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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
100
Uttering
an
unnecessary
growl
of
inborn
ferocity
and
joy
she
bounded
into
the
forest,
and
bee-like
sped
for
home.
The
last
quiver
had
gone
from
the
warm
body
of
the
victim
when
she
heard
the
sound
of
heavy
feet
ahead.
She
leaped
on
a
log.
The
wings
of
her
prey
were
muffling
her
eyes,
so
she
laid
the
bird
down
and
held
it
safely
with
one
paw.
The
sound
drew
nearer,
the
bushes
bent,
and
a
Boy
stepped
into
view.
The
old
Lynx
knew
and
hated
his
kind.
She
had
watched
them
at
night,
had
followed
them,
had
been
hunted
and
hurt
by
them.
For
a
moment
they
stood
face
to
face.
The
huntress
growled
a
warning
that
was
also
a
challenge
and
a
defiance,
picked
up
the
bird
and
bounded
from
the
log
into
the
sheltering
bushes.
It
was
a
mile
or
two
to
the
den,
but
she
stayed
not
to
eat
till
the
sunlit
opening
and
the
big
basswood
came
to
view;
then
a
low
"prr-prr"
called
forth
the
little
ones
to
revel
with
their
mother
in
a
plenteous
meal
of
the
choicest
food.
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