I know
that sounds queer, but it was so. He knew that so long as he sat
still, he was not likely to be seen. It was for this purpose that
Old Mother Nature had given him that coat of white. In the Far North,
which was his real home, everything is white for months and months,
and any one dressed in a dark suit can be seen a long distance.
So Whitey had been given that white coat that he might have
a better chance to catch food enough to keep him alive.
And he had learned how to make the best use of it. Yes, indeed,
he knew how to make the best use of it. It was by doing just what
he was doing now, -- sitting perfectly still. Just before he had
alighted on that stump he had seen something move at the entrance
to a little round hole in the snow. He was sure of it.
"A Mouse," thought Whitey, and alighted on that stump. "He saw me
flying, but he'll forget about it after a while and will come out
again. He won't see me then if I don't move. And I won't move
until he is far enough from that hole for me to catch him before he
can get back to it."
So the two watchers in white sat without moving for the longest time,
one watching for a dinner and the other watching the other watcher.
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