"As you may imagine, these two youngsters had never yet been trained to
the useful habit of sleeping with one ear open. They had left that to
their parents. But to-night, even while they slept most soundly,
something within them seemed to keep watch. Whatever it was, suddenly
it woke them. And instantly they were tremendously wide awake. Before
they knew why they did it, they were uncurled from the ball in which
they slept and, crouching side by side, glaring savagely up the narrow
passage that led to their back door.

"There they saw a pair of cruel eyes, small and flaming, and set very
close together, which seemed to float slowly down towards them."

Here Uncle Andy was so inconsiderate as to pause, as if he wanted to
think. The Babe could not hold himself in.

"Was it a snake?" he demanded breathlessly.

"There you go again, interrupting," growled Uncle Andy, most unfairly.
"And who ever heard of a snake's eyes flaming? But the Little Furry
Ones knew what it was at once; and the hair stood straight up on their
necks. Of course they were frightened a little. But most of all were
they in a rage at such an impudent intrusion. There was no sign of
fear, I can tell you, in the low growl which came from between their
long, white, snarling teeth. And those stealthy eyes halted. For half
a minute, motionless, they studied the crouching and defiant
youngsters, evidently surprised to see how big and strong they had
grown. Then, very slowly and with dignity, they withdrew and presently
disappeared. For the weasel, though perhaps the most fearless assassin
that prowls the woods, is no fool. And he saw that the otter children