I hate to go back there in that bright sunshine. It
hurts my eyes, and I don't like it, but I guess I'll have to go back
there. Mrs. Hooty needs my help. I'd rather stay here, but --"
He didn't finish. Instead, he spread his broad wings and flew back
towards the nest and Mrs. Hooty. His great wings made no noise, for
they are made so that he can fly without making a sound. "If I once
get hold of one of those Crows!" he muttered to himself. "If I once
get hold of one of those Crows, I'll --" He didn't say what he
would do, but if you had been near enough to hear the snap of his
bill, you could have guessed the rest.
All this time the Crows were having what they called fun with
Mrs. Hooty. Nothing is true fun which makes others uncomfortable,
but somehow a great many people seem to forget this. So, while
Blacky sat watching, his relatives made a tremendous racket around
Mrs. Hooty, and the more angry she grew, the more they screamed and
called her names and darted down almost in her face, as they
pretended that they were going to fight her. They were so busy doing
this, and Blacky was so busy watching them, hoping that Mrs. Hooty
would leave her nest and give him a chance to steal the eggs he knew
were under her, that no one gave Hooty a thought.
All of a sudden he was there, right in the tree close to the nest!
No one had heard a sound, but there he was, and in the claws of one
foot he held the tail feathers of one of Blacky's relatives.
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