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Updated: July 26, 2025
"Whooo-hoo-hoo, whooo-hoo!" came that terrible sound again, and Whitefoot shook until his little teeth rattled. At least, that is the way it seemed to him. It was the voice of Hooty the Owl, and Whitefoot knew that Hooty was sitting on the top of that very stub. He was, so to speak, on the roof of Whitefoot's house.
Somehow, he didn't feel quite so lonely then, and he tried to wink back. Then little, soft, silvery bars of light began to creep through the branches of the trees and along the ground. They were moonbeams, and Sammy could see just a little, a very little. He began to feel better. "Whooo-hoo-hoo, whooo-hoo!" It was a terrible sound, fierce and hungry. Sammy Jay nearly fell from his perch.
Towhit, towhoo! Will some one tell me what to do? My children have an appetite That keeps me hunting all the night, And though their stomachs I may stuff They never seem to have enough. Towhit, towhoo! Towhit, towhoo! Will some one tell me what to do?" When it was dark enough he gave his fierce hunting call "Whooo-hoo- hoo, whoo-hoo!"
And if you are a small boy, and it is towards twilight, you climb down the tree quick and let his nest alone. But the regular whooo-hoo-hoo, whooo-hoo, always five notes, with the second two very short, is a hunting call, and he uses it to alarm the game. That is queer hunting; but his ears account for it.
He had gone but a little way when from just ahead of him the silence of the early evening was broken by a terrifying sound "Whooo-hoo-hoo, whooo-hoo!" It was so sudden and there was in it such a note of fierceness that Peter had all he could do to keep from jumping and running for dear life. But he knew that voice and he knew, too, that safety lay in keeping perfectly still.
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