“How-grrrrr-wow-wurra-Wurra-WURRA-WOW!!!”
In two minutes more there were no owls in that part of the wood. Hoots, Horner, and the rest, when they saw the fiery eyes and glittering teeth of the bear, and heard his terrible roar, as he rushed upon them, loosed their hold of the boy, and flew for their lives. As for Mother Growler—
“I did say,” remarked Bruin, taking some feathers out of his mouth, “that I never would eat another owl unless it was plucked. Feathers are certainly a most inferior article of food; but in a case of this kind it is really the only thing to do. As Coon says, it settles the matter, and there is no further trouble about it. And now,” continued the good bear, “how is my dear boy? Why, Toto! look up, boy. They are all gone, and you are cock of the whole wood. Come, my Toto! I’ll eat them all, if they have hurt the boy!” he added in an undertone.
But Toto made no reply. He had, in point of fact, fainted from exhaustion and excitement.
Bruin sniffed at him, and poked him from head to foot; then, finding that no bones were broken, he lifted the boy gently by the waistband of his breeches, and shambled off in the direction of the cottage.
CHAPTER XII.
The grandmother all this time was wondering very much where her Toto was. “What can have become of the boy?” she said to herself for the twentieth time. “He is always punctual at supper-time; and now it is more than an hour past. It must be quite dark, too, in the wood. Where can he be?” And she went to the door and listened, as she had been listening ever since six o’clock. “Toto!” she said aloud. “Toto, do you hear me?” But no sound came in reply, save the distant hoot of an owl; and reluctantly the good woman closed the door again, and went back to her knitting. She felt very anxious, very much troubled; but what could she do? Blind and alone, she was quite helpless. Suppose the boy should have wandered off into some distant part of the forest, and lost his way? Suppose he should have encountered some fierce wild beast, unlike the friendly creatures with whom he played every day? Suppose—But here the current of her anxious thoughts was interrupted by a sound; a curious sound,—a soft thud against the door, followed by a scratching noise, and a sound of heavy breathing.
The poor grandmother turned cold with fear; she did not dare to move for some minutes; but the thud was repeated several times, as if somebody were trying to knock. She tottered towards the door, and said in a tremulous voice, “Who is there?”
“Only Bruin, ma’am,” was the reply, in a meek growl.