Pretty clever of them, wasn’t it? But you forget that Killer was clever, too. Though I don’t blame you for that—so did the Woodsfolk. They never dreamed that Killer would find out where they’d run away to. Or that he’d be bold enough to follow them. People always forget that the old saying “He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day,â€� doesn’t mean that he who runs away gets out of fighting for good and all.
No, it was war to the tooth in the end. Fur and feathers fought together on both sides, for the Bad Little Owls kept right on helping Killer—they didn’t dare not to. And every decent bird was more than willing to wear out his summer wings, if need be, to help good old Doctor Muskrat and his friends. So it was pretty even.
But the Woodsfolk won in the end—’cause they had help that was neither one nor tother—feathers or fur, or even skin or scales. It was something Mother Nature herself had never dreamed of in the First-Off Beginning of Things. It was——
Why, Great beef-bones! as Watch would say. Here I am at ’most the very last line in this book. Well, you’d better copy that wise dog and think about all the nicest things you know to keep from worrying while you wait for the next story to find out just what it was.
THE END