The Spider and the Owl … N.H. Steed

the way home.” Still crouched against the tree, Autumn thought about the spider’s plan for several minutes, then, at last, decided it was worth trying. Reaching out a hand, she was about to grab the spider’s silky web when, all at once, a voice stopped her. “Wait! Don’t do it!” Autumn and the spider both turned to see a white snowy owl swoop down and land in the grass beside them. The owl had been perched in a nearby hemlock and had heard everything. “Don’t touch the spider’s web,” said the owl, looking at Autumn and staring with unblinking yellow eyes. “If you do, you’ll get caught, and the spider will wrap you all up and eat you later when he’s good and ready. I’ve seen it before.” “That’s a lie,” the spider spat angrily. “I don’t eat little girls, and my webs never hurt anyone.” The spider was very cunning, but the owl was very

wise.

“Okay,” said the owl. “If your webs won’t hurt the little girl, then why don’t you show her—wrap yourself in the web and show the girl that it’s safe.” The spider smirked arrogantly and said, “Very well, old bird, I will!” With that, the big green spider began spinning its silky silver thread and wrapping it tightly all across its arms and legs. After a minute, the spider was so knotted and entwined that it fell over onto the ground, unable to even move. “You see,” said the owl, turning to Autumn. “The spider just wanted to eat you up.”

Creative Works… 197 Seeing the deadly trap she had almost blundered into, Autumn began to cry. “I just want to go home.” The old owl gently placed its wing over Autumn’s shoulder. “Perhaps I can assist,” he said. “Really, you’ll help me?” asked Autumn, wiping her

eyes.

“Indeed, I will.” The old owl bent down. “There now, climb onto my back and hold on. Scrambling on to the owl’s back, and being careful not to accidentally pluck one of its white feathers, Autumn wrapped her arms around it and held on tight. At once, the old owl sprung high into the hair and flapped its great wings. Well above the dark trees of the wood, they soared through the clouds, searching far and wide for Autumn’s village. At last, they spotted it in the distance, and the old owl swooped down, alighting on a low branch. Autumn slid down onto the ground and looked up at the kind bird who had saved her life. “How can I ever thank you?” she asked. The owl twisted its head around and hooted. “There’s no need to thank me, little one. However, you can do me a favor.” “What is it?” asked Autumn. “In the future,” said the owl, leaning forward, “promise me that you’ll never trust spiders.”