yet seen him. But had Jumper so much as lifted one of those long
ears, Whitey would have seen, and his great claws would have been
reaching for Jumper.

Jumper didn't want to sit still. No, indeed! He wanted to run.
You know it is on those long legs of his that Jumper depends almost
wholly for safety. But there are times for running and times for
sitting still, and this was a time for sitting still. He knew that
Whitey didn't know that he was anywhere near. But just the same it
was hard, very hard to sit there with one he so greatly feared
watching so near. It seemed as if those fierce yellow eyes of
Whitey must see him. They seemed to look right through him.
They made him shake inside.

"I want to run. I want to run. I want to run," Jumper kept saying
to himself. Then he would say, "But I mustn't. I mustn't. I mustn't."
And so Jumper did the hardest thing in the world, -- sat still and
stared danger in the face. He was sitting still to save his life.

Whitey the Snowy Owl was sitting still to catch a dinner. I know
that sounds queer, but it was so. He knew that so long as he sat
still, he was not likely to be seen. It was for this purpose that
Old Mother Nature had given him that coat of white. In the Far North,
which was his real home, everything is white for months and months,
and any one dressed in a dark suit can be seen a long distance.
So Whitey had been given that white coat that he might have
a better chance to catch food enough to keep him alive.

And he had learned how to make the best use of it. Yes, indeed,
he knew how to make the best use of it. It was by doing just what