A baby snowshoe rabbit, a third grown, hopped out into the open close to the cabin door, and as it nibbled at the green grass, a gray catapult of claw and feathers shot out of the air, and Peter heard the crying agony of the rabbit as the owl bore it off into the thick spruce tops.

Even then--unafraid--Peter wanted to go out into the moon glow! At last, there was an end to his wait.

He heard footsteps, and Jolly Roger came from out of the yellow moon-mist of the night and stopped in front of the door.

There he stood, making no sound, and looking into the west, where the sky was ablaze with stars over the tree-tops.

There was a glad little yip in Peter's throat, but he choked it back.