The Shadow of the Great Owl Swooped Over Peter

For all the light of the day, it seemed to peter had suddenly died out. Over his head, the spruce and cedar and balsam tops grew so thick they were like a canopy of night. Through them, the snow never came in winter. And under them the light of a blazing sun was only a ghostly twilight. As he stood there, his whole soul burning with a desire to see his way out, peter began to hear strange sounds. Most fearsome was a hissing that came and went, sometimes very near to him, accompanied by a grating noise that curdled his blood.

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