sset. An owl
has never really begun to fight until he uses his wings, and with a
joyous hissing, Papayuchisew began beating his antagonist so fast and
so viciously that Baree was dazed. He was compelled to close his eyes,
and he snapped blindly. For the first time since the battle began he
felt a strong inclination to get away. He tried to tear himself free
with his forepaws, but Papayuchisew--slow to reason but of firm
conviction--hung to Baree's ear like grim fate.

At this critical point, when the understanding of defeat was forming
itself swiftly in Baree's mind, chance saved him. His fangs closed on
one of the owlet's tender feet. Papayuchisew gave a sudden squeak. The
ear was free at last--and with a snarl of triumph Baree gave a vicious
tug at Papayuchisew's leg.

In the excitement of battle he had not heard the rushing tumult of the
creek close under them, and over the edge of a rock Papayuchisew and he
went together, the chill water of the rain-swollen stream muffling a
final snarl and a final hiss of the two little fighters.

CHAPTER 3

To Papayuchisew, after his first mouthful of water, the stream was
almost as safe as the air, for he went sailing down it with the
lightness of a gull, wondering in his slow-thinking big head why he was
moving so swiftly and so pleasantly without any effort of his own.

To Baree it was a different matter. He went down almost like a stone. A
mighty roaring filled his ears; it was dark, suffocating, terrible. In
the swift current he was twisted over and over. For a distance of
twenty feet he was under water. Then he rose to the surface and
desperately began using his legs. It was of little use. He had only
time to blink once or twice and catch a lungful of air when he shot
into a current that was running like a millrace between the butts of
two fallen trees, and for another twenty feet the sharpest eyes could
not have seen hair or hide of him. He came up again at the edge of a
shallow riffle over which the water ran like the rapids at Niagara in
miniature, and for fifty or sixty yards he was flung along like a hairy
ball. From this he was hurled into a deep, cold pool. And then--half
dead--he found himself crawling out on a gravelly bar.

For a long time Baree lay there in a pool of sunlight without moving.
His ear hurt him; his nose was raw, and burned as if he had thrust it
into fire. His legs and body were sore, and as he began to wander along
the gravel bar, he was