“Lots nicer,” echoed René, adding, “Now tell me a story.”
“Oliver Owl’s mother had told him again and again that he must not go anywhere near the big cave where the wicked witch Gamona lived,” began Jack slowly; “but Oliver was getting so big and strong that he thought he knew how to take care of himself. He had never seen the old woman, of whom all the forest folks spoke in whispers. So, early one evening, his curiosity got the better of him; and while his mother was making the beds—”
“Jack!” interrupted Priscilla, patronizingly, “people don’t make beds at night!”
“The owls do,” he replied gravely, “because they sleep in them all day and go out only at night. Around the big home tree he fluttered carelessly a while; then, suddenly, off like a shot toward a big pile of rocks whose top he could just see. Not a soul did he meet when he reached them, not a sound did he hear except the murmuring of a little breeze in the very top of the pines. So fast had he hurried that he was a very tired bird, and besides the aching of his wings he felt just a little bit doubtful about what would happen to him when he got home. So he alighted on the very highest rock of the big pile to rest, and decided how he would explain his absence to his mother. Hardly had he settled himself comfortably when a huge claw-like hand shot up from below him and grabbed his feet—”
“Oh!” squealed René.
“With a loud squawk he flapped his wings, and, bending and twisting as well as he could, managed to run his sharp beak into the fingers which grasped him. In the instant which was necessary for Gamona to get a fresh grip, Oliver struggled free; and you may believe that he lost no time in flying away from that dangerous spot. Instead of going right home, however, he went to see Glooscap, and tell him what had happened.
“‘My eyes are so small, I can’t see very well,’ he complained, after he had told the whole story.
“‘I’ll fix that,’ replied Glooscap, stroking the bird’s eyes until they became larger and larger and rounder and rounder. ‘Now you’ll be able to see her wherever you are. Keep faithful watch of her, and notify all the other creatures at night when she is near.’ So that is why the owl has such big eyes, and sits up in the trees crying ‘Who-o-o!’ all night long.
“And now you must go to bed.”
Leaving Priscilla to clear up and keep an eye on René, Jack and Desiré crossed to the grove to get things in order for the night. The tent was small, and after several unsuccessful attempts they succeeded in getting it up. Jack cut some balsam boughs for a mattress, and over them Desiré spread blankets, placing a couple of cushions for pillows. The floor of the nearby wagon was fixed in like manner for the two girls. René and Priscilla went to bed as soon as their quarters were ready for them, but Jack and Desiré, seated on a fallen log at the edge of the grove, lingered to watch the moon rising over the Bay and turning its smooth surface to silver. Fireflies flashed in the long grass at the edge of the grove, and deeper in the woods were mysterious little rustles and murmurs.