because he felt his re-sponsi-bil-ity. Every few jumps he would stop to
sit up and look and listen. Then little Miss Fuzzytail would nestle up
close to him, and Peter's heart would swell with happiness, and he would
feel, oh, so proud and important. Once they heard the sharp bark of
Reddy Fox, but it was a long way off, and Peter smiled, for he knew that
Reddy was hunting on the edge of the Green Forest.

Once a dim shadow swept across the meadow grass ahead of them. Peter
dropped flat in the grass and kept perfectly still, and little Miss
Fuzzytail did just as he did, as she had promised she would.

"Wha--what was it?" she whispered.

"I think it was Hooty the Owl," Peter whispered back, "but he didn't see
us." After what seemed like a long, long time they heard Hooty's fierce
hunting call, but it came from way back of them on the edge of the Old
Pasture. Peter hopped to his feet.

"Come on," said he. "There's nothing to fear from him now."

So slowly and watchfully Peter led the way down across the Green Meadows
while the little Stars looked down and twinkled in the most friendly
way, and just as jolly, round, red Mr. Sun started to kick off his
bedclothes behind the Purple Hills they reached the dear Old Briar-
patch.

"Here we are!" cried Peter.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried little Miss Fuzzytail, hopping along one of
Peter's private little paths.