Bowser the Hound | Page 5

is not nearly so easy to pick up a living. Food is quite as
scarce for Blacky the Crow in winter as for any of the other little
people who neither sleep the winter away nor go south. All of the
feathered folks have to work and work hard to find food enough to keep
them warm. You know it is food that makes heat in the body.
So in the winter Blacky is in the habit of flying long distances in search
of food. He often goes some miles from the thick hemlock-tree in the
Green Forest where he spends his nights. You may see him starting out
early in the morning and returning late in the afternoon.
Now Blacky knew all about that river into which Bowser the Hound
had fallen. There was a certain place on that river where Jack Frost
never did succeed in making ice. Sometimes things good to eat would
be washed up along the edge of this open place. Blacky visited it
regularly. He was on the way there now, flying low over the tree-tops.
Presently he came to a little opening among the trees. In the middle of
it was a little house, a rough little house. Blacky knew all about it. It
was a sugar camp. He knew that only in the spring of the year was he
likely to find anybody about there. All the rest of the year it was shut
up. Every time he passed that way Blacky flew over it. Blacky's eyes
are very sharp indeed, as everybody knows. Now, as he drew near, he
noticed right away that the door was partly open. It hadn't been that
way the last time he passed.
"Ho!" exclaimed Blacky. "I wonder if the wind blew that open, or if

there is some one inside. I think I'll watch a while."
So Blacky flew to the top of a tall tree from which he could look all
over the little clearing and could watch the door of the little house.
For a long time he sat there as silent as the trees themselves. Nothing
happened. He began to grow tired. Rather, he began to grow so hungry
that he became impatient. "If there is anybody in there he must be
asleep," muttered Blacky to himself. "I'll see if I can wake him up. Caw,
caw, ca-a-w, caw, caw!"
Blacky waited a few minutes, then repeated his cry. He did this three
times and had just made up his mind that there was nobody inside that
little house when a head appeared in the doorway. Blacky was so
surprised that he nearly fell from his perch.
"As I live," he muttered, "that is Bowser the Hound! It certainly is.
Now what is he doing way over here? I've never known him to go so
far from home before."
CHAPTER VII
BLACKY THE CROW TAKES PITY ON BOWSER
Beneath a coat of ebon hue May beat a heart that's kind and true. The
worst of scamps in time of need Will often do a kindly deed.
_Bowser the Hound._
"Caw, ca-a-w!" exclaimed Blacky the Crow. Bowser looked up to the
top of the tall tree where Blacky sat, and in his great, soft eyes was such
a look of friendliness that it gave Blacky a funny feeling. You know
Blacky is not used to friendly looks. He is used to quite the other kind.
Bowser came out of the old sugar house where he had spent the night
and whined softly as he looked up at Blacky, and as he whined he
wagged his tail ever so slightly. Blacky didn't know what to make of it.
He had never been more surprised in his life. He didn't know which
surprised him most, finding Bowser 'way over here where he had no

business to be, or Bowser's friendliness.
As for Bowser, he had spent such a forlorn, miserable night, and he was
so terribly lonesome, that the very sound of Blacky's voice had given
him a queer thrill. Never had he thought of Blacky the Crow as a friend.
In fact, he never thought much about Blacky at all. Sometimes he had
chased Blacky out of Farmer Brown's corn-field early in the spring but
that is all he ever had had to do with him. Now, however, lonesome and
lost as he was, the sound of a familiar voice made him tingle all over
with a friendly feeling. So he whined softly and wagged his tail feebly
as he looked up at Blacky sitting in the top of a tall tree. Presently
Bowser limped out to the middle of the little clearing and turned first
this way and then that way. Then he sat down and howled dismally. In
an instant Blacky the Crow understood;