie Green shoot him?" Billy asked. "If he only
would, the Great Horned Owl could never trouble us any more."

"Why, there's more than just _one_!" his mother exclaimed. "When I
say 'the Great Horned Owl,' I don't mean just _one_!"

"Oh!" said Billy. That was different. And then he went out to play
again.

For a long time he couldn't get the Great Horned Owl out of his
mind. Every time he heard the leaves rustle in the trees he jumped
as if forty Great Horned Owls were after him. But since nothing of
the sort happen