Now, Tommy Fox had not eaten a grouse for a long, long time. He had
never captured a grouse himself. In fact, he had never even tried,
since that time in the summer, when old Mother Grouse had played a
trick on him, and led him away from her children.

Tommy made up his mind now that he was old enough and wise enough to
capture Mr. Grouse. But he thought he had better wait until night,
when Mr. Grouse couldn't see well. Tommy Fox's eyes, you know, were
even sharper at night than they were in the daytime.

Well! Tommy Fox went home. And that very night he stole back again to
the clump of evergreens where he had heard Mr. Grouse drumming.

It was pretty dark up there on the mountain. But Tommy had no trouble
at all in finding his way. And he kept looking up at the thick
branches of the evergreens, for he hoped that Mr. Grouse was asleep on
a low branch, which he could reach with a good, high jump.

Yes--it was dark. And it was very cold up there on Blue Mountain, for
all it was early springtime. And the evergreen trees bowed beneath a
burden of snow, which had fallen only the day before.

It was very still in the forest. And when Tommy Fox suddenly heard a
cry of _"Whoo--whoo--whoo!"_ he jumped, in spite of himself. Tommy
knew, right away, that it was only Mr. Owl. And he felt very sheepish.
And then all at once Tommy jumped again. This time he was terribly
frightened, for the strangest thing happened. The snow rose right up
beneath his feet, and flew in his face. And something struck him a
good, hard blow under his chin. Tommy fell over backward in the snow,
he was so surprised. And a roar like thunder rang through the forest.