Challoner had shot big Canada geese
and huge-winged cranes. Miki had eaten their flesh. Twice he had
pursued wounded cranes, yapping at the top of his voice, AND THEY HAD
RUN FROM HIM. He did not bark or yelp now. Like a flash he launched
himself into the feathered mass of the owl. His fourteen pounds of
flesh and bone landed with the force of a stone, and Oohoomisew was
torn from his hold and flung with a great flutter of wings upon his
side.

Before he could recover his balance Miki was at him again, striking
full at his head, where he had struck at the wounded crane. Oohoomisew
went flat on his back--and for the first time Miki let out of his
throat a series of savage and snarling yelps. It was a new sound to
Oohoomisew and his blood-thirsty brethren watching the struggle from
out of the gloom. The snapping beaks drifted farther away, and
Oohoomisew, with a sudden sweep of wings, vaulted into the air.

With his big forefeet planted firmly and his snarling face turned up to
the black wall of the tree-tops Miki continued to bark and howl
defiantly. He wanted the bird to come back. He wanted to tear and rip
at its feathers, and as he sent out his frantic challenge Neewa rolled
over, got on his feet, and with a warning squeal to Miki once more set
off in flight. If Miki was ignorant in the matter, HE at least
understood the situation. Again it was the instinct born of countless
generations. He knew that in the black pits about them hovered
death--and he ran as he had never run before in his life. As Miki
followed, the shadows were beginning to float nearer again.

Ahead of them they saw a glimmer of sunshine. The trees grew taller,
and soon the day began breaking through so that there were no longer
the cavernous hollows of gloom about them. If they had gone on another
hundred yards they would have come to the edge of the big plain, the
hunting grounds of the owls. But the flame of self-preservation was hot
in Neewa's head; he was still dazed by the thunderous beat of wings;
his sides burned where Oohoomisew's talons had scarred his flesh; so,
when he saw in his path a tangled windfall of tree trunks he dived into
the security of it so swiftly that for a moment or two Miki wondered
where he had gone.

Crawling into the windfall after him Miki turned and poked out his
head. He was not satisfied. His lips were still drawn back, and he
continued to growl. He had beaten his enemy. He had knocked it over
fairly, and had