"He hopped about wearily, ate a few flies, and then, quite worn out, fell fast asleep. When he awoke it was dark. Fire-flies flashed about him brilliantly; stars beamed so brightly that they seemed double, half above in the sky, and half below in the water. From some overhanging boughs came a dismal hooting. "'Hush!' cried Arthur, impatiently. 'Why do you want to spoil the night with such wailing?' "'I have lost three lovely little owlets,' was the response. 'Darling little fluffy cherubs! Never had an owl-mother three such beauties!' "'Where are they?' asked Arthur. "'Devoured by a horrible night-hawk,' sobbed the owl. "'Where has the night-hawk flown?' "'Far down the river after prey.' "'Why do you not go after him and punish him?' "'It is too far, and I am too sorrowful.' "'You have no spirit. _I_ would peck his eyes out were I in your place.' "'Ah! you are young and strong and brave.' "'Take me on your back, and we will fly after him.' "'Come, then, and do battle for me, noble friend.' "Down flew the owl, and up jumped Arthur quickly on its back, inwardly wondering how a frog could be a match for a night-hawk, but quite resolved to aid the poor owl if he could. With a delightful sense of freedom and glorious liberty, such as he had never before even imagined, they rose high above the tree-tops. "The moon had now risen, and the air seemed transparent silver. "Keeping near the border of the river, which had greatly widened, they emerged from one forest only to enter another. "The wild cries of loons saluted them; herds of deer, cooling themselves in the water, glanced up with startled gaze as they passed. "A dark bird flapped low over the water as a fish leaped from the waves. "'It is my enemy,' whispered the owl. "'Pursue him,' returned Arthur. "'My heart sinks within me; the memory of my owlets subdues all revengefulness. Though I should make him suffer, it would not return to me my children.' "'But if we kill him he can do no further mischief.' "'True, true; but he is a fearful fellow. What weapons have you with which to meet him?' "'None but my eyes and legs; a frog is a poor despicable wretch under such circumstances. Our weight together might sink him. You must fly at him with one tremendous blow, get him down in the water, and all the fish will assist to punish him, for all owe him a grudge. Or stay: fly close to him, and I will leap upon him; the weight will surprise and annoy him, and you must then make a dash for his eyes. Pluck them out if you can; it will be worse than death for him.' "'Barbaric torture! But the memory of my owlets hardens my motherly heart; it pulsates with tremendous force; their loss is the world's loss. I hasten to the combat.'