I think he likes you, Robert.

He lies flattened against the bark, and if I had not seen him descending I would not notice him now, but the glow of the coals still enables me to make out his blazing little red eyes like sparks of fire.

Now he is looking at me, and I don't think he has as much confidence in my harmlessness as he has in yours.

Perhaps it's because he sees my eyes are upon him and he doesn't like to be watched.
He's a saucy little fellow.

Sit still, Robert! I see a black shadow over your head, and I think our little friend, the squirrel, should look out.
Ah, there he goes! Missed! And our handsome young friend, the gray squirrel, is safe! He has scuttled into his hole higher up the tree!" Robert had heard a rush of wings and he had seen a long black shadow pass.
"What was it, Dave ?" he asked.
"A great horned owl.