f their central chamber they tunneled a new passageway, which
brought them out quite on the other side of the hillock. This done,
they felt very pleased with themselves, and settled down for a
well-earned sleep, curled up in a furry ball together.

"At daybreak the owls came home. Confidently they ducked their big,
round heads and dived down the old entrance, only to be brought up with
a bump when they had gone about three feet. Out they came in a rage,
fluffing their feathers and snapping their beaks, and stood on each
side of the hole to talk the affair over. First, one and then the
other reentered to investigate. They found it quite inexplicable.
They felt sure this _was_ the way they had previously entered--so sure,
in fact, that again and again they tried it, only growing more and more
puzzled and indignant with each attempt. Finally they came to the
conclusion that they must have made some mistake. They scuttled
solemnly round the hillock, and came upon the new entrance. Ah, of
course, they _had_ been mistaken. Their indignation vanished. They
scurried in cheerfully, one hard upon the other's tail, and took up
their place in their adopted corner. The Little Villager and his mate
opened disgusted eyes upon them for a second, then went to sleep again,
relinquishing all thought of further protest.

"After this, for a time, there was perfect peace in the house, the
peace of mutual aversion. Hosts and guests ignored each other
scrupulously. But after a while a family was born to the Little
Villager, a litter of absurd, blind, tiny whimperers, all heads and
hungry mouths. The two owls were immensely interested at once, but
their efforts to show their interest were met by such an astonishing
display of ferocity on the part of both the Little Villager and his
mate that they discreetly withdrew their advances and once more kept
strictly to themselves. They knew their business, these owls; and they
knew they would lose nothing in the long run by a little temporary
forbearance. They were well aware, from past experience with prairie
dogs, that the vigilance of the happy parents would relax in course of
time, and that all the while the little ones, growing larger and
plumper every day, would be getting better worth the interest of an
appreciative owl.

"The event proved they were right. As the days went by, and the young
ones grew lively and independent, the Little Villager and his mate grew
less and less