istened as indifferently as if it had been the whistling of
the wind. At last she stopped.

"'Anything more to say, ma'am?' he asked politely.

"Mrs. Murdoch snorted a negative.

"'Then all _I_ hev to say,' he went on, 'is that to _my_ mind _mothers_
has _rights_. That there b'ar's a mother, an' she's got feelin's, like
you, an' she's come after her young un, like you--an' I wasn't a-goin'
to see her robbed of him.'"

CHAPTER XIII

THE LITTLE SLY ONE

From away up near the top of the rocky hill that rose abruptly across
the inlet came a terrible screech, piercing and startling.

"Gee!" said the Babe, slipping closer to Uncle Andy, where they sat
together on a log by the water. "I'm glad that's away over there!
What is it, Uncle Andy?"

"Lynx!" replied Uncle Andy, puffing at his pipe.

"What did he go and do _that_ for?"

"Well," said Uncle Andy presently, "if you'll try your level best to
listen without interrupting, I'll tell you."

"I'm _not_ interrupting!" protested the Babe.

"_Of_ course not!" agreed Uncle Andy. "Well, you see, the lynx is the
slyest thing that goes on four legs. You think, maybe, a fox is sly.
That fool guide Bill's told you that. Now, a fox is sly when he
chooses to be, and when he wants to be impudent he'd sass King Solomon
to his face. But a lynx is just born sly, and can't even think of
outgrowing it."

"I don't see anything sly about that noise he made just now!" said the
Babe.

"There you go!" exclaimed Uncle Andy. Then he stopped and thought for
quite a while. But as the Babe never spoke a word he soon went on
again.

"You see, I was just coming to that. That awful screech is one of the
slyest things he does. That fellow has been hunting a while without
catching anything. Creeping, creeping on his great furry feet, making
no more sound than the shadow of the leaf on the moss; for all his
quietness he hasn't had any luck. So at last, hiding behind a bush, he
let out that screech just to start things moving. Did you notice how
quick it stopped? Well, he knew if there was any rabbit or partridge
asleep near by it would be so startled it would jump and make a noise;
and then he'd be on it before it could more than get its eyes open.
Don't you call that sly?"

The Babe merely nodded, being resolved not to interrupt.

"Good," said Uncle Andy. "You're improving a lot. Now, let me tell
you, the slyest thing of all is the Little Sly One, which those who