Читать книгу Camping in the Winter Woods: Adventures of Two Boys in the Maine Woods онлайн

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George was awakened by the hooting of an owl in a tree close by, and lay for some time listening to the mournful serenade. He heard the deep, heavy breathing of the guide, and knew he was slumbering soundly. Ed did not stir, and he was sure that he, too, was far away in the “land of nod.” The bird continued its dismal hooting; and then, as the fire flickered into new life for a moment, an idea seized the waker.

George rose and slipped noiselessly from his blankets. Then he felt around until he had secured his rifle, and, once in possession of it, he stole quietly out into the darkness.

The owl ceased calling, and the sleepy young hunter strained his eyes in an effort to locate it. Then again came the mocking call, and it seemed to the eager youth as he stood there peering aloft into the dark that the uncanny bird was actually laughing at him.

The fire again flared up and sent its flickering shafts of light high into the surrounding tree-tops. This was the opportunity for George to get his shot. Boldly outlined on the limb sat the owl. George took quick but accurate aim and pulled the trigger as the owl started to vacate its illuminated perch.