diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:07:16 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:07:16 -0700 |
| commit | d97825ca8a7c81126e00ff4de134d96db05925f1 (patch) | |
| tree | e8ae1bfcd9f9b2c5d7fbed838f8a8b95b1503024 /37127-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '37127-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/37127-h.htm | 7883 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/left-badger.jpg | bin | 0 -> 3162 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/left-cat.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2934 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/left-fox.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2013 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/left-rabbit.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2199 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p000.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57923 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 19429 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38003 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18922 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p008.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12205 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p011.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16520 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p014.jpg | bin | 0 -> 9711 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p016.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12913 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p019.jpg | bin | 0 -> 23894 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p022.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17604 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p025.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18064 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p029.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22531 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p033.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18838 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p037.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17714 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p039.jpg | bin | 0 -> 10214 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p043.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14111 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p046.jpg | bin | 0 -> 25294 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p048.jpg | bin | 0 -> 33225 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p051.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22241 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p053.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21453 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p054.jpg | bin | 0 -> 5696 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p056.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18376 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p059.jpg | bin | 0 -> 15436 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p063.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74682 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p067.jpg | bin | 0 -> 15625 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p071.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16991 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p075.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32253 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p079.jpg | bin | 0 -> 23096 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p082.jpg | bin | 0 -> 6917 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p085.jpg | bin | 0 -> 23315 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p089.jpg | bin | 0 -> 9153 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p091.jpg | bin | 0 -> 26497 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p095.jpg | bin | 0 -> 8556 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p096.jpg | bin | 0 -> 10840 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p101.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16138 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p105.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14464 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p109.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21227 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p113.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21051 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p116.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14646 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p118.jpg | bin | 0 -> 23174 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p121.jpg | bin | 0 -> 25195 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p124.jpg | bin | 0 -> 28639 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p127.jpg | bin | 0 -> 19010 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p131.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14525 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p133.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20880 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p137.jpg | bin | 0 -> 83834 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p140.jpg | bin | 0 -> 8746 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p142.jpg | bin | 0 -> 28134 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p144.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21203 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p148.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16705 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p150.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24468 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p155.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18649 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p159.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16121 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p164.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18497 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p165.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44075 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p169.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16873 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p173.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21345 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p177.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17295 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p180.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22974 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p183.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31624 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p186.jpg | bin | 0 -> 82020 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p189.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16832 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p190.jpg | bin | 0 -> 42027 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p192.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20103 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p197.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16396 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p205.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24781 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p207.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22152 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p211.jpg | bin | 0 -> 9493 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p214.jpg | bin | 0 -> 15162 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p216.jpg | bin | 0 -> 15056 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p221.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20698 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p222.jpg | bin | 0 -> 5356 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p225.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17842 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p229.jpg | bin | 0 -> 13569 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p233.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14171 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/p234.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12336 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/right-badger.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2398 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/right-cat.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2558 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/right-fox.jpg | bin | 0 -> 3864 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37127-h/images/right-rabbit.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2786 bytes |
85 files changed, 7883 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/37127-h/37127-h.htm b/37127-h/37127-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d3f81c --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/37127-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7883 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> + +<html> + +<head> + + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lives Of The Fur Folk, by M. D. Haviland. + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> + + body { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + } + + #booktitle { + letter-spacing:3px; + } + + .center { + text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + } + + div.center table { + margin-left:auto; + margin-right:auto; + } + + .figcenter { + padding:1em; + text-align:center; + font-size:0.8em; + border:none; + margin:auto; + text-indent:1em; + } + + .footnote { + font-size:0.9em; + margin-right:10%; + margin-left:10%; + } + + .footnote .label { + position:absolute; + right:84%; + text-align:right; + } + + .fnanchor { + vertical-align:super; + font-size:.8em; + text-decoration: + none; + } + + .h1 { + font-size:2em; + margin:.67em 0; + } + + .h1, + .h2, + .h3 { + font-weight:bolder; + text-align:center; + text-indent:0; + } + + h1, + h2, + h3, + hr { + text-align:center; + } + + .h2 { + font-size:1.5em; + margin:.75em 0; + } + + .h3 { + font-size:1.17em; + margin:.83em 0; + } + + hr.chapter { + margin-top:6em; + margin-bottom:4em; + } + + hr.tb { + margin:2em 25%; + width:50%; + } + + p { + text-align:justify; + margin-top:.4em; + margin-bottom:.4em; + text-indent:0; + } + + p.caption { + text-indent:0; + text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + margin-bottom:2em; + } + + p.spacer { + margin-top:2em; + margin-bottom:3em; + } + + p.tb { + margin-top:2em; + } + + .pagenum { +/* visibility:hidden; remove comment out to hide page numbers */ + position:absolute; + right:2%; + font-size:75%; + color:gray; + background-color:inherit; + text-align:right; + text-indent:0; + font-style:normal; + font-weight:normal; + font-variant:normal; + } + + .sc, + .smcap { + font-variant:small-caps; + } + + .split { + float: left; + clear: left; + padding-right: 20px; + padding-left: 0; + padding-top: 0; + padding-bottom: 0; + } + + .splitr { + float: right; + clear: right; + padding-right: 0; + padding-left: 20px; + padding-top: 0; + padding-bottom: 0; + } + + .tdl { + text-align:left; + } + + .tdr { + text-align:right; + padding-right:1em; + } + + div.p3 {background:url(images/p003.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p3-1 {width:600px; height:279px;} + #p3-2 {width:150px; height:124px;} + + div.p7 {background:url(images/p007.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p7-1 {width:98px; height:51px;} + #p7-2 {width:294px; height:120px;} + #p7-3 {width:400px; height:108px;} + + div.p11 {background:url(images/p011.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p11-1 {width:264px; height:107px;} + #p11-2 {width:400px; height:128px;} + + div.p19 {background:url(images/p019.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p19-1 {width:232px; height:105px;} + #p19-2 {width:400px; height:192px;} + + div.p25 {background:url(images/p025.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p25-1 {width:138px; height:85px;} + #p25-2 {width:400px; height:181px;} + + div.p29 {background:url(images/p029.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p29-1 {width:146px; height:245px;} + #p29-2 {width:400px; height:217px;} + + div.p51 {background:url(images/p051.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p51-1 {width:148px; height:95px;} + #p51-2 {width:400px; height:225px;} + + div.p53 {background:url(images/p053.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p53-1 {width:212px; height:163px;} + #p53-2 {width:400px; height:244px;} + + div.p54 {background:url(images/p054.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p54-1 {width:200px; height:97px;} + #p54-2 {width:64px; height:54px;} + + div.p56 {background:url(images/p056.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p56-1 {width:118px; height:20px;} + #p56-2 {width:184px; height:145px;} + #p56-3 {width:400px; height:113px;} + + div.p63 {background:url(images/p063.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p63-1 {width:600px; height:278px;} + #p63-2 {width:146px; height:138px;} + + div.p67 {background:url(images/p067.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p67-1 {width:144px; height:23px;} + #p67-2 {width:232px; height:30px;} + #p67-3 {width:340px; height:56px;} + #p67-4 {width:400px; height:88px;} + + div.p71 {background:url(images/p071.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p71-1 {width:196px; height:159px;} + #p71-2 {width:352px; height:65px;} + #p71-3 {width:400px; height:77px;} + + div.p79 {background:url(images/p079.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p79-1 {width:214px; height:127px;} + #p79-2 {width:400px; height:171px;} + + div.p91 {background:url(images/p091.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p91-1 {width:202px; height:165px;} + #p91-2 {width:400px; height:223px;} + + div.p95 {background:url(images/p095.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p95-1 {width:139px; height:63px;} + #p95-2 {width:400px; height:122px;} + + div.p101 {background:url(images/p101.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p101-1 {width:144px; height:103px;} + #p101-2 {width:400px; height:155px;} + + div.p109 {background:url(images/p109.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p109-1 {width:242px; height:167px;} + #p109-2 {width:400px; height:150px;} + + div.p113 {background:url(images/p113.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p113-1 {width:186px; height:187px;} + #p113-2 {width:400px; height:167px;} + + div.p118 {background:url(images/p118.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p118-1 {width:190px; height:149px;} + #p118-2 {width:400px; height:180px;} + + div.p127 {background:url(images/p127.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p127-1 {width:206px; height:61px;} + #p127-2 {width:284px; height:82px;} + #p127-3 {width:314px; height:38px;} + #p127-4 {width:400px; height:133px;} + + div.p137 {background:url(images/p137.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p137-1 {width:600px; height:259px;} + #p137-2 {width:154px; height:152px;} + + div.p140 {background:url(images/p140.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p140-1 {width:149px; height:101px;} + #p140-2 {width:400px; height:101px;} + + div.p142 {background:url(images/p142.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p142-1 {width:212px; height:33px;} + #p142-2 {width:310px; height:184px;} + #p142-3 {width:378px; height:114px;} + #p142-4 {width:160px; height:35px;} + + div.p148 {background:url(images/p148.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p148-1 {width:284px; height:33px;} + #p148-2 {width:400px; height:167px;} + + div.p155 {background:url(images/p155.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p155-1 {width:62px; height:13px;} + #p155-2 {width:250px; height:62px;} + #p155-3 {width:400px; height:174px;} + + div.p159 {background:url(images/p159.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p159-1 {width:132px; height:59px;} + #p159-2 {width:208px; height:62px;} + #p159-3 {width:400px; height:129px;} + + div.p164 {background:url(images/p164.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p164-1 {width:118px; height:101px;} + #p164-2 {width:400px; height:147px;} + + div.p169 {background:url(images/p169.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p169-1 {width:98px; height:119px;} + #p169-2 {width:400px; height:167px;} + + div.p173 {background:url(images/p173.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p173-1 {width:166px; height:151px;} + #p173-2 {width:400px; height:168px;} + + div.p177 {background:url(images/p177.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p177-1 {width:162px; height:217px;} + #p177-2 {width:400px; height:112px;} + + div.p180 {background:url(images/p180.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p180-1 {width:296px; height:105px;} + #p180-2 {width:382px; height:106px;} + #p180-3 {width:276px; height:110px;} + + div.p186 {background:url(images/p186.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p186-1 {width:600px; height:255px;} + #p186-2 {width:149px; height:165px;} + + div.p189 {background:url(images/p189.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p189-1 {width:156px; height:38px;} + #p189-2 {width:400px; height:174px;} + + div.p192 {background:url(images/p192.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p192-1 {width:182px; height:23px;} + #p192-2 {width:302px; height:70px;} + #p192-3 {width:364px; height:98px;} + #p192-4 {width:282px; height:66px;} + + div.p197 {background:url(images/p197.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p197-1 {width:126px; height:48px;} + #p197-2 {width:266px; height:60px;} + #p197-3 {width:298px; height:32px;} + #p197-4 {width:390px; height:128px;} + + div.p105 {background:url(images/p105.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p105-0 {width:244px; height:25px;} + #p105-1 {width:254px; height:25px;} + #p105-2 {width:282px; height:25px;} + #p105-3 {width:304px; height:25px;} + #p105-4 {width:329px; height:25px;} + #p105-5 {width:344px; height:25px;} + #p105-6 {width:344px; height:25px;} + #p105-7 {width:354px; height:25px;} + #p105-8 {width:374px; height:25px;} + #p105-9 {width:374px; height:25px;} + + div.p205 {background:url(images/p205.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p205-1 {width:176px; height:34px;} + #p205-2 {width:294px; height:58px;} + #p205-3 {width:390px; height:194px;} + + div.p214 {background:url(images/p214.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p214-1 {width:156px; height:41px;} + #p214-2 {width:194px; height:50px;} + #p214-3 {width:270px; height:52px;} + #p214-4 {width:385px; height:114px;} + + div.p216 {background:url(images/p216.jpg) no-repeat top left} + #p216-1 {width:190px; height:118px;} + #p216-2 {width:400px; height:187px;} + + div.p225 {background:url(images/p225.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p225-1 {width:134px; height:47px;} + #p225-2 {width:212px; height:66px;} + #p225-3 {width:380px; height:162px;} + + div.p229 {background:url(images/p229.jpg) no-repeat top right} + #p229-1 {width:156px; height:64px;} + #p229-2 {width:388px; height:144px;} + + </style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lives of the Fur Folk, by M. D. Haviland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lives of the Fur Folk + +Author: M. D. Haviland + +Illustrator: E. Caldwell + +Release Date: August 19, 2011 [EBook #37127] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF THE FUR FOLK *** + + + + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Matthew Wheaton +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div> + +<h1 id="booktitle">Lives of the Fur Folk</h1> + +<br> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/p000.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="frontispiece" title="frontispiece"> +</div> + +<p class="h1">Lives of the Fur Folk</p> + +<p class="h3">by</p> + +<p class="h2">M. D. Haviland</p> + +<p class="h3"><i>illustrated by</i></p> + +<p class="h2"><span class="smcap"><i>E. Caldwell</i></span></p> + +<br> + +<p class="h3"><i><span class="smcap">Longmans, Green & Company</span></i><br> +<i>39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON<br> +NEW YORK, BOMBAY & CALCUTTA</i><br> +·1910·</p> + +<p class="spacer"></p> + +<p class="h3">TO<br> +E. B. S.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>The following, to a certain extent, are composite +histories—at present our knowledge of the life of +the individual wild animal is too limited to admit +of anything else; but the incidents related are all +founded on fact, and Redpad, Grimalkin, and the +rest actually lived, although here they are sometimes +credited with adventures which in reality befell +others of their race.</p> + +<p>It may be thought that I have gone too far in +endowing wild animals with the primitive elements +of superstition, self-sacrifice, &c.; but although the +majority are certainly guided to a very great extent +by pure instinct, here and there we find one whose +actions cannot be altogether explained thus; and +it must not be forgotten that it is from similar +exceptions, who lived and died in long past ages, +that our own powers of reason and reflection, our +morality, sense of religion, our artists, heroes and +saints have evolved.<span class="pagenum">[viii]</span></p> + +<p>For deciding some knotty points in the natural +history of the badger, I am indebted to an excellent +article on the animal by Mr. Douglas English. The +rest of my information is entirely derived from +personal observation, or from that of gamekeepers, +'earthstoppers,' huntsmen and others, whose calling +has brought them into close contact with wild +animals. To all these my thanks are due.</p> + +<p>M. D. HAVILAND.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Courtown Harbour,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Co. Wexford.</span></span><br> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[ix]</span> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" width="80%" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>THE STORY OF REDPAD THE FOX</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Spring Rains</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Hunters</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">First Blood</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How the Debt was paid</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Sheep Slayer</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">From Kilmanagh to Knockdane</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>THE STORY OF FLUFF-BUTTON THE RABBIT</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How Fluff-Button cried quits</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#bCHAPTER_I">I</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Spring Longing</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#bCHAPTER_II">II</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Invasion of Garry's Hill</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#bCHAPTER_III">III</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fear that was in the Way</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#bCHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Under the Moon</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#bCHAPTER_V">V</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF GRIMALKIN THE CAT</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The First Hunting</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#cCHAPTER_I">I</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Stealthy Death</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#cCHAPTER_II">II</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr"><span class="pagenum">[Pg x]</span>III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Collared Buck</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#cCHAPTER_III">III</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Zoe</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#cCHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Where the Battle is to the Strong</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#cCHAPTER_V">V</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>THE BIOGRAPHY OF STUBBS THE BADGER</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Twilight Hunters</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#dCHAPTER_I">I</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Borrigan's Baiting</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#dCHAPTER_II">II</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Larch Hill 'Earth'</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#dCHAPTER_III">III</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[xi]</span> + +<h2>LIST OF PLATES</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" width="80%" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Plates"> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdr">To face page.</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap">Loneliness and Longing</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#p1">48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fluff-Button was seated on the other Bank taking a Tonic</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#p2">124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap">Grimalkin</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#p3">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap">Homeward Bound</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#p4">190</a></td> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[2]</span></p> + +<h2>THE STORY OF REDPAD THE FOX</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;"> +<img src="images/p002.jpg" width="426" height="600" alt="p002.jpg" title="p002.jpg"> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<span class="pagenum">[3]</span> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SPRING RAINS</p> + +<div class="p3"> + <div class="splitr" id="p3-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p3-2"> </div> + +<p>Vix found the old drain at the beginning of March. +It was warm and roomy, and ran under the gate +of the Plantation Field. Once upon a time, before +the reservoir was built further up the hill, the +stream which rose under St. Bridget's Tower had +emptied itself through this drain into the bog; +but that was many years ago, and now the moss +and ferns grew thickly round the opening, and the +grating at the further end was choked with rubbish. +Nevertheless, because it was dry and lonely it suited +Vix exactly, and the four cubs were born there +towards the end of the month. They were blind, +red, squealing creatures who groped and fought in +the hot darkness to reach Vix and nuzzle at her +side, and at first she spent most of the twenty-four +hours among them; but as they grew bigger<span class="pagenum">[4]</span> +and needed more food she was forced to spend +much time on hunting excursions. Fortunately, +however, as rabbits were to be had for the picking +up in Knockdane Woods over the hill, and mice and +rats were plentiful in the bog, the neighbouring +poultry yards were not too severely taxed and Vix's +nursery remained undiscovered.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>April was ushered in by a cool dark evening +after heavy rain. The sunset was pale and stormy, +blotted out by ragged clouds, and as Vix trotted +home she heard the 'rail' singing up the river. +The 'rail' is the name which the Fur Folk have +given to the sound which is heard at night before +a storm, and it is one of the most mysterious noises +of the whole countryside. There may be no wind +stirring at the time, but the Wild Folk hear the +strange whining far away over the woods and bogs, +and know that there is a gale blowing up from +the sea.</p> + +</div> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>Vix's path lay by the reservoir, and here, startled +perhaps by some night noise among the rushes, she +paused. The reservoir had been built many years +ago when Paddy Magragh's father had plenty of +money, and much stock which required water. +He caught the little brook which trickled through +Vix's drain from St. Bridget's Tower to the bog, +and turned its course into the big cement basin, +<span class="pagenum">[5]</span> +leading off the water by a sluice into a new channel. +But the farm had fallen on evil days at the hands +of Paddy Magragh, and the reservoir was choked +with cresses and duckweed. Much rain had fallen +this spring, and the basin was dangerously full. +The sluice was shut fast, but the brown water +squirted through the chinks and danced down the +hill. The stream, all wild with joy of the great +rains, brought down leaves and twigs in its rush, +and waltzed them round and round in the plaited +current until it heaped them against the ever-growing +scum and débris at the sluice. By and by +the branch of a tree came rolling along, and stuck +fast. The leaves were driven against it until a +high barricade was raised, and the water could +only trickle through the sluice. Then Vix went +home to her cubs, but the stream still poured into +the basin from which it could find no outlet. There +was only one flaw in the cement, and that quite a +little one, patched with clay and willow withies, +but the water—the brown, treacherous water—found +it out, and worked silently and steadily all +night. O a mad, merry miner is the water!</p> + +<p>Hard after the 'rail' came the wind and the +rain. Safe and warm below ground, the foxes heard +the howling of the gale in the Plantation, and the +steady splash of rain drops on the sodden ground;<span class="pagenum">[6]</span> +but the brick walls of the drain were still strong +and water-tight. Paddy Magragh in his cabin also +heard the storm roaring outside, and remembered +that he had left the sluice of the reservoir closed; +but he dismissed the thought with a characteristic +'time enough to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>Vix was astir at daybreak the next morning. +The wind still moaned in fitful gusts and brief rain-storms +drove across the sky. There was a watery +gleam in the east which told of the sunrise to be, +and the fields were flooded. Vix reached the +reservoir. It was full of turbid water which lipped +to the very brim, and the clay which dammed up +the broken wall was sodden and dripping.</p> + +<p>As Vix watched, a strange thing happened. +A lump crumbled outwards and a ripple of water +ran down the slope towards the fence. It swelled +a little as the hole grew larger, until it became quite +a broad stream. It sang a merry little song to +itself as it ran—so merry that a number of brother +ripples hastened to join it. They crowded into the +hole in such numbers, struggling to pass through, +that suddenly the whole earthwork tottered and +crumbled away, and the coffee-coloured flood leaped +through the gap down the hill in the wake of the +first ripple. Brawling, tumbling, spreading into +shallow pools and splashing cascades, it raced down<span class="pagenum">[7]</span> +the field. The hedge barred its way for a moment, +but urged by the rush behind, it rose, and crept +between the hawthorns into the ditch on the +further side. It was many a year since the stream +had found its way down that ditch. It poured +into its old bed joyously, and kissed the primroses +with foam kisses before it drowned them in its cold +ripples.</p> + +<div class="p7"> + <div class="splitr" id="p7-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p7-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p7-3"> </div> + +<p>Not until the flood had entered the Plantation +Field did Vix realise what it meant. Then she ran, +faster than when the hounds were at her brush, +straight to the drain where her four ruddy cubs lay +in the torrent's path. The stream was perilously +near them. It had carved a way for itself among +the grass and brambles which choked the ditch, +and sang to itself lustily on the way to the bog. +Vix dashed underground, and, seizing the first of +the warm whining creatures which she stumbled +over in the darkness, she turned to fly. Too late! +She was caught in a trap. The water burst into +the drain, and surging to and fro to find an exit, +it filled the tunnel to the roof. Vix, half drowned +but still clinging to the cub, was battered to and fro. +Something which was not driftwood was driven +against her in the darkness; but +though her mother-love was great +she could not hold two, and it<span class="pagenum">[8]</span> +slipped past her. Twice she fought her head +above water, and twice she was washed off her feet. +The third time, gasping and choking, she gained +the opening, struggled to land, and laid the dripping +cub on the bank. But there were three more down +there. Vix looked at the flood which plunged +through the drain and into the field through the +further opening, and that good instinct which +bids the Wild Folk care first for that which is +nearest conquered. She picked up the half-drowned +cub, and galloped up the hill towards +Knockdane.</p> + +<p>When, three hours later, Paddy Magragh strolled +by, the flood had subsided, and only a trickle +filtered through the drain, which was half choked +with rubbish. On the bank lay three little red +bodies, and there were marks on the wet earth +where strong frenzied pads had striven to dig down +to the treasures hidden below.</p> + +</div> + +<p>That was all that Paddy Magragh ever knew, but +that spring an old fox cared for her one remaining +cub in the woods of Knockdane. And that cub +was Redpad.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p008.jpg" width="400" height="176" alt="p008.jpg" title="p008.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[9]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE HUNTERS</p> + +<p>So this was the coming of Redpad to Knockdane. +A whole book might be written about his early +adventures, but as this is to be his history, I must +pass them by to speak of those things which befell +him as he grew older. It is sufficient to say that +he entered on his career in the woods with two +important assets—a good nose and a good mother; +and these two will carry one of the Fur Folk far.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>Vix kept her cub in an old rabbit burrow until +he was old enough to hunt for himself. The first +blood which Redpad ever drew was, strange to +say, his own. One May evening he was playing by +the mouth of the hole, when all at once a rustle in +a bluebell bed attracted him. His instinct, which +until now had lain dormant, awoke. He bunched +his woolly legs together and bared his little milk +teeth. The flower bells waved to and fro again—and +Redpad cleared the intervening space with one +bound, to land, pads extended, upon a sulky hedgehog. +He crept whimpering back to his mother to +lick his sore toes and meditate on one of the oldest +saws of the Fox Folk, which runs: 'Never spring +until your nose confirms your eyes and ears.'</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>The woods are at their loveliest in May, when<span class="pagenum">[10]</span> +the chestnut leaves spread out their cool fingers, +and a filmy green veil of foliage is flung over the +beeches' naked branches. In the long light evenings +scores of rabbits grazed along the woodsides, and +it was upon these that Redpad took his first lessons +in hunting. He obeyed Vix and her signals implicitly, +and therefore learned by imitation, which +is the only form of pedagogy known in the woods.</p> + +<p>One evening when the sun shot long slanting +shadows across Knockdane, the foxes stole out to +hunt. Between the woods and the river lies a flat +meadow, and thither Vix led Redpad, the latter +aping the carriage of his mother's brush to the +best of his ability. She made him crouch down +in the thicket twenty yards from the fence, but +she herself crept forward. Although the bushes +were too thick to allow her to see into the field, +yet the air was full of that peculiar silence which +means that many hearts are beating and many +ears listening close at hand. But the senses of a +fox are very keen, and above the murmur of the +river over its pebbles, Vix could hear eager lips +snatching and nibbling at the coarse grass, and +many feet splashing in the dew. She crept forward +until she could peep into the field, and saw a dozen +rabbits feeding there. A fox has two methods of +completing a 'stalk'—the spring and the rush.<span class="pagenum">[11]</span> +Vix preferred to spring Thug-like upon her victim, +but in this case the prey was too far away, and she +resolved to rush it. Cramping her limbs together +she dashed through the fence and leaped at the +bunny she had marked. She might as well have +pursued a shadow. A dozen pairs of feet stamped +a warning, and a dozen scuts scuttled into the bushes. +There was a twang as some reckless rabbit stubbed +his nose against the wire, and then the patter of +feet darting in every direction.</p> + +<p>Had Vix been hunting alone that evening she +would have gone supperless, but as it happened, +one rabbit chose that runway where Redpad +crouched. It saw its danger too late and swerved—but +the cub darted forward and rolled it over, +almost turning a somersault in the vehemence of +his rush. Vix came leaping through the bushes +and tugged the kill away from him. He yielded +it growling, but ultimately was permitted to +demolish by far the largest share.</p> + +<div class="p11"> + <div class="splitr" id="p11-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p11-2"> </div> + +<p>By such expeditions Vix taught her cub to know +every lane, bank, and 'shore'<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> in the country +round Knockdane, and this knowledge was very +useful to him when later on he was +obliged to hunt and be hunted by himself. +Besides the rabbits, there were +<span class="pagenum">[12]</span>rats and mice to be had. Vix took Redpad down +to Kilree Bog, where there are deep ditches choked +with furze and bramble, and banks tunnelled +through by burrows. Sometimes they went rat +hunting by Paddy Magragh's farmstead at moonrise; +but this was dangerous country, for in +the yard dwelt a certain long-legged yellow dog +with a keen nose and ready tongue.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a> + <a href="#FNanchor_1_1"> + <span class="label">[1]</span> + </a> Shore = A covered drain.</p></div> + +<p>September came, and in the fine warm weather +the foxes spent most of their time above ground. +Golden ragweed blazed in all the fields, and the +swallows began to assemble for their journey south. +Yellow sprays appeared among the dark leaves +of the beeches, and Redpad attained proportions +more in keeping with the size of his head. His +white tagged brush was his great pride, his coat +was shining with health, and he was remarkable +for his forepads, which were many shades lighter +than those of his mother; in fact, they were not +black at all, but deep bay—hence his name. Not +until he was full grown did his mother teach him +how to hunt that swiftest and wariest of game—the +hare. The stoat and the cat claim equal rights +with the fox over rabbit, squirrel, and rat, but only +the fox is strong enough to pull down the grown +hare.</p> + +</div> + +<p>One hot dark night the foxes awoke just<span class="pagenum">[13]</span> +before moonrise. Vix stretched herself and whined, +and Redpad raised his muzzle, which was curled +round into his brush. The burrow was pitch dark, +but he felt his mother glide past him, and he rose +and followed her. Outside they paused and sniffed +the west wind appreciatively—the scent was good.</p> + +<p>Vix turned down the hill, picking her way +daintily through the fern and brambles, and Redpad +followed. Fox language must consist of signs of +the ears and whiskers, for it is noiseless. Nevertheless +she conveyed to him whither they were bound. +They trotted through Knockdane, scaled the high +boundary wall, and gained the open country, which +lay placid under the twilight of moonrise.</p> + +<p>They hunted far afield that night. Two hours +before daybreak they crossed the Killeen road +and came to a wide brook. The moon was high in +the sky, and every tree and bulrush on the bank +was plainly visible. The sleepy cattle, chewing +the cud under a willow, heaved themselves up +with a grunt and herded together as the foxes +loped past. They trotted up-wind in silence some +hundred yards apart, ears alert to catch the least +sound, brushes drooping. Then Vix suddenly put +down her nose and broke into a canter, and as +Redpad galloped after her, the warm wind bore the +scent of hare to his nostrils.<span class="pagenum">[14]</span></p> + +<p>The meadows were dotted with tall thistles and +ragweed, so that, running close to the ground, the +foxes could not see far ahead, but one of the axioms +of the Wild Folk is: hunt with your nose, kill with +your teeth, and let your eyes take care of themselves. +The scent led them across the road into a bog. +Here Redpad, who led the chase, lost the trail at +the edge of a dyke and was thrown out, but Vix +leaped over and picked it up on the other side. +They crossed the bog at full speed, scaring a silent +heron, who was fishing knee-deep in a pool, almost +out of his wits. On the other side the trail led over a +furze-clad hill, and here there were many other scents—fox, +rabbit, badger and other hares—and the foxes +separated. But Redpad, hunting to and fro like a +beagle, worked out the line into the grass-lands +again, and they crossed some stubbles where the +sheep rushed together into a jostling stamping flock +at their approach.</p> + +<p>Hitherto the hare had kept her lead well, but +now before dawn the scent clung persistently to +the dewy grass, and the hunters began to gain +ground. The chase bent round towards Knockdane +once more, but the trail curved and twisted in +turnings as intricate as those of a swallow. The +'false dawn' appeared over the mountains, and +the air grew cooler. The foxes' tongues were out,<span class="pagenum">[15]</span> +and their flanks heaved, but they pressed on as +keenly as ever, as first one and then the other picked +up the failing scent.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/p014.jpg" width="300" height="196" alt="p014.jpg" title="p014.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>Several times the hare had doubled back a short +way and then leaped aside to baffle her pursuers; +but Vix was cunning, and by casting to right or +left, never failed to nose out the line.</p> + +<p>At last they came to a field not very far from +their starting point, and here they checked at fault. +Redpad turned to the right, but Vix snuffled her way +down the loosely built stone wall which bounded +the field. Suddenly a hare leaped up almost under +her feet, and hurled itself at the wall. It clung to +the top for an instant and then, slowly stiffening, +dropped back into Vix's jaws. The chase was over.</p> + +<p>Redpad galloped back across the field, his coat +wet with dew and his tongue flopping out. Vix +was already crouched over her kill. At his approach +she glanced at him suspiciously, and for the first +time in his life she growled at him—not the low +lazy growl of an old vixen to her riotous cub, but the +deep menacing rumble of one grown fox to another. +For this, Redpad's first long chase and kill, was, +so to speak, the day of his coming of age. Vix's +instinct told her that the change had come. He +was no longer the red, woolly cub who had tugged +at her side, but a full-grown fox able to fend for<span class="pagenum">[16]</span> +himself, and also able to snatch the kill from her +had he so chosen. Hence she snarled at him; +and it was another proof that Redpad had passed +the days of cubhood that he did not fly at her throat, +as he assuredly would have done had any other +fox used him so, but only hovered near to devour +such morsels as she rejected. For it is one of the +laws of the Fox Folk that a he-fox shall never attack +a vixen to snatch her kill from her. It is a wise +and good law, as are all those which are observed +in the woods.</p> + +<p>When Vix had eaten her fill she rose and quenched +her great thirst in a stream. But only a little +remained for Redpad, and his hunger was scarcely +appeased when they trotted back to Knockdane on +the hill in the grey dawn.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p016.jpg" width="400" height="209" alt="p016.jpg" title="p016.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[17]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">FIRST BLOOD</p> + +<p>Vix lay under a bush with her brush curled round +her nose and eyes. Only her ears, ever wakeful +and alert, kept watch while she slept. It was +six o'clock, and a still misty morning with a heavy +dew over everything. Close by lay Redpad with +his nose on his pads; but he slept more lightly +than Vix, for he had eaten less than she had done +after their hunting. Thus he was the first to wake +at the sound of a yelp in the valley. He sat up +with a whimper and looked at his mother. He +expected her to leap up, but she only stretched +out her forelegs lazily and closed her eyes again. +Perhaps her heavy meal at dawn had blunted the +senses which as a rule gave her such timely warning +of danger. Redpad could neither see nor smell +anything suspicious, but those noises had convinced +him that all was not right. He cast a last +look at Vix, and then trotted away among the +bushes.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>Presently he met an old badger plodding along. +The badger was glancing back every now and then +at the sound of a 'yow-yow-yow' in the valley; and +by and by a hare scudded past in a panic. All +the while the clamour was drawing nearer, and<span class="pagenum">[18]</span> +was interspersed with whip-cracking and shouts. +It all sounded very loud and alarming to Redpad, +who was accustomed to the stillness of the woods, +and he decided to move on. He was cantering +along a ride when suddenly, on turning a corner, +he came full upon a horseman. The man stared +at Redpad, and Redpad stared at the man for a +few seconds, and then the former leaped into the +bushes; but as he fled he heard a view-halloa +behind him.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>He galloped through thickets and crashed +through briars, and as he ran he heard the pack +give tongue on his line. Up till now he had not +realised that the presence of the strangers in the +wood boded anything evil to the Foxkind, but +had simply avoided them because they were new +to him and noisy. At last it dawned on him that +he was pursued, and he experienced all the fears of +the hunted. In his extremity he ran back to the +thicket where he had slept, to seek his cunning +mother's help. Several times he was obliged to +go out of his way to evade hounds who were hunting +up and down the wood; for it was the first time +that many of the puppies had been out, and the +experience had proved too much for their wits. +Some four couple were unpleasantly close to Redpad's +brush as he entered the thicket, but he dodged<span class="pagenum">[19]</span> +them, and ran straight to his mother's lair. It +was still warm, but empty. Redpad made up his +mind quickly. To his right the wood was less +thick. Here and there grew an isolated oak or pine, +and the hillside was covered with rocks and fern. +A little way off there was a crag some forty feet high +at whose foot rose a little stream. Redpad pattered +up this to its source; and about six feet from the +ground, half hidden by polypody ferns, found a +cleft in the limestone. A rush and a scramble carried +him into this retreat, which was just large enough +to contain him; and the ferns had scarcely ceased +to wave before the hounds broke out of the covert.</p> + +<p>Redpad watched the huntsman put them into the +patch of bracken. One worked one way, and one +another, but they had no leader, for the old hounds +were mostly down in the valley. And the longer +they lingered, the staler grew the scent.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a lemon-and-white hound on the bank +of the stream lifted up his voice and announced +that a fox had passed that way, and the rest rushed +after him. Two men rode behind the +hounds, and one said to the other, pointing +out the pale one who had picked up the +scent:</p> + +<div class="p19"> + <div class="splitr" id="p19-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p19-2"> </div> + +<p>'That's a grand houn' +in the makin'.'<span class="pagenum">[20]</span></p> + +<p>'Ay,' said the other, 'an' he's as swate on a +stale line as ever auld Pirate was before him. Hike! +Hike to Ravager!'</p> + +<p>The hounds hunted almost up to the crag, but +the morning air was merciful, and drew the scent +above their heads. However, the yellow puppy +was not to be baulked. There was a narrow ledge +which ran obliquely from the ground to the cleft +where Redpad lay hidden, and up this he climbed. +Redpad was watching the rest of the pack from +between the fern fronds, when a joyous bay above +his head proclaimed that he was discovered.</p> + +<p>Redpad leaped from his hiding-place and darted +away with the leading hound not a dozen yards from +his brush. There was no time to turn or try any +tricks—he ran for his life. He led his pursuers +right across Knockdane, but it seemed as though +there was a galloping horse in every path and ride, +and a hound in every brake. In his extremity he +turned to the moor. He raced up the steep hillside +through clumps of solemn fir trees, where the tits +twittered as though there were no such thing as +man, and through beds of ivy and fern.</p> + +<p>At last the long slope of the Big Meadow lay +before him, and he gathered all his remaining +strength for the dash over this danger zone. By +the hedge stood a horse and rider who halloaed as he<span class="pagenum">[21]</span> +passed, but to fox ideas a man was far less dangerous +than the hounds behind, and he took no notice. +He galloped across the field and entered the clump +of trees in the middle. Suddenly another fox +leaped up and went away in front of him. It was +Vix. She knew well who were following their line, +and cantered at her top speed; but she was still heavy +and drowsy after her full meal at dawn, and presently +Redpad, tired as he was, overtook and passed her.</p> + +<p>The pack was very close behind as they entered +the narrow belt of woodland at the top of the field; +but the hounds were all alone, for the thick hedge +had stopped the horses at the bottom of the hill, and +they had been obliged to go a long way round. Redpad's +tongue was out, for he had run far through the +wood that morning, and, besides, he was very frightened. +Just in front of him loomed the high demesne +wall. Redpad had leaped upon it, when he suddenly +noticed a thick bush of ivy which overhung the +coping to his right, and instead of leaping down the +other side he crept into the ivy and lay there panting.</p> + +</div> + +<p>A second later Vix came up. Twice she leaped +and twice she fell back, but the third time she gained +the coping just as the hounds came up. They +crowded over the wall on the scent, Ravager leading, +and poured down the hill on the other side after the +little red figure half a field's length in front. They<span class="pagenum">[22]</span> +were so close to him that one spring would have +landed Redpad in their midst, but he lay like a stone, +and they passed him by.</p> + +<p>'Head them off if ye can, Mike,' yelled the huntsman, +galloping up. ''Tis an auld fox!'</p> + +<p>'It was not, then! Didn't I see him cross the +path below, an' he a cub?'</p> + +<p>'Don't stand there arguin', ye fool! Nip round +to the gate above, for she's bet, an' we've none +too many in this country.'</p> + +<p>They galloped away, and the 'yowl-yowl' of the +pack died away over the moor.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Redpad lay among the ivy until the morning +mists cleared away; and the croon of the woodpigeons +was the only sound which broke the stillness. +Then he leaped from his sanctuary and crept down +the hill. He sought for his mother high and low, +through thickets and rocks, but he could not find +her; and when the autumn moon rose he wandered +to and fro and yelped for her, but she never came +back again to Knockdane.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless woodland grief is as short-lived +as it is poignant, and before September had given +place to October, Redpad hunted in Knockdane and +robbed the Ballygallon hen-roosts contentedly alone.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p022.jpg" width="400" height="195" alt="p022.jpg" title="p022.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[23]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">HOW THE DEBT WAS PAID</p> + +<p>All the following winter Redpad hunted in Knockdane. +Several times the hounds came and he had +to run for his brush, but it takes a great deal to +catch a hardy Irish fox who is sound in wind and +limb. When summer came he picked up plenty +of young rabbits and grew fat. Paddy Magragh +learned to recognise him, and designated him 'the +big red felly.' Although he had been deprived of +his mother so early, yet he learned by experience +and instinct, those best of teachers, how to overcome +or circumvent the wiliest of the wood creatures +for his own ends. He established himself in the +upper gallery of a badger's 'set.' The badger had +cleaned it out for his own winter use, but Redpad +discovered it one day, and adopted it. The badger +was seriously annoyed and endeavoured to oust the +intruder by every means in his power, but Redpad +went on the principle of bowing to the storm. +When the badger offered to fight him he discreetly +sought quarters elsewhere; but no sooner had the +rightful owner triumphantly freed the burrow +from the hated taint of fox, than he returned. +At last the badger grew weary of the contest. He +took up his residence at the bottom of the earth,<span class="pagenum">[24]</span> +and left Redpad in undisputed possession of the +upper gallery.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>Winter came round for the second time, and by +now Redpad had come to his full strength. Knockdane +seldom sees hard frost or snow, but as a rule +the south wind blows up a warm mist, and a steady +rain drips through the leafless trees.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>In December rabbit-traps were set in Knockdane, +and Redpad was not long in finding them out. +It was against regulations to set traps in the open, +but Paddy Magragh, who was in charge of the +trapping, was not particular; and Redpad's first +introduction to a rabbit-trap was the snap of steel +jaws on his toe. He wrenched himself free, but +he walked lame for many a day afterwards, and he +had learned his lesson. He soon found out that +the trapper made his morning and evening rounds +with fair regularity, and he arranged that his own +excursions should be made accordingly. He trotted +round the traps just in front of Magragh, and when +the latter arrived, more than half of them contained +nothing but a severed rabbit's head. This happened +two or three times, and then Magragh, who knew +nearly as much about wood ways as Redpad himself, +reversed the order in which he visited the traps, +and presently caught the thief red-handed.</p> + +<p>'Every dog has his day, me fine lad,' muttered<span class="pagenum">[25]</span> +Magragh, hurling a fir cone after the white-tagged +brush; 'but I'm thinking the hounds will have +theirs before so long.'</p> + +<p>After that Magragh lifted his traps to the other +side of Knockdane, for which Redpad had no great +liking, as there were more farmsteads in the neighbourhood, +and consequently more cur dogs.</p> + +<p>During the fine weather about Christmas time +Redpad left the main woods, and hunted and slept +in the thick hedgerows by the river below Knockdane. +They were full of rats and rabbits, but were +not a very safe resort, for it is one of the Sabbath +amusements of the youth of those parts to go out +with dogs, and hunt any outlying fox in the hedges. +Redpad could outrun any dog in the country, but +his slender limbs were no match for the more +sturdily built terriers and sheep-dogs at close grips, +so perhaps it was just as well that a cold snap drove +him back to the woods again.</p> + +<div class="p25"> + <div class="splitr" id="p25-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p25-2"> </div> + +<p>While the frost was on the ground Redpad was +hungry and robbed hen-roosts recklessly. One +night twelve hens roosted in an outhouse with a +defective latch at John Skehan's farm. The next +morning when the owner went his rounds, three +corpses lay on the floor, and the rest of the fowls +had disappeared; all but one broody biddy under +a basket.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">[26]</span> + +<p>'Ye may go afther the rest, ye divil,' said John +Skehan to this survivor bitterly, and dismissed her +with a kick. His words were fulfilled more literally +than he expected. She alighted cackling beyond +the farmyard wall—a red shadow sprang up silently, +and John Skehan had a glimpse of a white-tagged +brush heading towards Knockdane along a path +strewn with feathers. This was more than flesh +and blood could stand, and Skehan set his dog after +the thief. At first the dog gained on Redpad, who +was weighted with the fowl, but presently the fox +dropped his burden, and John Skehan chuckled at the +thought that the robber would not profit by his raid. +But Redpad increased his lead again, and then picked +up another hen from behind a hedge. This happened +twice, and every time he had to leave his booty to +escape from his pursuer; but the third time he +succeeded in carrying it in triumph to Knockdane. +Afterwards it was found that those hens which he +could not carry away he had deposited in caches +along the path between Knockdane and the farm, +in order to remove them at his leisure.</p> + +</div> + +<p>This misdeed hurried on the day of reckoning. +John Skehan laid the tattered remains of his poultry +before the proper authorities, and in consequence +one day early in the year the hounds came to +Knockdane. The best hound in the dog-pack that<span class="pagenum">[27]</span> +season was that Ravager who had been blooded +on the morning when Vix had been hunted down, +more than a year before. Redpad had met Ravager +once before that winter, and had been obliged to +resort to every trick he knew in order to circumvent +that sagacious leader of the pack.</p> + +<p>Of course Redpad found the 'earth' stopped +when he returned home at daybreak, and he +accordingly sought out a hiding-place which had +already baffled his enemies several times. There was +an ivy-grown fir tree which the wind had partially +uprooted and flung against its fellows. It was quite +easily climbed, and Redpad curled himself up in +the ivy about fifteen feet from the ground. Here +he slept very comfortably until noon, and then the +familiar 'yowl-yowl' awakened him. For an hour +or more he watched the hounds as they occasionally +galloped past; and at last two men in pink +coats rode along and halted under the very tree +where he lay hidden. Presently a squirrel, passing +through a neighbouring tree, looked down and +caught sight of a fox sitting like an owl in an ivy +bush. Nothing upsets a squirrel so much as curiosity, +and a fox in a fir tree was something quite outside +the experience of this particular one. He instantly +desired to know a hundred things as to the why +and wherefore of this strange occurrence, and in<span class="pagenum">[28]</span> +short was transformed into one tense note of +interrogation.</p> + +<p>He chattered tentatively—the fox did not +move. Then he chattered defiantly, but still there +was no sign. He hopped near and dared the fox +to chase him, but Redpad knew better than to stir. +Then the squirrel grew almost beside himself with +passion. He kicked the branch on which he sat, +he scolded until the woods rang, he jibbered with +rage. Three jays came up to see what the fuss +was about, and added their voices to the commotion. +At last it grew so loud that even the dull human +ears of the men under the tree remarked that +something unusual was going on. They looked +up—saw something red stir in the ivy and—'By +Jove!' said the younger; and his halloa sent +the squirrel leaping away.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later a council was held under the +tree.</p> + +<p>'Who will climb up and fetch him?' asked the +master; but the 'boys' standing round only grinned +and shook their heads.</p> + +<p>Then old Paddy Magragh, who loved the foxes +of Knockdane for the sake of the sport which the +foxes begot, said: 'An' if I fetch him down to yez, +will yer anner see that he has fair play and a good +start?'<span class="pagenum">[29]</span></p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the master; 'you shall turn him +down yourself.'</p> + +<p>So Paddy began to ascend the tree with a sack +in one hand and his coat wrapped round the other. +When he was about half-way up the tree he came +face to face with Redpad, and the fox looked up +with a snarl, but he could retreat no further up the +trunk. Magragh crept closer and held out his coat. +Quick as lightning Redpad buried his double row of +ivory fangs in it. But it was too thick for them +to reach the hand inside, and Magragh, seizing him +by the back of the neck, tumbled him into the sack.</p> + +<p>Redpad was let loose in the middle of the Big +Meadow. When the sack-mouth was opened, he +went away like an arrow without a glance behind.</p> + +<p>'Good luck to yez,' said Paddy Magragh, 'for, +begob, 'tis a great hunt ye'll give them to-day.'</p> + +<div class="p29"> + <div class="splitr" id="p29-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p29-2"> </div> + +<p>It is a true saying that a bagged fox will not run +far, but this was not so with Redpad, for he knew +every inch of the country, and besides, he had +not been long enough in the sack to grow cramped. +He flew over the short grass, and as he cleared the +demesne wall he heard the pack open behind him. +To the south lay Carricktriss with its rocks and +heather blue in the distance; down in the plain +there was Sutcliffe's Gorse, surrounded by wet fields +where the horses would sink fetlock deep at every<span class="pagenum">[30]</span> +step, and hedges impenetrable to anything but a +blackbird. However, Redpad had made up his +mind where he was going, and set his mask resolutely +towards the east. Four miles of meadow-land lie +between Knockdane and Kiltorkan Hill, but Redpad +had a map of the country in his head, and he +knew that no covert in the country was a surer +refuge for a hunted fox. He slipped across a grass +field where a couple of hobbled goats bucketted +away at his approach; and, taking just the same +line which Vix, his mother, had chosen for her last +race for life eighteen months before, he galloped over +the bog.</p> + +<p>Most of the fences were wide-topped banks with +a 'grip'<a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> on the further side, and Redpad took +them with an easy spring on and off. He was +running with a good lead over a marshy field when he +met with his first check at the highroad. A train +of 'side cars,' 'ass cars,' and pedestrians, nearly a +quarter of a mile long, were slowly proceeding to +a funeral at Ballycarnew. Redpad could not cross +the road under their feet, and was obliged to make +a long detour which brought the hounds considerably +nearer his brush—so much nearer indeed that +presently he ascended a little knoll covered with +furze to see if a certain drain was open. Although +<span class="pagenum">[31]</span>he did not know it, Vix in her extremity had also +tried to reach this hiding-place, and she too had +found it blocked. But Vix had been too exhausted +to run any further and had turned to face the hounds +in the field beyond, whereas Redpad was still fresh +and with strength to spare.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Ditch.</p></div> + +<p>He looked back at the pack working out his +line in the fields below him, and saw that Ravager +was at their head. The horsemen had been stopped +by a wire fence, and were following far behind. +For the first time Redpad felt a little anxious. The +scent was evidently good that day, and Kiltorkan +was still more than two miles ahead. He quickened +his pace and tried the old old trick of running +through a herd of cattle in order to foul the line. +This checked the hounds for a moment, but Ravager +cast forward, and presently they came on faster than +ever.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Redpad was still running strongly, but his tongue +was out and he was coated with mud. He skirted +two or three farmsteads, forded a brook where +he paused to gulp a mouthful of water, and then +climbed a long gradual slope. At the top he paused +and looked back. He saw that Ravager with two +couple of the best hounds was working some fifty +yards ahead of the rest of the pack, and that some +distance in the rear rode a man in pink. Kiltorkan<span class="pagenum">[32]</span> +was about half a mile away, but at its base ran a +thin shining line of railroad. The Fur Folk of Kiltorkan +care little for the noisy, fussy train which +pants down to Waterford twice a day. They have +found out long ago that it is only formidable in its +own place, and is hedged in in some mysterious way +by the wire fence on either side of the embankment.</p> + +<p>Whether Redpad had any preconceived plan in +his head as he raced to the railway I cannot say, +but as soon as he climbed the bank on to the metals +he heard a low roar, and round the distant curve +the mail train swung into view. The hounds were +now very close behind, for the pace for the last +half-mile had been terrific. A cunning scheme +came into Redpad's brain. He raced madly up +the track towards the oncoming train. Belching +forth smoke, and shaking the ground with the +thunder of its rushing wheels, it had fewer terrors +for him than the hunters behind. It was a hundred +yards off—fifty—thirty—Redpad leaped aside and +let the roaring monster hurtle past him, but the +hounds, running blindly on the hot scent, never saw +the danger. As Redpad leaped down the embankment +the engine-driver saw what would occur and +jammed the brakes to the groaning wheels, but it was +too late. There was one yell, which rose above the +clatter of the train, and then all was over.<span class="pagenum">[33]</span></p> + +<p>Redpad struggled up the hill with his heart +thudding against his ribs. At the summit there +was a cairn of stones strong enough to defy pick +and spade. Before slipping inside he looked back. +The remainder of the pack were huddled together +in the field below the railway. The train was at +a standstill, and a group of men stood on the track +looking at something lemon-and-white which lay +without moving at their feet.</p> + +<p>Redpad knew that he had nothing more to fear +that day. If he had been a philosopher he might +have reflected upon the saw that 'every dog has his +day'; but as he was only a fox he crept into Kiltorkan +Cairn to pant and bite thorns out of his pads.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p033.jpg" width="400" height="278" alt="p033.jpg" title="p033.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[34]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SHEEP SLAYER</p> + +<p>The temptation came late in February, for that +is famine time in the country-side. The rabbits +were alert, and it was difficult to stalk birds successfully +when the leaves were off the trees. In three +days Redpad had only picked up a starved rat +and a sick pigeon, all skin and bone, and on the +fourth day he caught nothing at all. His sides had +fallen in, and his haunch bones stood out. At last +he went to the moor; but although he hunted there +for a long while, he did not even see a field-mouse. +The sun had set when he returned to Knockdane, +and the stars came out, one by one, in the steely +sky. It was going to freeze. Redpad jumped +a wall into a little field, where withered fern grew +more plentifully than grass, and across which +the sheep stampeded. These were the ewes with +young lambs, and they wheeled into a jostling +flock at his approach. Redpad never looked at +them as he skirted the field. He was well used +to sheep, but so far, in his opinion, their only +use was to foul his line for the hounds. Also, +even had he been so minded, he could scarcely pull +down a lamb under the hoofs of the dams, for collectively +the old ewes were formidable. Therefore<span class="pagenum">[35]</span> +he did not give them a second thought until he +came to the far side of the field, when a little cry +in the fern made him pause with pad upraised. +He snuffed his way cautiously under the wall; and +there, sheltered by a boulder from the cold wind, +lay a newly dropped lamb. It was one of a couple, +but being sickly, it had not risen and followed +the dam to the rest of the flock as its fellow did. +It was too weak to stand, and could only lie and +shiver as the fox crept up. Redpad was ravenous—starving, +in fact—and far and near the countryside +was empty in the night. The old ewe was +not at hand; nothing watched him but the hungry +stars overhead. He seized the lamb by the shoulder, +and it did not even bleat as he swung it over the +wall, and cantered with it to Knockdane. That +night, for the first time for many days, Redpad +was full-fed, and slept soundly.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>The theft might have remained undiscovered, +but unluckily the sheep belonged to Jack Skehan; +and twice a day, during the lambing time, he went +along a certain path in Knockdane to visit the +flock. The next morning, when on his usual round, +his dog ran on ahead, and presently returned +carrying the woolly leg of a lamb. On the path +were unmistakable traces of Redpad's last night's +meal; and worst of all, in the soft earth where he<span class="pagenum">[36]</span> +had drunk from a puddle, were the plain prints +of pads. There was no doubt who had done the +deed.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>Jack Skehan himself was not kindly disposed +to the Hunt, and he threw out dark hints as to his +future plans. However, he had no opportunity of +carrying these into effect, for Redpad did not +visit the sheep again after his one theft. What +with one thing and another, his luck began to turn. +He picked up two or three snared rabbits and +other trifles, and the press of famine was over +for a time.</p> + +<p>However, a week later, he was patrolling the +fir wood at the top of Knockdane. It was a still +night, mild for the season, with a crescent moon +struggling behind a mass of little sheep-backed +clouds. Presently he heard a businesslike patter +of feet on the fir needles, and snuffing, that his +nose might confirm his ears in correct fox fashion, +he winded a dog. Redpad hated dogs only one +degree less than men, and slipped quietly away +into the shadows. The footsteps paused undecidedly +at the spot where he had turned aside, then +passed on.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards, Redpad was scaling the +demesne wall, when a distant rumble of hoofs startled +him. The ground slopes away gently from the<span class="pagenum">[37]</span> +end of the wood, over the fields, and then rises +again to meet the moor. Hence, from the wall, +Redpad could look down into the field where the +sheep dwelt. He saw the whole flock—a grey +mass in the twilight—collected in a corner; and +listening, it seemed to him that he heard a shrill +yelp. However, it was not repeated, and as he +winded nothing unusual, for the night air was +damp and chilled the scent, he continued his way. +Night after night he went to the moor by the +same path—over the wall, and across the little +field where the sheep grazed among the stones. +Here he suddenly crossed a line from which the +Fur Folk usually turn—the line of fresh blood; +and among the dwarfed gorse he found the body +of a young lamb. At that moment the sheep +stampeded, and one lamb, breaking from the +flock, bounded hither and thither among the rocks +with the agility of despair. As it leaped, something +small and dark sprang beside it. There was a wicked +snarl, a piteous stifled bleat, and the lamb was +dragged headlong into the furze. Redpad waited +no longer, but cantered back to the wood. If +something was worrying the sheep, this was no +safe place for him.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/p037.jpg" width="400" height="207" alt="p037.jpg" title="p037.jpg"> + +<p>When Jack Skehan +came up at eight o'clock,<span class="pagenum">[38]</span> +two lambs were missing. He called a conclave of +neighbours, and they sat in judgment upon Redpad's +real and supposed delinquencies. Jack Skehan, +who was very wrathful, purposed to put a notice +to 'foxhunters and others' in the local press, +and resort to drastic measures by means of strychnine; +but the rest of the council shook their +heads, for they had no wish to banish the hounds +from Knockdane. Ultimately they all went down +to consult Paddy Magragh, whose reputation for +wisdom was deservedly great where animals were +concerned. Paddy was smoking in his cabin, and +after he had heard all that they had to say, he +said: ''Twas a dog, not a fox, took the lamb +lasht night, I'm thinking.' And this opinion he +held to in spite of all arguments against it.</p> + +<p>Nothing occurred that night, and the following +day Paddy Magragh went alone to the field on +the hill, and searched it thoroughly. He came +upon the carcase of the lamb in the gorse, and +he grinned, for he knew the ways of the Fur Folk, +and their law, better than most of the men round +Knockdane. The next day, however, there was +great consternation. Jack Skehan's flock was +untouched, but Dinny Purcell had left his ewes +in a field adjoining the wood, and a young lamb +lay torn and draggled upon the grass. The remains<span class="pagenum">[39]</span> +were taken triumphantly to Paddy Magragh, and +the foxlike print of the fangs displayed; and +secretly even his conviction was shaken, although +he declared stoutly that it was a dog and not a fox +that had done the deed.</p> + +<p>With one accord it was decreed that poison +should be laid down; and Jack Skehan went to +Skelagh and bought strychnine, ostensibly to poison +rats. Paddy Magragh had manfully opposed this +scheme, for besides the fact that every fox hunted +from Knockdane meant ten shillings in his pocket, +he had 'stopped' the woods for twenty years, +and took more pride in his foxes than he cared +to own.</p> + +<p>'If ye'll do as I tell ye,' he declared, 'ye'll lay +the mate on a bit o' paper, an' if it's a fox, he'll +never touch it at all, for he'd be afeard o' the +paper, but if it's a dog he'll ate it.'</p> + +<p>And this was the utmost they would grant him. +Indeed, if they had believed him, he could not +even have extorted this concession.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/p039.jpg" width="400" height="149" alt="p039.jpg" title="p039.jpg"> + +<p>They 'doctored' some rabbit paunches with +strychnine cunningly enough, and laid them seductively +in the field. It was just before dark when +they returned home, so they did not see how +the magpie fluttered down a few minutes later, +and spying the bait, sidled up to it. He did not<span class="pagenum">[40]</span> +altogether like the white paper, but he was hungry, +and a paunch was a paunch. He picked it up +gingerly and carried it off, for a magpie does not +care to eat where he has killed—he is too accustomed +to traps. Even an egg is impaled on his bill and +conveyed away. Luckily for this magpie, however, +it so happened that when he was flying into the +wood he accidentally let the choice morsel fall out +of sight among the trees. Therefore, although he +went supperless to bed, he was fortunate in that +he roosted in the branches that night, instead of +lying claws upwards on the ground. Redpad +found that paunch two days afterwards and ate +a piece; but something peculiar about the morsel—in +its taste or odour—warned him, and although +he was very sick for some hours, yet he eventually +recovered.</p> + +<p>There was great jubilation the next morning +when it was found that some of the poison had +been taken; but the triumph was short-lived, for +the following night another lamb had disappeared. +The next evening Jack Skehan took his old gun +and the little whippet-nosed dog who worked for +him among the sheep all day, and sat up to watch. +The dog sat beside him on a stone, and when he was +not watching his master for orders, he gazed serenely +above the heads of the sheep. Nothing, however,<span class="pagenum">[41]</span> +came, and at six o'clock, tired and chilled, Jack +Skehan went home.</p> + +<p>The poison was still there, but Redpad, made +wary by his former experience with the rabbit +paunch, passed it by, and besides, the mysterious +rustling of the white paper underneath scared him. +The real sheep slayer never touched it, for he +seemed to prefer warm meat to cold.</p> + +<p>On the two following nights again nothing was +taken; but on the third morning news was brought +that an older lamb had been killed in Jack Skehan's +flock, and that the carcase had not been removed, +so Paddy Magragh went up to the field.</p> + +<p>'Bedam! I'll have the poison thick in every +field on the farm, and put up the wire besides,' +stormed Jack Skehan. 'Is al' me sheep to be +worried on me that the gintry may hunt their +dirthy foxes over me land? I'll have ivery +mother's son o' thim prosecuted.'</p> + +<p>'Now I'll go bail,' said Paddy Magragh, who +had picked up the carcase, 'that 'twas a dog had +this killed.'</p> + +<p>'An' what dog in this counthry would touch +a sheep, an' they wid 'em all day?' demanded +Garry, Jack Skehan's young brother.</p> + +<p>'Where have ye that felly o' yours shut at +nights?' asked Paddy Magragh, looking at the<span class="pagenum">[42]</span> +little narrow-headed cur who slunk at Skehan's +heel.</p> + +<p>'Shure he slapes in the cowhouse, and I lets +him out in the mornin'. But he'd never harm +a sheep—I rared him meself.'</p> + +<p>Paddy Magragh spat discreetly. 'I'd have me +cowhouse door mended, an' the window blocked,' +said he.</p> + +<p>'Are ye sayin' that it was a dog all the while?' +demanded Skehan irately.</p> + +<p>'I do not. Maybe 'twas a fox took one or two—the +first was a little small one, an' he sick-like. +But this is a dog, shure enough.' And he looked +again at Jack Skehan's sheep-dog, who was licking +his paws thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>'Well, I'll have the poison down again, an' +that widout the paper. Shure there's enough o' +talkin'. If there's another lamb worried on me, +begob, but I'll poison every fox in Knockdane,' +grumbled Jack Skehan.</p> + +<p>Paddy Magragh said nothing, for he was crafty, +and the Knockdane foxes were near to his heart and +his pocket, but that night, after the bait had been +laid, he went to the field, and, taking the carcase +of the dead lamb, he put in enough strychnine to +poison a dozen dogs or foxes either, and left it by +the gate.<span class="pagenum">[43]</span></p> + +<p>'It's a bit o' a risk,' he mumbled, 'but shure, +if I don't have the right lad cot to-night, Jack +Skehan is that bitther with the Hunt he'll not +lave a fox in the woods, what wid the traps an' +the poison.'</p> + +<p>That night the hunger pain hurt Redpad sorely +again; and if he had reflected upon the subject, +he might have envied the squirrels, who, during +that hard March weather, eked out a living upon +germinating beechmast, or the badgers who dug up +and ate the acrid tubers of the wild arum. But the +Fur Folk do not possess the faculty of comparing +their own lot with that of others. Perhaps they +are all the happier that they lack it.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/p043.jpg" width="400" height="195" alt="p043.jpg" title="p043.jpg"> + +<p>It was after midnight, and the moon was not +long risen, when Redpad trotted by the gate of the +field where the sheep were. He had no idea of +taking a lamb. They were all able to run well by +now, and he had too much respect for the hoofs +of the old ewes to attack the entire flock. He +crept under the gate (there be those who say that +a fox will not do this, but the hedgerow rabbits +whom the fox stalks know better) and then he +found the carcase of the lamb. His recent experience +with the rabbit paunch had made him wary, otherwise +he might have eaten of it, for he was very +hungry; but to his sharp senses something seemed<span class="pagenum">[44]</span> +not altogether right—perhaps the taint of human +hands was still upon the food—and he passed on. +For two hours he hunted in the fields, but the +meagre results only whetted his appetite. Then +he recollected the dead lamb, and desire for one full +meal overcame his caution, and he returned to the +place.</p> + +<p>The moon, which had been obscured by sullen +clouds, here brightened a little, and he caught sight +of the lamb's carcase in the fern, gleaming in the +dusk. He was hurrying up to it, when suddenly, +by a wandering night breeze, he winded dog, and +at the same instant the clouds broke entirely from +the moon. Redpad stood petrified, for not thirty +yards away, his back turned and his foot on the dead +lamb, crouched Jack Skehan's tried sheep-dog. He +looked up, and snarled at the sheep who stared +fearfully at him. Evidently he was devouring +his last night's kill, before attacking the flock. +As Redpad watched, the dog tore off a mouthful +and swallowed it. Then he growled again, and +Redpad slunk silently away. The dog was lightly +built, and smaller than he was, but he was thin +and weak, and in no condition to fight. The Fur +Folk seldom contest a kill, and besides, in Redpad's +mind, dogs were so intimately connected with men +that he was by no means certain that a man might<span class="pagenum">[45]</span> +not lurk under the wall. But as he went there +was a half-strangled, hysterical yell behind him. +The dog suddenly leaped up, and rushed madly +towards the gate, as though in his terror his first +instinct was to run home. His agonised eyes, +fear-stricken, glinted white in the moonlight, and +there was foam on his jowl. Redpad took the +wall in one bound, but as he sprang he heard a dull +thud, as the dog, leaping blindly in the extremity of +his frenzy, struck the top bar of the gate, and fell +back struggling convulsively.</p> + +<p>Redpad ran as he had seldom run before, for +he believed that the other pursued him, and that +the mysterious madness would be upon him too +if he were overtaken. But the hideous sounds +which tore the silence of the night behind gradually +grew fainter, and before he had crossed the demesne +wall the dog lay still and stiff beside the torn lamb. +There Paddy Magragh found him at dawn, and went +home chuckling; and there also, a little later, his +owner found him, and buried him secretly in the +corner of a turnip field.</p> + +<p>For obvious reasons Jack Skehan did not +publish the story of that night abroad; but in the +country round it was noticed ever after that his +lambing ewes were kept in the home-field; and +also that from this time onwards he ceased to<span class="pagenum">[46]</span> +be accompanied everywhere by his favourite dog. +Until recently, indeed, the identity of the sheep killer +was only known to three persons—to Skehan himself, +who never divulged it; to Paddy Magragh, who +kept the secret faithfully, and only revealed it long +afterwards in order, on another occasion, to clear the +name of the foxes of Knockdane; and lastly to +Redpad. But for a long while the latter avoided +the place; for in his memory dwelt the recollection +of that strange death which men deal to those who +break the primitive law which ordains that man +is placed in dominion, not only over the beasts who +eat his bread, but over the Wild Folk of the hills +and woods, and that his dependents and possessions +are sacred, and not to be harmed with impunity.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p046.jpg" width="400" height="324" alt="p046.jpg" title="p046.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[47]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p class="h3">FROM KILMANAGH TO KNOCKDANE</p> + +<p>From Kilmanagh Hill the highlands stretch north +and south mile after mile, with here and there the +grey head of a limestone crag protruding through +the heather. In the less rugged spots the peasants +have collected the stones and piled them up, so as to +enclose a tiny half-acre field with a wall as strong +and high as a rampart; but for the most part the +country lies derelict in moor and bog—the home +of the curlew, plover and hfox. It is a weird land +this, which in rockbound loneliness looks out over +the cultivated plain. From its southern limits +can be seen the sea, a pale streak in the distance; +and often all day long the Atlantic mists settle +down and wrap the hills in a chill pall until sunset, +when the sun breaks out and the moor glows +beneath him like a wet pebble. But to-night the +sun had long since disappeared behind the cone of +Galtymore, and the stars had taken his place, until +they in their turn were drowned by the January +moon which rose, polished with frost, above the +highest of the eastern tiers of mountains. The +western slopes of Kilmanagh were still hidden in +deepest shadow, but on the east every bush and<span class="pagenum">[48]</span> +heather tuft was visible, and the faces of the limestone +boulders glistened with rime.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-fox.jpg" width="100" height="113" alt="left-fox.jpg" title="left-fox.jpg"> + +<p>A shadow glided through the bushes, and sprang +upon a rock. The moonlight shone on the thick +brush and ruddy pads which Knockdane knew so +well. But Knockdane was ten miles away over +the moors. What brought Redpad to Kilmanagh +that winter's night? Two days before he had left +his home covert, and travelled after sunset across +the open country to the foot of these wild highlands +which lie some four miles to the south of Knockdane. +He had travelled along leisurely, hunting as he went, +and sleeping under some rock or bush. He did not +know why he thus wandered through an unknown +country. He only felt a desire which he could not +gratify—the desire which awakens earliest in the +Fox People—the desire of Love. No matter how +keenly January frosts bite or January sleet showers +blow, they leave their native haunts, and wander +away to seek a mate. Perhaps some mysterious +hereditary instinct led Redpad to the hill, for on +just such a night his sire had left the highlands and +come to Knockdane three years before.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-fox.jpg" width="100" height="176" alt="right-fox.jpg" title="right-fox.jpg"> + +<p>To-night Redpad climbed to the highest peak of +Kilmanagh Hill to see the moon rise; and there, +because he was solitary and the Love Desire so +strong, he raised his long muzzle and yelped out his +<span class="pagenum">[49]</span>loneliness and longing. A sheep-dog below heard and +answered with a deep 'row-row-row!' of disgust at the +chain which prevented him rambling from his home.</p> + +<p>'Yap! yap! yap!' shrilly and insistently Redpad, +silhouetted against the moon, yelped a love +song and challenge in one.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;"> +<a name="p1" id="p1"></a> +<img src="images/p048.jpg" width="422" height="600" alt="LONELINESS AND LONGING" title="LONELINESS AND LONGING"> +</div> + +<p class="caption">LONELINESS AND LONGING</p> + +<p>From the shadowed side of Kilmanagh rose +a call less loud and defiant than his own. +Redpad swung round, ears cocked, pad raised, +but the still cold air of mid-January was silent +but for the sheep-dog's bark. He whimpered a +little and then plunged into the heather. The +hillside was very dark, but Redpad's nose was +keen and told him plainly who had passed that +way. Where the main peak of Kilmanagh meets +the more gradual slopes which rise up to meet it +from the plain, is a little ravine, and here the night +air bore a faint unmistakable taint to his nostrils—fox. +Among the shadows ahead, his eyes, catlike, +accustomed to see in the gloom, detected something +which appeared more solid than a shadow. He +approached it cautiously, while a low growl arose +in his throat. A pair of ears twitched and then slid +into the bushes. Redpad put his nose down and +hunted out the trail as carefully as ever he had done +that of hare or rabbit. By and by he came to +a clearing. The moon had just risen above the<span class="pagenum">[50]</span> +sloping shoulders of Kilmanagh, and to fox eyes +the hill was light. Here his quest ended, for not +six yards from him sat the Belovèd. Her coat +was as red as that of a winter squirrel, her brush +was as thick as a pine sapling, and she was as +desirable as a sunny evening in May. Therefore +because she satisfied Redpad's longing he called +her the Belovèd on the spot, and indeed he never +knew her by any other name. He came forward +cautiously, for he doubted what his reception might +be, leaping this way and that and dropping on his +forepads like a cub inviting a game. But the +Belovèd had also been very solitary. She too had +yelped the story of her loneliness to the moon. She +trotted forward and touched Redpad caressingly, and +then playfully rolled him over with her muzzle. +They romped together for a few minutes, and either +gave and received sundry love nips, and then they +trotted down the hill in company.</p> + +<p>The sheep-dog was silent, but a snipe rushed +up crying 'kek-a-kek.' Rabbits were playing +among the furze, and there Redpad and his Belovèd +hunted together until the moon began to sink, +and some wet clouds from the west rose over her +face, bringing warm rain.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It still wanted some two hours till dawn when<span class="pagenum">[51]</span> +Redpad and his love came back up the hill, full-fed +and contented. The Belovèd trotted in front, and +her mate followed some little way behind. Suddenly +the narrow goat-path took a sharp turn, and they +came full upon an enormous fox. He stood half an +inch higher at the shoulder than Redpad, and his +coat was as grey as a badger's. He bared his teeth +a little at the sight of Redpad, but most of his attention +was concentrated upon the Belovèd. He +crept forward with his long neck stretched out and +touched her red shoulder. Redpad bared his double +row of ivory fangs and the hair along his spine rose. +In another moment he would have flown at his +rival's throat, had not the Belovèd, as is the custom +of the fox-kind, taken the quarrel upon herself. +She flew at the Grey One with a fierce growl, and +made her teeth meet in his flank. He would have +fought with Redpad while he had a pad left to stand +upon, but by the law of the Woods a fox may not +attack a vixen in the love season. He felt the +Belovèd's strong jaws close like a trap behind his +ears, and fled. The vixen trotted back slowly to +her lair, glancing back now and then over her +shoulder and growling softly at the recollection of +her recent skirmish and many other things. And +Redpad, her accepted suitor, followed.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<div class="p51"> + <div class="splitr" id="p51-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p51-2"> </div> + +<span class="pagenum">[52]</span> + +<p>The afternoon was dull and raw. The frost +had gone, and the fields in the plain were studded +with pools of flood water, for much rain had fallen.</p> + +<p>Redpad in his lair was awakened by a frightened +woodcock which dropped down just in front of +him. He sat up suspiciously with cocked ears, +for it is not the way of woodcock after a clear night +to shift their quarters undisturbed. There was +a faint halloa at the top of the hill: 'Try-Tra-i-y.' +Redpad slipped silently from the warm lair, and +the Belovèd followed him, for they both knew the +meaning of that sound. Suddenly there was a +joyous 'yow-yow-yow.' 'Hike! hike!' came the +shout again; and Redpad trotted down the hill, +for although the heather hemmed him in, he knew +well enough what was forward on the summit.</p> + +<p>There is a low stone wall at the foot of Kilmanagh +which separates a thick gorse brake from the fields, +and Redpad squatted down behind it to watch. +The hounds were gradually working down the hill. +There was a man on a horse standing at a corner +of the field, and all at once he waved his cap above +his head. The Grey One was slinking down the +fence. He had crossed the first field when a couple +of hounds gave tongue close by. His heart failed +him—he swung round to the covert again, leaped +over Redpad with a snarl, and galloped back up<span class="pagenum">[53]</span> +the hill. The hounds broke into the field on his +line, wheeled like a flock of plover, and came straight +to where Redpad lay. It was time to be stirring—a +strange covert is no refuge to a hunted fox. Redpad +cantered gracefully a little further up the fence, and +just as he leaped upon the wall in full view of the +watcher in the field, some erratic puff of wind +told him that his Belovèd had just passed that way +up the hill to safety. He wavered for a moment, +then the pack spoke again and he leaped. But he +had not gone a hundred yards before the hounds +gave tongue behind him, and a distant voice proclaimed: +'Gone away—awa-a-y—awa-a-y!'</p> + +</div> + +<p>From the very start Redpad knew where he +was going, and set his mask towards Knockdane +on the hill ten miles away. At first the fields he +crossed were small, and cropped as bare as a billiard-table +by starveling goats and sheep, while between +them rose walls of loosely piled stone, five feet high +and so broad that a horse could walk along the top. +More than one horseman turned home that day +with a red bandage round his horse's fetlock, for +Kilmanagh stones are sharp.</p> + +<div class="p53"> + <div class="splitr" id="p53-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p53-2"> </div> + +<p>Two miles slipped by. Redpad kept up his +best pace, for he felt instinctively that he had not +increased his lead during the last half-mile, and the +scent was good that day. He was in the best of<span class="pagenum">[54]</span> +condition and ran strongly, but he did not know +the hiding-places in this part of the country as well +as those of Knockdane, and was obliged to trust +more to his legs and less to his wits than was his +custom.</p> + +<p>Presently he turned to the right and climbed +the steep hillside to the moor. There was a big +rabbit hole in his path into which he tried to creep, +but just below the surface it narrowed, and he was +obliged to back out with his coat full of dust and +several precious moments lost. He could see the +hounds—a pied patch on the fields below him. At +that distance they appeared to be crawling along, but +as a matter of fact they were racing at top speed. +Just behind them rode a horseman on a great +black horse, but the rest were further behind.</p> + +<div class="p54"> + <div class="split" id="p54-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p54-2"> </div> + +<p>Redpad ran on steadily, for he could see Knockdane +with its crest of trees in the distance. The +moor was boggy, and he crossed +patches of quagmire which trembled +even under his light weight. +A big grey heron burst out of a +pool and swung skywards, and the +snipe sprang up in every direction; but Redpad never +paused and the hounds never checked, until the men +began to wonder if their horses would hold out, +and took what short cuts they might.<span class="pagenum">[55]</span></p> + +<p>Three miles further on the moor sloped down +to the tilled lands again. Redpad was cantering +along a bohireen<a name="FNanchor_1_3" id="FNanchor_1_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> when he suddenly came full +upon a countryman mending a wall. The man +sprang up and shouted, and a big yellow sheep-dog +darted from his heel. Redpad cleared the fence at +a bound, and went away over a turnip-field with +the collie not half a dozen yards behind. The field +was a wide one, and although he succeeded in +shaking off his pursuer on the other side, yet the +sudden effort told upon him. His tongue was out, +and now and then his gallop dropped into a hurrying +trot.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_3" id="Footnote_1_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Narrow lane.</p></div> + +</div> + +<p>By now he was in fields which he knew well, +and tried all the familiar hiding-places one after +another. There is a 'shore' by Kilmacabee and +a badger set in Charlesfort Wood; but the rain had +filled the former with water, and the latter was +blocked up.</p> + +<p>The early January evening began to close in +when the home covert was still three miles away, +but the scent lay stronger than ever on field and +bog. Redpad was spattered with mud and his +breath came in gasps, but he ran on gallantly over +ploughed fields where the plover rose screaming at +his approach, and over pastures where the sheep +<span class="pagenum">[56]</span>stampeded. Once he met a donkey-cart crawling +down a road. The old woman in it screamed and +waved her shawl at his approach, and obliged him +to turn a hundred yards out of his way, but even +a hundred yards is far to go when limbs are weary, +and there is withal the certain knowledge that +the pursuers are gaining ground. Nevertheless he +could see Knockdane more and more clearly, and +knew that there was only another half-mile, and +the river to be forded, before he could lie down +in the old 'earth.' Looking back he saw that +the hounds, though tired themselves, were coming +on faster than ever, and he knew that he must run +his best if he would arrive at the ford by the old +willow before them. His heart thudded as though +it would burst its way through his ears, and his +famous ruddy pads felt as though each were bound +to the earth. More than once he lay down with +closed eyes, and had he been a soft-hearted fox +or a vixen he would have died there and then; +but as he was as gallant a fox as ever ran before +the hounds to a ten mile point, he rose stiffly +and stumbled aimlessly forward again.</p> + +<div class="p56"> + <div class="split" id="p56-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p56-2"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p56-3"> </div> + +<p>As he crossed the brow of the hill from +whence the slope fell steeply down to the +river, the sun came out over the shoulder of +Knockdane and shone wanly on the flood<span class="pagenum">[57]</span> +pools in the meadows. The mists were already +rising, and the great solemn woods on the other +side lay in shadow. The waterhens feeding on +the river bank scuttled away as he limped down +to the water's edge.</p> + +<p>The river was in full flood and rushed hurrahing +seawards, carrying foam flakes and branches of +trees in its coffee-coloured current. It filled its +banks to the brim, and not a ripple was left to tell +where the ford had been. The willow tree which +grew beside the spot was partially uprooted and +drooped into the water with its branches festooned +with flotsam. Redpad paused bewildered, for +never before had this ford failed him at his need. +Just then the hounds broke over the brow of the +hill and tore down the slope. Redpad saw them, +and determined to make a desperate bid for freedom. +Very slowly and stiffly he crept out along the +horizontal trunk of the willow, and so into the +smaller branches above the water, where a hound +could not venture. The pack came up and crowded +baying round the tree. Now and then one tried +to follow along the trunk, but they were less nimble +than a fox and slipped back into the water. Redpad +lay crouched flat with his teeth bared, and no hound +could reach him from below.</p> + +<p>Presently two men rode down and dismounted<span class="pagenum">[58]</span> +from their tired horses. One was the man on the +black horse who had ridden so well that day, and +the other was the huntsman. The latter tried to +climb out along the tree to Redpad, but it swayed +so perilously that he was forced to return.</p> + +<p>'It's no use, sir,' he said. 'I am afraid we +can't reach him there. Shure, it's a pity for the +hounds not to chop him afther all, afther the way +they hunted him.'</p> + +<p>'It was as fine a hunt as ever I saw,' answered the +other. Then looking at Redpad's half-closed eyes, +he added: 'But that fellow will never run again—he +is dead beat, and it is a pity they did not run into +the poor brute back yonder where he lay down. +At all events he has cheated us of his brush, for he +was as plucky a fox as I ever saw.'</p> + +</div> + +<p>With this, his requiem, in his ears, Redpad +stretched out his muzzle on his pads and closed +his eyes, as he had done many a morning in the old +earth in Knockdane. The light of the after-glow +lit up the bright coats of the two men and the tired +hounds behind. They were only a few yards away, +yet he knew that they could not reach him, and +therefore paid no further attention to them. The +water lip-lapped round the willow, and the roar of +the flood deepened as twilight fell, and the night +wind shivered in the aspens. A waterhen called, +<span class="pagenum">[59]</span> +and a flight of wild duck, quacking softly, flew over +the hill. Redpad straightened himself slowly—then +he gave a lurch, and dropped into the water. +The broad stream caught him, and swept him out +into the midcurrent. He struggled a little, but +the eddies bound down each tired limb, and the +ripples broke against his closed eyes. The water, +which had so nearly cut short his life in early days, +was a good friend to him now. As his body was +borne down the misty stream, away from the clamour +of the hounds into the august silences of the night, +the waves lapped gently over his head; and under +their kisses, his spirit drifted quietly out to the Grey +Fields of Sleep where the souls of the Fur Folk go.</p> + +<p>There is no rain known there nor any sun, and +no one is ever weary or hungry or afraid, but they +lie wrapped in warm mists in a country where there +is no noise nor bright light burning. They sleep on +there and take their rest, knowing neither joy nor +grief nor hope nor disappointment until time and +space shall be no more.</p> + +<p>The moon rose over the mountains, and the flood +sang joyfully on its way to the tumbling waves +in the estuary.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p059.jpg" width="400" height="231" alt="p059.jpg" title="p059.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2>THE STORY OF FLUFF-BUTTON THE RABBIT</h2> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[63]</span> + +<h2><a name="bCHAPTER_I" id="bCHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">HOW FLUFF-BUTTON CRIED QUITS</p> + +<div class="p63"> + <div class="splitr" id="p63-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p63-2"> </div> + +<p>A lane winds steeply through Knockdane Wood; +and at the top of the hill where the trees grow +sparsely, there is a gate leading to a furze-grown +field. The grass is cropped short and thick by +generations of sheep and rabbits; and the slopes +are dotted with gorse bushes which they have +nibbled into all kinds of fantastic shapes. Between +the wood and the field the gorse forms a prickly +barrier six feet high, but it tapers off to mere pin-cushions +of eighteen inches in the open. The first +time that White-Lamb saw the bushes, he stubbed +his nose into them, and then cried out because the +thorns pricked. White-Lamb had only lived two +days of his allotted span, and had not yet learned +that gorse is prickly.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="124" alt="left-rabbit.jpg" title="left-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>There were a score of sheep in the field, and<span class="pagenum">[64]</span> +each of them had her white lamb (or maybe two) +running beside her; but only one White-Lamb +comes into this story, because he was the only one +who had anything to do with the course of events +in Knockdane Wood, and even his influence was +only indirect through Fluff-Button the Rabbit. +Fluff-Button was a great hero in Knockdane, as +any of the Fur Folk can tell you; but he would +never have grown up at all if it had not been for +White-Lamb, as this story will relate.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="193" alt="right-rabbit.jpg" title="right-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>In the year of which I write, March and April +changed places; for although the human calendars +said that it was March, and in the woods the catkins +had not shrivelled on the hazels, yet all day the +westerly wind drove rain-storms over Knockdane. +The lambs huddled close to their mothers with +nothing but their restless tails appearing, when—hey +presto—no sooner had they tucked themselves +away comfortably, than the squall passed, and the +sun blazed out upon the wet skirts of the rain. +Raindrops dripped merrily from the hazel-catkins +as the wind or a leaping squirrel shook them, and +the air was full of the scent of wet earth and breaking +buds.</p> + +<p>Towards evening the showers became less frequent, +and the sun shot long slanting rays over Knockdane. +The old sheep coughed as they snatched at the wet<span class="pagenum">[65]</span> +grass, and the field resounded with the incessant +bleating of the lambs who ran to a strange ewe and +were butted aside.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Because White-Lamb still kept his close lamb's +coat, and had not yet lost the instincts of his race +in the placid vegetable life of his mother, he grew +restless towards nightfall, and trotted over to the +gate to look at the woods—an unknown land to +him. The Night Longing calls to the animals who +live under man's dominion as surely as to the Wild +Folk, but they very seldom hear it. Sometimes, +however, the sleepy cattle in the meadows lose +their wits in the dark; and if a man passes by they +forget that he is their lord and master, who in +the daytime goads them where he will, and only +remember that at one time their forefathers charged +his naked ancestors through the forest, and gored +and trampled upon them. The old impulses are +strongest in the young animals, just as among men +a boy burns with a hundred noble purposes which +he will forget when he becomes a man, and soils +his hands in the world's ways.</p> + +<p>The path wound away until it was lost to view +among the fir trees; but right at the end of the +vista, and barred across perpendicularly by the +tall stems, was a clearing into which the sunset light +slanted. As White-Lamb watched the light on<span class="pagenum">[66]</span> +the path, and listened to the wind among the +branches, he saw a shadow move among the withered +fern stumps, and steal quickly towards him. White-Lamb +watched it approach with his pink-tinted +ears spread wide, and his innocent face pressed +against the lower bar of the gate. At first he +thought that the strange beast was a sheep, but +a furtive gleam of sunshine touched its back and +pointed ears and turned them ruddy. It came on +with an easy silent gait, glancing from side to side, +and did not perceive White-Lamb until it was quite +close to him. Then it stopped, and eyed him +narrowly with a pair of keen yellow eyes. White-Lamb +felt a vague misgiving, and ran back a few +steps towards the flock. The other slunk forward +and slipped through a little hole at the side of the +gate-post, whence his sharp nose peeped out. A +dozen rabbits were playing a little distance down +the fence, close to the sheep, and his attention was +fixed upon these. Suddenly White-Lamb realised +that all was not to his liking, and he uttered a loud +and plaintive bleat. Instantly his mother raised +her head, saw the intruder, and cried to her companions. +The whole flock rushed together, each ewe +with her lamb galloping beside her; and forming +into a close circle they faced the enemy and stamped +an insistent warning: 'Fox! fox!' The rabbits<span class="pagenum">[67]</span> +took the alarm at once, without pausing to discover +the reason for the stampede. A dozen scuts +whisked in the air, and then vanished into the +hedgerow. There was, however, one small rabbit +who had evidently but just left the nesting burrow, +for he showed no fear. He hopped a few feet nearer +the hedge, and then raised himself upon his fluffy +pad of a tail to peer over the grass.</p> + +<p>The fox saw his ears twitch, and glided forward +a few feet before making a spring. But the old +ewes took the alarm again, and stampeded. As +White-Lamb scampered by his mother, his flying +hoof struck the little rabbit, and brushed him +aside. The flock then wheeled again upon the fox, +just in time to see the rabbit's scut uppermost as he +rolled head over heels into the runway, and hear +the click of the fox's jaws which closed on the empty +air at the end of his spring. He stood sulkily +watching the sheep for a minute or two; but +though he did not fear them individually, yet +collectively the old ewes looked dangerously ready +to trample upon an enemy in defence of their lambs, +and he thought better of it. He turned away +and cantered off towards the moor.</p> + +<div class="p67"> + <div class="splitr" id="p67-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p67-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p67-3"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p67-4"> </div> + +<p>That was the first time that White-Lamb saw +Fluff-Button the Rabbit, and but for his happy +instinct to baa for his mother, it<span class="pagenum">[68]</span> +would have been the last. However, as it was, they +often saw one another again, for Old Doe Rabbit had +tunnelled her nesting burrow under a fir tree inside +the wood, and used to lead her family out to feed +in the evening. At first there were six of them, but +as March turned into April, and White-Lamb's body +grew to proportions more in keeping with his legs, +foxes, cats and stoats took their toll, and their +numbers diminished to three. After a time they +achieved a certain independence. They crept out +alone, and sat among the bluebells and combed their +ears and pretended to be grown-up rabbits, until +a pigeon clattering out of the fir trees or a magpie +croaking in glee over a throstle's nest, made them +tumble inside to their mother in a hurry. A mere +human hunter would have said that there was +absolutely no difference between Fluff-Button and +his sisters, but he would have been wrong. Fluff-Button +was no more like them than all the children +in a human family are like one another, but only +another rabbit could have seen the difference. +They all had the same white dab of a tail, and the +same ever-twitching whiskers, and they all had to +go through the same training. All knowledge in +the woods is divided into two kinds: those things +which you are born knowing, and those things which +you find out for yourself. Fluff-Button was born<span class="pagenum">[69]</span> +knowing that grass was good to eat, but he had +to find out for himself that the bluebell leaves, +which look much like grass, are full of unwholesome +slimy juice and not nice to nibble. He also had +to find out by experience that while foxes are +dangerous and should be avoided, sheep are quite +harmless. When he had learned this, he used often +to find his way to the Sheep Field all alone, and +feed among the lambs.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Once a day Paddy Magragh used to climb the +hill to count the sheep. At his heels slunk a yellow +terrier with a keen nose and a silent tongue, who +could do anything from rounding up a sheep for +his master, to killing a fox single-handed in Knockdane. +But for this early morning visit, life in the +Sheep Field was very peaceful. Nothing came +between the furze bushes and the spring sunshine +except when a rook flew overhead, croaking a +quaint spring song to himself, or when a filmy cloud +raced across the sky. The gorse flowers gave out a +heavy perfume like warm apricot jam, and the +fine spell brought out a horde of insects to hum +round them. The lambs played together among +the ant-hills, and the little rabbits played also. +The games they played were the oldest games +in the world—tig, catch as catch can, and king +o' the castle. But though White-Lamb often saw<span class="pagenum">[70]</span> +Fluff-Button, and used to run and sniff at his little +brown ears in the grass, I cannot say positively +whether they ever talked to one another or no. +I often lay in the bushes and watched them feed +side by side; but the language of the Woods is +not that of men. It is a more subtle, and yet a more +simple language, communicated by movements of +the eyes, ears, and whiskers, and no man has ever +thoroughly learned it yet.</p> + +<p>The night after the first bluebell had opened, +Fluff-Button went all alone to the Sheep Field at +moonrise for the first time. He was now three-parts +grown, and instead of feeding by the hedgerow +with one eye on covert, he crept further and further +out towards the middle of the pasture like any old +buck rabbit.</p> + +<p>It was a chilly night; but the air on the hill was +less cold than that in the valley, where a damp mist +lay. A sheep-dog yelped monotonously at the end +of his chain from a farmhouse beyond the wood; +and at the bottom of the field short grunts and +incessant bleating told that the sheep were feeding. +The Sheep Field was always noisy at night. One or +another of the ewes would lose sight of her lamb +behind a bush, and then for a long while either cried +to the other, and yet neither would stir; and the +wind everlastingly sang in the trees in Knockdane.<span class="pagenum">[71]</span></p> + +<p>By and by a pale April moon rose, and Fluff-Button +sat up for the tenth time to flick the dew +from his whiskers. The bushes around him took +curious shapes in the half-light; and wander +where he would among them, he saw no other +rabbit. But suddenly his long ears sprang from +the horizontal to the vertical, and his forelegs +stiffened. The turf of the Sheep Field was firm +and close, and carried the sound of galloping hoofs +like a telephone. The sheep were on the move. +Fluff-Button, used to their senseless panics, would +have paid little heed had not the night air brought +another faint taint to his nostrils. As it was, he +hopped away slowly between two furze thickets. +Almost before he could tumble aside the sheep were +upon him, ewe and lamb jostling one another, while +White-Lamb, who headed the stampede, leaped the +bushes like a chamois. They rushed into a dense +phalanx, and all stamped their fear and anger at +something which was approaching them between +the gorse bushes. Fluff-Button skipped round, +and it was well that he did so, for there, not five +yards away, stood Magragh's yellow cur dog with +his tongue lolling out, and his wicked eyes on the +sheep. The Night Longing had moved him and +strange impulses stirred within him. He had +forgotten all about his quiet domestic life, and his<span class="pagenum">[72]</span> +love for his master, and only listened to the voice +which whispered that it would be good to chase +the silly, woolly things in front of him—and leap +upon them—and worry them. But for the moment +he stood hesitating, for all his life it had been his +duty to care for the sheep.</p> + +<div class="p71"> + <div class="splitr" id="p71-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p71-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p71-3"> </div> + +<p>It was well for the sheep that they stood firm. +Had they broken and run, the scales, which were +now evenly weighted, would have turned. The +dog would have dragged them down from the sheer +lust of killing; and after that night he would have +developed into what every farmer hates and fears—a +sheep-killing dog. But a weight dropped into the +other scale, and that weight was Fluff-Button. He +lay right in the path, and his presence decided the +matter. Cur Dog forgot those strange impulses +which bade him kill the sheep, and only remembered +that here was a rabbit which was lawful prey.</p> + +<p>Fluff-Button doubled away nimbly from his +rush, but even so the dog's jaws snapped together +just behind his scut. Away they went down the +field, the rabbit leading by a few bare yards. He +had no time to double back into the gorse, and +here there was no covert but a few bushes, therefore +he headed for the wood.</p> + +<p>Cur Dog had won many a Sunday's coursing, and +had something of the greyhound strain mingled<span class="pagenum">[73]</span> +with his terrier blood. He did not give tongue, +but ran silently with his nose to the ground. With +his pursuer so close behind, Fluff-Button dared +not try any of those elaborate dodges and twists +which every rabbit knows, but he tore down the +field like an arrow. The slope was in Cur Dog's +favour, for a rabbit never runs his best downhill. +He decreased his distance by a foot or two, but he +came no nearer, for Fluff-Button strained every +sinew, and buttoned down his ears and whiskers, that +nothing might hinder him in the race.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Thus they reached the fence, and Fluff-Button +cunningly slipped between two saplings, hoping that +his enemy would dash into them in the dark, but +Cur Dog was fortunate, and came through unscratched. +Then began a long series of turns and +twists among fern stumps and trees. Several +times Fluff-Button thought that he had shaken off +his pursuer, but every time a yelp from behind +told him that the latter was still hot on the line. +In a long chase the odds are against the rabbit. +He is not accustomed to sustained efforts, and +although only a swift dog can catch him in a dash +to the burrow's mouth, yet if hunted far he soon +tires. Fluff-Button longed for a bramble brake, +but there was none near. His heart thumped +against his ribs until he felt as though it must burst,<span class="pagenum">[74]</span> +for just then Cur Dog gave tongue loudly and long, +with the confidence of a hunter who knows that +his quarry is weary.</p> + +<p>Fluff-Button turned down a ride. The moon +had risen, and here where the trees grew sparsely +it was comparatively light. Nevertheless the +woods on either side were in deepest shadow, and +Fluff-Button had eyes for nothing but the dog +behind him. Hence he never saw a dark figure +standing in the shadows, and he passed so swiftly +that he scented nothing unusual. Neither did Cur +Dog see or smell it as he tore down the ride, yelping +on the trail with his nose to the ground.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a flash—and a loud report +split the silence of the woods. Cur Dog bounded +his own height into the air, his howl died into a sob—he +rolled over twice and then lay still.</p> + +<p>'Not bad in the twilight,' said the keeper, +jerking the cartridge from his gun.</p> + +<p>Fluff-Button heard the report as he scudded +through the bushes, but he never noticed that the +galloping feet behind him had ceased. Some fifty +yards further on was an old rabbit burrow. He +dived into it, and lay panting in its bottommost +recess until long after moonset. But no Cur Dog +came to nose at the burrow's mouth.</p> + +<p>Thus Fluff-Button might have cried quits with<span class="pagenum">[75]</span> +White-Lamb for the time that the latter summoned +the flock to face the fox. But though the next +evening found them together in the Sheep Field, +yet they fed placidly side by side and exchanged no +word nor sign; for it is not the way of the Wild +Folk to show gratitude to one another.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p075.jpg" width="400" height="389" alt="p075.jpg" title="p075.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[76]</span> + +<h2><a name="bCHAPTER_II" id="bCHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SPRING LONGING</p> + +<p>In the valley at the foot of Knockdane Hill there +is a great meadow. It is like an island surrounded +by the sea, for the woods come close up to its hedge +on all sides except on the east, where the river runs; +and just as an island may have a lake in the middle, +so in the centre of the Big Meadow there is a little +copse. The trees in the copse are sycamore and +red-stemmed pine, and in spring the ground is +carpeted with celandines and anemones. In the +copse there is a hollow where long ago men used +to quarry out stones; but now it is never used, and +the heaps of flints are draped with bramble and +cinquefoil trails.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="124" alt="left-rabbit.jpg" title="left-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>When the men ceased to dig out gravel and gave +the copse back to the Fur Folk, an old rabbit made +his burrow under the roots of a pine tree, and he +or his descendants lived there ever after. At the +time of which I write, however, the woods had been +rigorously trapped during the winter, and one by +one the inhabitants of the Copse Burrow had +disappeared until there were only two doe rabbits +left. One was Mutch, a veteran of four seasons, +with long yellow teeth and a grey coat, well versed +in the wiles of the woods; and the other was Cuni,<span class="pagenum">[77]</span> +who had only been born the previous July, and +who had fur as brown as her big soft eye.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="193" alt="right-rabbit.jpg" title="right-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>From a human point of view a celandine bed is +the most beautiful thing. It covered the copse with +a broad sheet, softly green and golden, and the +first things the rabbits saw when creeping from +subterranean darkness were the golden flowers. +Nevertheless, from the rabbit's point of view celandines +are not so desirable. They are just the +wrong height, and tickle the bunnies' noses as they +hop through them; and besides, the broad leaves +catch and retain raindrops, which is a grievous +disadvantage when soaked and muddy paws have +to be licked dry. At least that is what Cuni found. +She came out when the flowers were all asleep after +the rain, and the dawn was breaking over the +mountains. The wind was keen and fresh, and +bore the strong sweet scent of wet earth with it. +The pine trees swayed and sighed—not with the +boisterous roar with which they struggled with the +autumn gales, but triumphantly, as though the sap +were mounting to their topmost twigs. The light +in the east grew primrose-coloured behind the wind-torn +clouds, and beyond the river the rooks in the +Ballylinch elms awoke and clamoured for the sun.</p> + +<p>As the gale swept along, the woods were filled +with a spirit which, although it is as old as the<span class="pagenum">[78]</span> +world itself, is yet born anew every year—the mad +spirit of Spring.</p> + +<p>Even old Mutch felt that the season was changing. +As for Cuni, she leaped three feet into the air, and +tried to play at hide and seek with herself round +an ash tree; but Mutch, who was old and surly, +chased her into a bramble bush. It is a curious +thing that, just as in human society some old spinsters +ape masculine dress and ways, and prate much +about the Rights of Women, because, poor dears, +they do not know what those rights really are; so +in the woods old doe rabbits or old hen birds often +gradually adopt the colours and language of the +other sex. Therefore Mutch coughed in a deep +voice and gobbled grass untidily like any old buck +rabbit, but Cuni fed daintily and watched the +stormy sunrise.</p> + +<p>Presently she heard a rustle in the celandines, +and sniffed cautiously to discover whether that +which was coming were harmless rabbit, slinking +stoat, or prowling cat. Suddenly there was a crisp, +short thump which made the Copse ring: it was +a signal. The old doe rose on her hind legs and +listened; but Cuni peeped through the brambles +to see from where the noise came.</p> + +<p>Fluff-Button sat and kicked the ground loudly +and persistently. He did not know <i>why</i> he did so<span class="pagenum">[79]</span> +any more than the celandines around his paws +knew why they waved in the wind; but Fluff-Button +knew <i>when</i> he did so and the flowers did +not—there lay the difference. He was calling for +his love, and as though fascinated Cuni's tremulous +nose was thrust from covert, and she began to steal +towards him. But as she was about to stamp an +answer, she looked to the right and saw that old +Mutch had hopped half-way across the clearing.</p> + +<div class="p79"> + <div class="splitr" id="p79-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p79-2"> </div> + +<p>Fluff-Button turned round and saw two pairs +of ears twitch. One pair was grey and lopped with +age, but the second pair was adorable, and he made +up his mind quickly. He hopped towards Cuni, +utterly disregarding Mutch, and rose on his haunches +to display his white vest and long whiskers. Cuni +was visibly impressed by these, and by the beauty +of his fine scut. When he tried to caress her she +did not turn away, but suffered him to nuzzle at +her furry shoulder, while she gave him delicate +tickling kisses with her whiskers. After that Fluff-Button +knew that his cause was won.</p> + +<p>By now the sun was up, and the celandine +calices expanded into perfect golden stars. The +Spring Longing bade Fluff-Button leave the Copse +and spend the day in the main wood, and Cuni +went with him. They crossed the field, and entered +a clearing where the low briars were draped with<span class="pagenum">[80]</span> +dry grass. The rabbits crept inside a tuft and +hollowed it out into a neat round chamber. Fluff-Button +obliterated the door with two deft touches, +and then they settled down side by side. No +hawk had eyes keen enough to detect them from +above, and any foe on legs might have passed within +a yard and never have seen them. But there are +other ways of hunting than by sight.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Crash! It was noon. The rabbits, dozing contentedly +in their form, awoke. Fluff-Button's ears +moved the fraction of an inch, and then he squatted +down with his eye glued to a peep-hole. Some heavy +animal was forcing its way through the briars, but +that did not frighten the rabbits so much as did +a more distant sound: 'yow, yow, yowl.' 'Good +dog!' said a voice just above their heads. Suddenly +something rustled beside the form. The grass curtains +were violently torn aside, and a huge grey +rabbit head was thrust in. It was old Mutch. As +she burst into the form her eyes glinted white as +she glanced backwards. She thrust Cuni violently +aside, and squatted down panting in her place, +while Fluff-Button lay as still as death with his ears +flattened and his paws bunched together. Cuni, +terrified, forgot that primary rule of 'lie still,' in +keeping of which rabbit safety lies, and ran a few<span class="pagenum">[81]</span> +steps. The man, standing knee-deep in briars, +saw the grass stir. 'Here! good dog!' he called; +and motioned with his hand. There was a rush, +a wild scuffle, and Cuni bolted down the hedge. +It was well for her that the dog started in pursuit, +otherwise the gun would have cracked before she +had gone a dozen yards; but as it was the man +dared not fire for fear of hitting his dog, and when +he did so the shot merely buried itself harmlessly +two feet in front of Cuni's nose.</p> + +<p>Now began a long chase. The dog was young +and headstrong, and the temptation to chase the +rabbit was too much for him; but afterwards he +wished that he had obeyed his master's whistle +and left her alone. For first of all Cuni led him +through laurels against which he stubbed his nose +at every turn; and then she took him through some +brambles where he tore his ears; and last of all she +raced for the Lower Wood. Here she increased her +lead a little, and then, looping back upon her trail, +she ran under a fallen fir tree, and went to ground +thirty yards further on. The dog went down the +blind lead first, then had to turn back along the true +one to the fir tree. It took three minutes for him +to convince himself that his game was gone, and then +he returned, panting, to an interview with his irate +master, after which he was a sadder and wiser dog.<span class="pagenum">[82]</span></p> + +<p>Cuni could not stay long underground when the +Spring Longing was abroad in the wood, and two +hours afterwards she crept out again. Her instinct +led her back to the bramble patch, but, alas, the +form was cold and empty. A jay squawked overhead +and warned her not to linger. The jay is a +most untrustworthy watchman and gives a false +alarm twenty times a day; but the Wood Folk +know that if by any chance an enemy should pass +by, the jay will surely see it, therefore they always +obey his warning. On this occasion the enemy +turned out to be a stoat, and Cuni fled quaking +lest it should be on her trail. Not until she was +far away did she feel safe to continue her search. +Once she ventured to signal timidly, but the only +answer she received was from a doe rabbit, who, +when she found that it was one of her own sex +who had stamped, looked much as one girl in a +ballroom might do if another invited her to stand +up and dance.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/p082.jpg" width="300" height="160" alt="p082.jpg" title="p082.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>At last Cuni came upon a trail. It was cold and +stale, but unmistakably rabbity, and the Spring +Longing bade her follow it. It led her through +devious ways across the Big Meadow into the +Celandine Copse, and thither Cuni followed it through +an archway under a bramble. The wind had +dropped and the Copse was silent but for the<span class="pagenum">[83]</span> +spring chirp of an oxeye. Under the trees the scent +was stronger but strangely irregular, as though a +second and feebler trail were mingled with the first. +Cuni followed it into the gravel pit, expecting a +signal, but none came. She slid down a heap of +tinkling shale, and her nose led her to the old cart +road on the other side, where the grass was tender +and beloved by the rabbits.</p> + +<p>Cuni could guess well enough what had happened +here, for the trails were like a double string of beads—a +narrow thread where the rabbits had hopped +straight forward, and here and there an expansion +where one or other had turned aside to graze.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Cuni turned a corner and came full +upon Fluff-Button, who was sitting with his back +turned to her; while just in front of him stood—Mutch. +Fluff-Button was feeding in a nervous, +jerky manner, and when presently Mutch crept +up to him and touched him pleadingly, he only +hopped away petulantly.</p> + +<p>Mutch, repulsed, sat up and looked round—to +see Cuni. Whether the sight awoke in her the old +mother instinct of the woods to drive away a young +one able to fend for itself, or whether it was simply +jealousy, I cannot say, for the Spring Longing works +strange changes in the beasts; but, anyhow, she +rushed straight at Cuni and ripped a tuft of fur<span class="pagenum">[84]</span> +from her flank. Cuni staggered, but Mutch was +no longer young enough to wheel and pursue her +advantage quickly, and before she could renew +her attack, the little rabbit, spurred by the pain and +fear of the old bully, whisked past Fluff-Button +into the bushes. Mutch hopped back, full of pride at +her achievement, and sought to caress Fluff-Button +with her whiskers. But her jealousy had over-reached +itself. Fluff-Button had wandered all the +way from the Wood to the Copse seeking something +which had gone from him; and although Mutch +had followed him all the way with caresses he had +rejected her, for she did not satisfy the longing +which possessed him. However, when he saw Cuni's +little white scut scurry by, his instinct told him +that this was what he sought. He pushed past +Mutch unceremoniously, and leaving her behind +to stamp impotent signals, he scampered after +Cuni.</p> + +<p>He found her for the second time crouching +among the celandines; and this time he did not +delay, but claimed her at once. Neither did Cuni +play any more love games, but just nestled against +him happily.</p> + +<p>Could there have been found a fairer Eden than +that Copse, and could Adam and Eve in their innocence +have been happier than were Fluff-Button and<span class="pagenum">[85]</span> +Cuni? Even the All-Father in Whom the woods +live cannot make happiness more than perfect, and +for a little while these two were perfectly happy, for +the Spring desire was satisfied.</p> + +<p>If there were a tragedy in the Woods that +day, perhaps it was that of old Mutch, who came +upon the pair too late, for it was the first time that +she had failed to win a partner for the summer, and +she was bitterly jealous. However, grief and joy, +and even life itself, are very transitory among the +Wild Folk, and before the early evening closed in +Mutch was grazing peacefully in the Meadow.</p> + +<p>And there, when the celandines shut, Fluff-Button +and his belovèd followed her to see the moon +rise; and the wind sang among the swelling buds +of the warm summer days to be.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p085.jpg" width="400" height="290" alt="p085.jpg" title="p085.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[86]</span> + +<h2><a name="bCHAPTER_III" id="bCHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE INVASION OF GARRY'S HILL</p> + +<p>Fluff-Button and Cuni re-opened the big burrow +at the top of Garry's Hill. Garry's Hill is a big +grassy mound just outside Knockdane, with one +stunted hawthorn growing on the top. Long ago +many rabbits had lived here, but a mysterious +epidemic had swept them all away, and the grass +grew thickly over the entrance to the holes. Fluff-Button +lay out in the woods all day and worked +at the burrow at night. Cuni was never very far +away from him at this time, and often made her +form close to his; but she never allowed him to +touch her or follow her about.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="124" alt="left-rabbit.jpg" title="left-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>By and by she dug out another tunnel further +down the field, and took particular pains that her +mate should not find out its existence. For more +than a month she lived apart, and he only saw +her occasionally; but one fine day she returned to +the burrow with six fluffy atoms hopping after her. +At first Fluff-Button was disposed to resent their +intrusion on his privacy, but Cuni discreetly kept +her family away from his own particular dormitory, +and led them out to feed at a respectful distance.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="193" alt="right-rabbit.jpg" title="right-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>The six youngsters throve, for Garry's Hill was +so exposed on all sides that if ever hawk, cat, fox<span class="pagenum">[87]</span> +or man came near, Mother Cuni's keen senses +discovered him, and a smart 'thump' summoned +her family below ground at once. Of course, as +accidents will happen, not all the six grew up. A +cunning old vixen from Knockdane came round one +evening and hid on the brow of the hill. Cuni's +eldest born grew impatient, and ventured out, in spite +of his mother's warning 'thumps.' He was never +seen again, and neither was his sister who fed far +out in the field one evening and was marked down +by a stoat.</p> + +<p>When the survivors of the family were grown +up, Cuni opened out an old gallery, and lined +it with grass bents and fur from her soft body. +She grew very morose and shy at this time, and +would let none of her other offspring venture near. +A few days later a second litter appeared, but Cuni +did not lead them out to graze with the others until +July was well begun. During the long summer +evenings the rabbits lay and basked in the sun, +stretching themselves on the hot sand to warm +their white waistcoats, or fed and frolicked with +one another. A rabbit is the most humorous and +cheerful creature in the world—those whose lives +are hardest and most precarious usually are—and +delights in nothing so much as in playing off a mild +joke on his fellows. Only Fluff-Button fed apart, and<span class="pagenum">[88]</span> +kept his own little plot of pasture to himself; for +he permitted no liberties, and kept strict discipline +among his sons and daughters.</p> + +<p>Now that the rabbit family was so increased, +they enlarged their quarters considerably. Sometimes +they used the tunnels of a bygone generation, +but more often dug them out for themselves. +This is a plan of the burrow, and, as will be +seen, it is very complicated and irregular. Whenever +one of the rabbits felt inclined he dug a new +passage, but as he generally left it unfinished, there +were many blind alleys which led nowhere in +particular. All the parts which are shaded in +the plan were seldom-used 'hide-ups' and 'escapes,' +but the rabbits knew their geography very well, +and in times of danger generally had at least one +'bolt-hole' open.</p> + +<p>That August was very wet and cold. There was +never very much grass on Garry's Hill, and now +what there was was wet and sodden, and the wind +drove through the lonely hawthorn bush on the +summit with a roaring rush. Clouds of mist drifted +over Knockdane, and the pigeons were blown about +the rainy skies. The hill burrow was well drained +and dry, but on the flat lands the holes were filled +with water, and the rabbits lay out in the damp +woods.<span class="pagenum">[89]</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">[90]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p089.jpg" width="400" height="277" alt="p089.jpg" title="p089.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>Garry's Hill stood in a field, at the bottom of +which was a blackthorn fence among whose roots +dwelt a colony of brown rats. A stream flowed +swiftly at the foot of the hedge, and one gusty +afternoon when one of the rabbits crept out to +nibble a little sodden grass, it was rising fast. +The rabbit did not notice it, however, for the Fur +Folk have no time to waste over what does not +directly concern them, and even when she saw +a big grey rat, dripping wet, run up the bank, +she did not take the alarm.</p> + +<p>All the early part of the night the rain came +down steadily until the upper galleries of the +warren were quite wet. The burrow was pitch +dark, and the air hot and thick, when Cuni awoke. +She was blocked in on all sides by warm furry +bodies, nevertheless she detected an unusual noise +at the burrow's mouth—a faint scratching, and +then a squeak. Something was creeping in. Cuni +kicked the ground warningly, and as the others +awoke, she pushed into the main passage. Something +small and wiry beneath her paws squealed and +snapped. Cuni darted up the passage stamping +wildly—it was a rat.</p> + +<p>By this time the rest of the rabbits were awake +and rushing about in a panic. Every now and then +they collided in the darkness, and fled under the<span class="pagenum">[91]</span> +impression that they had run against an enemy. +Rabbits are like sheep: let one lose his head and the +rest will follow suit.</p> + +<div class="p91"> + <div class="splitr" id="p91-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p91-2"> </div> + +<p>Suddenly there was a sonorous 'thump,' and +Fluff-Button, king of the burrow, came out of his +dormitory, to be nearly carried off his legs by a pair +of rabbits who jostled past him. All at once, in +the narrowest part of the tunnel, he came upon a +party of rats. They were all draggled and wet, +and crowded into the burrow for shelter, for the +brook had risen and drowned them out of their +homes. Fluff-Button backed into a hide-up, and +the rats crowded after him. A rabbit cannot fight +his best in cramped quarters, but a grown buck has +plenty of courage when pushed into a corner, and +his sharp claws are weapons not to be despised. +One rat nipped Fluff-Button's shoulder, and in an +instant the latter buried his teeth in the aggressor's +quarters. The rat yelled, for they cut like chisels, +and his companions came on eagerly. Like a +schooner among a fleet of herring boats, Fluff-Button +ploughed through the band, jostling them +right and left, and sprang into the wider chamber +further on where a herd of frightened doe rabbits +crouched. Here he had more space, and when he +heard the invaders coming, he kicked out with his +strong hind claws. The foremost rat rolled back<span class="pagenum">[92]</span> +limply with blood upon his snout, and instantly the +rest threw themselves upon him with shrill cries. +Fluff-Button took advantage of the respite to fly. +He scuttled through the tortuous windings of the +burrow, and through a bolt-hole to the open air. It +was still raining fitfully, but there was a pale +streak in the east where the sun would presently rise. +Rabbits popped in and out of all the holes, for they +dared not rest below ground lest the rats should +drive them into one of the many 'hide-ups' and +then attack them. Fluff-Button scampered over +the brow of the hill, and into a bolt-hole on the other +side, where he lay panting.</p> + +<p>There was a young rabbit of Cuni's first family, +who, although the season was so late, had a litter +in a remote chamber, just beyond where Fluff-Button +lay. She dared not thump, lest the noise +should betray her presence, but lay very still with +four youngsters nuzzling at her side. By and by +Fluff-Button heard something sniffing its way +towards him, for the tunnel carried sound like a +telephone. The anxious little mother also heard +it, and sat up. Fluff-Button waited until he +judged that the rat was within range, and then +flung up a shower of sand with his hind feet. The +rat squeaked and sat up to dust his whiskers. He +imagined that he had come up a blind passage, and<span class="pagenum">[93]</span> +retraced his steps. Now there were two ways +which he might have taken, but as luck would have +it, he chose the wrong one, and blundered up the +gallery towards Brownie's nursery. It was shaped +like a bottle with a long winding neck, and in the +narrowest part he met Brownie.</p> + +<p>As a rule a doe rabbit is the gentlest of wild +things; but motherhood will nerve the most timid, +and Brownie's whiskers twitched as she faced the +foe who was stealing towards her in the darkness. +The rat cried out, and was answered by three or +four of his comrades, who crowded after him. They +were hungry, and very fierce, for they had already +tasted blood and knew that a meal awaited them +if they could win it.</p> + +</div> + +<p>In mortal terror Brownie struck out right and +left with her teeth, and sundry squeaks told her that +her snaps had taken effect. Two rats clung to her +on either side, but hampered as she was, she kept +the rest at bay, for while she struggled they could +not press past her into the nest.</p> + +<p>Just now the rabbits were in desperate straits. +Two of the weaklier youngsters had been killed, +and many more were badly bitten. Gradually the +rats were driving them out as wolves drive sheep. +All alone in the distant nesting burrow, Brownie +faced her assailants and held her body as a living<span class="pagenum">[94]</span> +shield to protect her little ones; but she was failing +fast. The airless darkness around her seemed full +of noise, hot gasping breathing, and snapping +teeth.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a strong pungent odour drifted down +the passage—an odour which every rabbit knows +and fears; and Brownie made a last despairing +struggle, for her nose told her as well as her eyes +could have done that a stoat was loping towards +the scene of the fight. The rats rallied their forces +in alarm, and the rabbits stampeded anew, for both +knew that their most deadly enemy was hunting +through the warren.</p> + +<p>But for once in a way the stoat brought salvation +to the rabbits on Garry's Hill, for a rash rat snapped, +and his teeth met in the newcomer's shoulder. +Instantly four stiletto points pierced his brain—he +tottered round in a circle, sobbed and died. +The stoat, with his appetite whetted, passed on and +drove into the press of rats. They clung round him +like leeches, but the place was very narrow and they +could not reach his flanks. In that face-to-face +combat in the darkness the odds were with the stoat. +A rat's courage is indomitable and his teeth are +sharp; but between them and those of the stoat +there is all the difference between a scythe and +a bayonet. Both are good cutting instruments,<span class="pagenum">[95]</span> +but the latter is fashioned expressly for war and +the former is not.</p> + +<p>The stoat went into the fray joyously. He +slew two and drove the others back. Then, for he +never noticed Brownie trembling in her nursery, he +glided off and made his way to the main dormitory, +where he found another party of rats assembled. +These fled before him into a 'hide-up,' whither +he followed them, and although he sustained two +or three wounds himself, he mortally wounded +another. The tables were now turned with a +vengeance. The rats were in a worse plight than +their whilom victims; for wet, starving and bewildered, +they were hunted through a strange +warren by their most implacable enemy. The +rabbits had one and all retreated to the remotest +corners which they could find, but the stoat heeded +them not, for he killed among the panic-stricken +rats for the sheer lust of killing. Even if by chance +he crossed a rabbit's trail and followed it up, he +invariably stumbled across some terrified rat who +sat and jibbered in the darkness.</p> + +<div class="p95"> + <div class="splitr" id="p95-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p95-2"> </div> + +<p>At last he was satiated and retired to Fluff-Button's +dormitory to sleep. Two rabbits were dead +besides Brownie's litter, who had paid the grim +penalty which is always paid by nestlings whose +nursery is discovered. Of the rats, two had been<span class="pagenum">[96]</span> +wounded and slain by their fellows; the stoat +had accounted for four; as many more had bolted +from the burrow; and the survivors, some six in +number, cowered in an old nursery as far as possible +from their enemy.</p> + +<p>The stoat slept until the day was well advanced +towards noon, and neither rat nor rabbit dared +to stir lest he should wake and slay once more. +At last he rose and glided from the burrow, and +then—and not until then—did they venture to +leave their hiding-places.</p> + +<p>So that was the end of the great invasion of +Garry's Hill, but it was long before the rabbits +settled down afterwards. As for the remnants of +the rats, they retreated to the little-used end of +the warren and established a system of tiny passages +of their own, running among those of the rabbits. +They lived on terms of armed neutrality with their +unwilling hosts—never daring to attack a full-grown +buck or doe, although not so scrupulous with +regard to nestlings; and often on warm summer +evenings, if you hide behind the brow of the hill +and wait, you may see the rats and rabbits feeding +and playing side by side.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p096.jpg" width="400" height="170" alt="p096.jpg" title="p096.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[97]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="bCHAPTER_IV" id="bCHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE FEAR THAT WAS IN THE WAY</p> + +<p>Brownie was one of the first family of Fluff-Button +and Cuni. It has already been related how she +fought the rats in the Garry's Hill burrow, and +enough has been said to show that she was a +very devoted mother, as indeed most rabbits are. +But she had been so terrified by that experience +that she resolved to make her next nest right away +from the warren; so she dug a hole into the hillside +at about a hundred yards' distance.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="124" alt="left-rabbit.jpg" title="left-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>In the darkness her four babies were only known +to her as a squeaking, naked mass, helpless and +wholly beloved. She was ignorant of their very +number, they had no individuality, nevertheless she +lavished all her care upon them, and lay with them +all day, feeding and licking them. Only at nightfall +she crept out to feed herself, with both ears on +the alert. But very few enemies crossed Garry's +Hill at night. Now and then an owl hooted in +Knockdane; the nightjars purred among the pine +trees at the bottom of the hill; and from the warren +came the distant bustle of the rabbit community—the +munching of many teeth, the splashing of +many feet in the dew, and the stamping of scores +of signals.<span class="pagenum">[98]</span></p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="193" alt="right-rabbit.jpg" title="right-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>The fern croziers had fully uncoiled, and the +lowest bells on the wild hyacinth carillons were +fading, before the babies acquired their fur jackets. +Under ordinary circumstances they would have +remained below ground a few days longer, but an +unfortunate accident hurried them out into the +world.</p> + +<p>Theoretically June is the month of sunshine +and flowers; actually—in Knockdane, at all events—there +are flowers enough, but June is too often +ushered in by pitiless soaking rain. All the new +greenery of the woods is saturated, and the hemlocks +and nettles, stimulated to ardent growth, +begin to send up their shoots waist-high. This is +what happened in the season of which I write, for +it rained for two nights and a day, and all the +flowers seemed drowned. There was trouble enough +in the Garry's Hill burrows, but it was very serious +indeed for Brownie. A nesting-hole is dug for +temporary use only, and has not the drainage of a +permanent burrow. The water soon began to filter +in from the sides, and a very respectable trickle ran +from the entrance. By the second morning the +bedding was soaked, and the sucklings lay in a +pool of water. For the present they were homeless, +and Brownie saw that the only thing was to take +them into the fields. Three brown tots, blinking<span class="pagenum">[99]</span> +painfully in the daylight, crawled on to the grass; +but when the fourth appeared, Brownie sat up, and +her nose worked as fast as the 'quaking grass' round, +for the last little rabbit was as white as the hawthorns +in the hedgerows. There were legends +in Knockdane that, in the days when the beeches +round the Great White House were saplings, there +had been a race of white rabbits in the woods; but +for many many years none had been seen there. +Perhaps some long-gone ancestor had transmitted +his singular colouring to Brownie's nestling, or else +some trifling detail in Nature's machinery had +been out of gear, for she had not a brown hair upon +her, and out on the open slope was as conspicuous +as a crow on a snowdrift. However, the Fur Folk +live and work only in the present. They are guided +by mysterious laws—the accumulated wisdom of +past generations—written in the blood of those who +went before and neglected to obey the code—and +Brownie knew that her babies must lie out on the +hillside, for to take them to the warren was to court +disaster. She hid the first one in a tussock six +feet away in one direction, and the second a few +paces from him, while the third was left in some clover. +The fourth—the white one—had to put up with a +meagre root of rushes. When each little rabbit lay +stone-still, the mother went away herself, for she<span class="pagenum">[100]</span> +knew that her presence would only add to their +danger. When she looked back to judge of the +success of her stratagem, the three brown babies +were invisible in the grass, but the white one could +be seen all over the field. Nevertheless, because +of the rulings of the law of the Fur Folk, Brownie +went her way, and left her litter to shift for themselves +during the day.</p> + +<p>The rain had ceased at sunrise, and, although +grey vapours curled before the clearing lift, the +hillside was a very pleasant place. There were +rosy clover clubs, and the yellow bird's foot trefoil +beloved of blue butterflies, daisies, and the dainty +milkweed, all growing so close together that the +grass was almost crowded out. The fluting of the +blackbirds in Knockdane only seemed the more +mellow for the rain, and skylarks mounted up in +rapturous jubilee.</p> + +<p>The sun had climbed quite high before the +sparrow-hawk came swinging round the wood. He +spied the tell-tale white ears a hundred yards away, +and turned towards them. He slanted down at +fifty miles an hour, glanced aside six feet from +the rush-tuft, and switch-backed upwards again—rabbit +verily, but doubtful—uncanny—<i>white</i>. +Again he stooped and hovered. This stillness, this +whiteness transcended his experience. It was too<span class="pagenum">[101]</span> +blatantly conspicuous—there was surely something +in it not apparent to the eye. Perhaps it was a +trap. As the hawk paused, his grim shadow fluttered +above the youngster in the clover, and the +latter lost his nerve. He ran a few inches and +crouched again. The hawk saw a quarry which +was normal and probably safe. Besides, he was +hungry. He dropped on to the grass, and pitching +lightly, struck. There was a little cry; and then +flying low, overweighted with his burden, he +skimmed across the field.</p> + +<div class="p101"> + <div class="splitr" id="p101-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p101-2"> </div> + +<p>That was the first, but not the last time, that +danger turned aside from the—white rabbit I was +about to say, but let us rather give her the dignity +of capitals, a dignity ever afterwards hers in Knockdane, +and speak of her as the White Rabbit. For +the rest of the day no living things but larks and +bumble bees came near, although once or twice a +bullock blundered by and set the rabbits' hearts +thit-thudding. Towards evening the mother-rabbit +came up the hill to the nesting burrow. The babies +heard her coming well enough, but two—the White +One and a brown—were too well drilled to budge. +The third, however, ran to her unsummoned, and +was instantly punished for his disobedience, for she +kicked him head over heels, and then signalled to +the others that their time of waiting was over.<span class="pagenum">[102]</span> +Whether she noticed that one was missing I cannot +say. The Fur Folk have no time to grieve. She +gathered the three remaining ones together, and fed +them and licked them all over tenderly with soft +whisker kisses.</p> + +<p>They spent that night on the hill. When it +rained the babies sheltered under their mother's soft +coat and did not know how cold it was. Brownie +could have told how sharp the night winds were, +and how wet the ground, but the little bodies under +her white vest were warm, and that was compensation +enough for her.</p> + +<p>The next day they again lay out on the hill; +but alas! the sparrow-hawk has a good memory, +and where he has killed one day, he will come the +next. Thus it happened that on the second evening +only two answered the mother's signal—the White +Rabbit and a brown brother.</p> + +<p>On the third day Brownie took them down the +field. It was dangerous, for the hedge was full of +enemies, but she dared not risk the hawk again. +Even the peeps from the hill had not prepared the +little ones for anything so immense as the world +into which they came, blue sky overhead and grass—a +perfect forest peopled with strange beasts—all +around them. Brownie was ravenous, and the +young ones, watching her tear off grass blades and<span class="pagenum">[103]</span> +eat them up, ventured for the first time on imitation. +She kept her family in the ditch all day, +she herself lying hidden close at hand with eyes and +ears always alert for danger. Nevertheless, for all +her care, the little brown rabbit strayed too far +from her side, and being young and ignorant, he +never heard the sniff-sniff of the stoat hunting +down a runway, until it was too late. Then +Brownie, who knew the meaning of that pitiful +minor cry, very quickly and silently shepherded +her one remaining young one over the fence into +the next field; and the scent was cold before Keen +resumed his hunting.</p> + +</div> + +<p>So only one of the litter remained, and for three +days Brownie guarded her jealously. On the +fourth morning very early they went out to feed. +The dewfall had been very heavy, and soaked +them from nose tip to tail, and the bats wheeled +overhead. The coat of the little White Rabbit +looked weird in the gloom as she sat up and tried +to comb her whiskers as her mother did. Of the +short hot nights of June—of their mystery, and their +majesty, and the ways of their children, what do +men know? Nothing, but they mar much. Only +the white owl had seen Jack Skehan go his rounds +at sunset, and he, who, happy bird, lived where +pole traps were unknown, how could he know the<span class="pagenum">[104]</span> +significance of what was left on the hedge bank? +So it came to pass that at sunrise, when the larks +were singing on the hill, and the whitethroats +babbling in the brambles, Brownie, slithering +through the hedge with her suckling behind her, +slipped her head into a snare cunningly set against +a burrow mouth, and somersaulted into the ditch, +drawing the noose tight round her neck. At the +first alarm the little one bolted and hid tremulously +in a clump of buttercups, not daring to move for +several minutes. Then, as all was still and the +robins began to sing again, she ventured to peep out. +Her mother stood raised on her hind legs as she had +often seen her before when about to climb such a +bank; but now Brownie leaned there statue-still, +her hind paws just dragging on the ground. The +White Rabbit did not understand it at all. She +bit off a few grass blades and tried to chew them +up, but they seemed hard and stringy to her unaccustomed +teeth, and she ventured to nuzzle at +her mother's soft coat. It was quite warm, but +Brownie took no notice of the caress; and when the +little one pushed against her, she swung ever so +gently to and fro.</p> + +<p>The sun rose over the crest of Garry's Hill, and +the dragon-flies—winged needles of red and blue—hawked +backwards and forwards over the brambles.<span class="pagenum">[105]</span> +The White Rabbit did not stray very far from the +place; she waited for her mother to go on, but +Brownie gave no signal, nor did she stir. The little +one grew uneasy, and raising herself on her fluffy +tail licked her mother's flank to show that she was +hungry, but even this never-failing appeal received +no answer. Nevertheless soon afterwards, when +Jack Skehan went the round of his snares, he found +a doe rabbit hanging in the hedge bottom with her +neck broken; and nestling at her side, tiptoeing +up to reach, a little white rabbit was helping herself +to a warm drink. Even in death Brownie fulfilled +the first office of motherhood.</p> + +<div class="p105"> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-0"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-3"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-4"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-5"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-6"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-7"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-8"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p105-9"> </div> + +<p>How the White Rabbit knew that man was +dangerous I cannot say. Hitherto she had innocently +trusted every bird and beast; but bolt she +did, and only just in time, as a dirty brown hand +snatched at her. She ran up the hedge as fast as +her stumpy legs could carry her, stubbing her nose +against hemlock stalks, and tripping over bramble +trailers. It seemed to her that she had run many +miles, but as a matter of fact it was only ten yards +before she flopped down, utterly breathless, with +her flanks heaving. For the first time she was +afraid—terribly afraid. Every leaf concealed an +enemy, every rustle seemed a footstep. Fear was +abroad on the hedgeside. The shadow of the man's<span class="pagenum">[106]</span> +presence lingered even when his footsteps had +passed into the distance. A broody blackbird +'chinked' anxiously, and a pigeon wheeled aside +with a '<i>swoof</i>.' A few inches from where the little +rabbit lay gaped a bolt-hole of the hedge burrow, +and her instinct bade her creep within into the cool, +comfortable darkness.</p> + +<p>This is how the White Rabbit entered upon her +life in the woods, orphaned, with nothing to guide +her but the ancestral code which every rabbit knows. +However, she had already learned three things, and +important ones too—that hawks are dangerous, +stoats still more so, and men are to be dreaded +most of all.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Were I to relate all the vicissitudes which befell +the White Rabbit during the following days, I +should be accused of recounting miracles; for +perhaps under the circumstances not one rabbit in +ten would have survived. The ditch was full of +enemies, for hedges are the Fur Folk's highways +from field to field, and foxes, cats, and stoats +patrolled it from hour to hour. The next evening +the White Rabbit worked along to the demesne +wall, under which a little drain ran, and crept into +the wood. If there was vastness and mystery +in the fields, how much more under the trees?<span class="pagenum">[107]</span> +The sanicle spread a silvery pall above the dying +bluebells; the thick scent of the hawthorn was +borne to and fro on the night wind; and the woodcock, +playing in the dusk, 'chissicked' as they +wheeled overhead. That night, for the first time, +the White Rabbit ate grass and relished it. She +was very hungry, and once her little teeth learned +the knack of nibbling criss-cross up a blade, she +found that it was pleasanter than her previous +attempts had led her to believe. In fact, she was +so intent upon her newly learned accomplishment +that she never heard the owl swoop down with a +thrum of soft wings, and then slant up just as the +hawk had done on the hill. But she heard the +click as he alighted on a branch overhead, and +seeing his eyes, catlike and luminous in the gloom, +she hid under a bush.</p> + +</div> + +<p>A day or two later, the White Rabbit had one +of the narrowest escapes of her life. Perhaps she +had got over her first fright and grown reckless; at +any rate, she came out into the grass in broad daylight. +The field was purple with ripening grasses, +and the warm wind bore the scent of young birch +leaves—the sweetest of all summer scents. It was +good to be alive. The White Rabbit lay down on +her side, and stretched herself luxuriously in the +hot sun. Bees hummed comfortably in the vetches,<span class="pagenum">[108]</span> +and the grasshoppers assiduously polished their +shanks. Suddenly, in the sunshine-chequered hedge, +she caught sight of a curious creature moving gently +to and fro. She had never seen anything quite +like it before. Its deliberate, rhythmical movements +fascinated her, and she watched it dance behind a +dock plant and out again, with an intentness which +rejoiced the heart of a certain wary hunter who +crouched behind the said dock. The White Rabbit +hopped a step or two nearer, and stood up in order +to see this wonderful thing better. At that moment +the cat ceased to lash its tail and sprang. The +rabbit caught a glimpse of unsheathed claws, bared +gums, and dilated eyes, and dived into a forest of +cockfoot grass. The cat, at fault, made short +excited rushes hither and thither as he heard the +rustle of the fugitive's steps, but the White Rabbit +flung herself into a stunted blackthorn bush and +lay gasping. By and by, when she had recovered +sufficiently from her fright to sit up and polish the +'cuckoo froth' from her whiskers, she peeped out; +and lo and behold in a runway, with his paws +tucked away cosily before him, the cat sat and +waited.... The White Rabbit very silently withdrew, +and escaped by the further side of the bush. +That was the fourth lesson she learned: Beware +of the cat—the patient hunter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[109]</span></p> + +<div class="p109"> + <div class="splitr" id="p109-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p109-2"> </div> + +<p>It was not until she was three parts grown that +the White Doe realised that she was not in all +respects like other rabbits. By then she had learned +many things. She knew that the badger and the +hedgehog and the squirrel and the shrew are quite +harmless, but that the fox and the stoat and the +cat must be avoided. She knew that the meadow-grass +tastes better than either the cockfoot or the +couch; and that the surest way to come to grief is +to bolt into a hole without first finding out whether +it has a back door or no. By degrees, however, +she began to find out something more important +still, namely, that the rest of the Fur Folk turned +aside from her path. Did she hop into the clearing +where the other rabbits came of nights to feed, or +visited the Dark Pool among the sallies, then the +circle was immediately broken up, and vanishing +feet fired a whole volley of signals from the bushes. +If she fed in the daytime, the squirrels overhead +chattered and speculated until the jays took up +the matter, and half the woodside was in a fluster. +This knowledge did not come in a day. The +pignut flowers died, and the enchanter's nightshade +had sent up its faint spires in dark places before the +White Rabbit realised her powers. It was the fox +who opened her eyes to the fact that a certain +magic was hers in her perilous ways. One evening<span class="pagenum">[110]</span> +after sunset she squatted upon a 'rabbit's table.' +There is a rabbit 'table' in almost every glade. +It is generally a moss-grown tree stump, or more +seldom an ant-hill, upon which the rabbits love +to sit for the sake of the expansive view (comparatively +speaking) which the extra twelve inches +affords them. It is also very often a trysting-place. +The White Rabbit was washing herself. It +was the penalty which she paid for her uniqueness, +that she was obliged to spend no mean portion of +the day combing her pink ears and cleansing her +silky stockings. Hence she neither heard nor +winded the fox's approach until he snapped a twig +in the clearing itself. Then, looking up, she saw +in the shadows what appeared to be a pair of red +stars. The blood of the White Rabbit seemed +turned to water; she was paralysed with fear; even +her nose ceased its eternal tremolo. She could +only stare back, bemused with terror. It must be +said that the fox had not entered the glade with any +fixed idea of hunting there, he was merely passing +through it; hence the increased awfulness of the +apparition of the ghost-rabbit on the moss cushion. +It was nearly dark, but a shaft of light came down +aslant between two tree-tops. In the gloom she +appeared larger than her natural size—misty, +luminous. The hair along the fox's spine bristled,<span class="pagenum">[111]</span> +a growl rose in his throat. It was so quiet, so +light; as if fascinated he began to tiptoe forward. +Remember that there is hardly anything white +known in the woods, except here and there a flower. +There is neither white bird nor beast; even the +white eggs of the pigeon are laid where none of +the Fur Folk can see them, except it be Koutchee +the squirrel. Men—wiseacres—who would judge +Nature by their printed books, talk grandly of the +benefit of Protective Resemblance, and the Survival +of the Fittest. They have left out of count the germ +planted in the being of the higher Fur Folk—a germ +which is often carried from birth to death undreamed +of, undeveloped—but which in man, another step up +the ladder, becomes a power which is accountable +for untold cruelty and strife—superstition. Had +all rabbits been white since the first of the race, +then indeed the fox's hunting would be easy enough; +but when once in ten generations a white rabbit +appears, its chances of life are many times greater +than those of its fellows, for in the eyes of the hunters +it is compassed round with magic, a thing set apart.</p> + +</div> + +<p>The fox crept to within eight feet of the mystery +and cowered down, for there was little or no scent +to enlighten him as to its nature. The White +Rabbit's red eyes were wide with horror, but under +the nightmare spell of the fox's proximity she could<span class="pagenum">[112]</span> +not move. Fear clogged her limbs, and she watched +him, fascinated. She was, of course, entirely unaware +that it was she herself who thus checked him. She +believed herself almost invisible, and feared to +move lest she should betray her presence, thus +obeying the arbitrary law of her race: Lie still and +he may pass you by. So they gazed eye to eye +while one might pant half a score of times, and then +a heron, sweeping by with a shriek which ripped +the silence of the night, broke the spell. With a +snarl the fox leaped sideways into the bushes; and +the rabbit, ears flattened, paws twitching, crouched +where she was until the rush of his footsteps died +away. After this adventure the White Rabbit +gradually grew bolder. She lived in some ready-made +burrows in the corner of the wood, and fed +in the field below Garry's Hill. But if a prowling +cat or fox came by, and the rest of the community +dived underground, the White One merely sat at +the hole's mouth and waited; and in two cases out +of three the hunter, after a stealthy glance, passed +on. The third case was generally a cat who, +more accustomed to the mysterious ways of men, +their dependents and belongings, was not afraid to +stalk the White Doe of Garry's Hill.</p> + +<p>By this time it was August, and the birds went +to moult in the deepest thickets of Knockdane.<span class="pagenum">[113]</span> +Only an occasional robin sang a bar or two of his +roundelay, or a chiff-chaff, who had forgotten the +rhythm of his call, cried 'chaff-chaff' in the beech +trees. Big spikes of purple loosestrife crowned the +damper clearings, and missel thrushes went out to +the fields in straggling bands. The mornings grew +cooler and later, damp mists steamed up from the +river, and the beeches began to turn orange and +brown. One fine night the cuckoos disappeared, +and the corn-crakes prepared to follow them, for +the corn was ripe, and all through the hazy days +the whirr of machinery was heard from the hills, +like some gigantic grasshopper. The squirrels and +oxeyes squabbled in the hazels, and the badgers +went harvesting when the moon rose. To the Fur +Folk the autumn was a faint echo of the spring. +There was something in the mild, still weather, and +equal hours of day and night, which stirred them +to vague repetition of their doings early in the year. +The rabbits wandered away from their burrows, +and made desultory scrapings by the pathsides, +and the birds, the throstle and pigeon, sang again +half heartedly. The White Rabbit, with no idea +why she did so, also dutifully scratched little holes +in the moss, and followed faint trails which led +nowhere in particular. However, the first frost put +an end to all this; and after the frosts came the<span class="pagenum">[114]</span> +November gales, which slashed the sleet across the +woods. Once or twice the men came to shoot in +Knockdane, but the White Rabbit was safe enough, +for she never made a 'form,' but always lay underground. +In fact, there was little enough covert in +that part of Knockdane in the winter, and in +January, when the foxes were ravenous, the woods +were quite bare. However, the White Rabbit +passed unscathed through that time of peril; even +the traps, which doubly decimated her companions, +spared her. Nature, who had put a mark upon +her which set her apart from her fellows, had in +compensation gifted her with keener wits and +judgment. As everybody knows, a rabbit track +runs hop-dot down the hedgerow like a rosary of +beads, and Paddy Magragh set his snares cunningly +in the beads, which are the little patches from +which the rabbits hop over the tussocks; but the +White Doe went safely to and fro, merely skipping +aside if the wicked loop struck her nose. Perhaps, +again, it was her colour which saved her here, for +many a bunny blundered into the noose when his +fellows chased him in sport or anger; but the brown +rabbits ignored the White Doe, and she hopped +leisurely between her hole and the meadow unharmed. +Nevertheless, towards the end of the winter, she, +with the rest of the rabbit kind, suffered grievously<span class="pagenum">[115]</span> +from famine, for the weather had spoiled all the +greenery in the woods. Here again it was the White +Rabbit who first set the example of climbing into +the boughs of a fallen thorn tree to gnaw a meagre +sustenance from the bark of the ivy entwined in it. +The idea became fashionable in her burrow; and, +clambering clumsily among the branches three or +four feet from the ground, the rabbits chiselled +away at the ivy until its twigs were as white as +bone.</p> + +<div class="p113"> + <div class="splitr" id="p113-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p113-2"> </div> + +<p>With February—the famine month—the love +season began in earnest. All the other rabbits +who lived in the outlying collection of burrows +with the White Doe, forsook them and wandered +down into the woods; while up on Garry's Hill the +ground was dotted with the little tufts of grey wool, +ripped from one rival by another. The White +Rabbit paid no attention to these changes at first, +but led her own contented spinster life. The Wild +Folk concern themselves very little about the doings +of their neighbours; and had every rabbit in +Knockdane been suddenly wiped out of existence, +the White One would not have altered her habits in +a single particular.</p> + +<p>It was not until the woodcock began to mate +that the White Rabbit found out that she was +lonely. Then she left her burrow and went out<span class="pagenum">[116]</span> +into the woods, which was a dangerous thing to do +in daylight. The robin was reciting his marriage +vows to his mate under a holly bush; and the +pigeons, recklessly bold, flapped lazily from tree to +tree. The White Rabbit scraped enthusiastically +for a few minutes, for she felt impelled to unaccountable +energy that day, but when she had dug a few +inches she broke off, for she could not remember +what to do with the hole when she had finished it. +Near at hand a buck rabbit stamped, and presently +another, larger than he, came out of the bushes and +fought him. The White Doe hopped towards them, +but being stranger rabbits they broke off their +tournament, and fled at the sight of her whiteness. +She saw many rabbits that day, and half of them +ran away, and the other half were indifferent. The +White Rabbit had never felt so lonely before—not +even when her mother had been taken from her. +Presently she came upon a luckless rabbit which +had been killed by a stoat an hour before. The +White Rabbit did not know this, and went up to +sniff at him. Here at last was something which +would not run from her; but when she smelt the +fresh blood and saw the wound behind his ear, she +turned and galloped away. There was fear everywhere. +She was feared by her own kind; and +she again feared the blood-hunters. A wren caught<span class="pagenum">[117]</span> +sight of her and began to scold—it, too, was afraid. +The White Rabbit was very sorrowful.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p116.jpg" width="400" height="200" alt="p116.jpg" title="p116.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>The Love Longing was not always so strong. +Sometimes for weeks at a time she lived alone as +happily as heretofore. Then it would break out +again, and send her into the woods; but she never +found a mate, although young rabbits played outside +the burrows, and the birds were all nesting. +So March turned to April, and April to May, and +the lowest bracken fronds opened like green wings +before the crimped tops were uncurled. Then +again one day the Love Longing came upon the +White Rabbit, and she went to the Dark Pool where +the Fur Folk go to drink. There are willow saplings +all round, and the chaffinches were collecting the +down for nest-lining, for the seeds were ripening. +On the further side the White Doe passed a rabbit's +'registry' tree. Most woods have their own +registry where the buck rabbits repair in spring, +and each tries to scrape away the bark and set the +imprint of his teeth a little higher than his fellows. +Most of the rabbit duels take place near these trees. +Sometimes it is a young sycamore, or a laurel, or a +beech, which is chosen out from among the rest; +but in this part of Knockdane it was a willow +sapling, peeled and scored for two feet above the +ground, and with little paths, beaten hard by<span class="pagenum">[118]</span> +rabbity feet, converging to it from every direction. +As the White Doe passed by, she saw a brown buck +rabbit, on his hind legs, leisurely rubbing his whiskers +against the trunk; and hopping up quietly behind +him she touched him with her white nose. He +darted away a few paces, and sat rigid. The White +Doe approached him beseechingly and caressed him +with a whisker kiss; but he only stared horror-stricken +at her wonderful pink eyes, beat his fore +paws once or twice in surprise and dismay, and +scudded out of sight.</p> + +<div class="p118"> + <div class="split" id="p118-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p118-2"> </div> + +<p>All that day the Love Longing would not be +satisfied, and when the White Rabbit fed outside +her burrow after dark, the restlessness in her grew +so strong that she crept from the shadow of the +trees to Garry's Hill. She had scarcely ever +visited her native warren, and on the rare occasions +on which she wandered thither, the whole burrow +had been thrown into a panic. It was dark on the +hill, for the moon was behind the clouds. The +rabbit people were all munching busily, and the +White Rabbit, happy in a sense of companionship, +crouched near them. Now and then one bunny, in +the sheer joy of living, skipped three feet into the +air, and the older bucks chivied the younger ones +in and out of the earthworks which many generations +of excavators had thrown up. Two rabbits<span class="pagenum">[119]</span> +were playing 'tig' on the slope, dodging one another +backwards and forwards. The White Doe watched +their twinkling white scuts for a minute, and then, +just as the moon broke from behind the clouds, with +a hop, skip, and jump she launched herself playfully +between the couple. They stood still for one +paralysed instant, and then, stamping frantically, +the whole community stampeded in every direction. +The White Rabbit did not realise that she was +responsible for this flight, but, believing it to mean +cat or stoat, she bolted with the rest. She plunged +down a burrow and scurried along never-ending +corridors and side-ways. She could hear footsteps +which fled before her, and all round the passages +rang with muffled danger signals. At last she +entered a hide-up, and hearing shuffling feet, +explored it to its end. In the dark she collided +with something which was furry and soft, and felt +twitching whiskers brush her face. Another rabbit +had taken refuge there; and surely it was—yes, it +was—the noses of the Fur Folk are as trustworthy +as our eyes—the same who had repulsed her in +the wood that morning. But obviously he did +not recognise her in the darkness, for he cowered +to her at the end of the passage. There was comfort +in companionship, and they huddled together, +fearful lest something stealthy and terrible should<span class="pagenum">[120]</span> +sniff its way towards them. The White Rabbit +thought of stoats, but the other dreaded nameless +things—magic things, white things—which leaped +out of the gloom. Every now and then the White +Rabbit turned her head and nestled against the +soft fur of the other's shoulder. Here was rabbit—normal +rabbit, brown rabbit—and yet he did +not shrink from her, for in her turn she felt a +tremulous nose sniff at her ears....</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>An hour afterwards the business of the Garry's +Hill warren went on as usual. The White Doe was +still below ground, but after midnight she came +out with the Brown Buck behind her. The rest +of the warren stamped, but little recked she. If +the Brown Buck was staggered at the sight of her in +the moonlight, he did not show it. White or brown, +did he not know the scent of her who had come +to him in the burrow, and who perhaps had stood +between him and the misty terror that had leaped +upon him in the dark. This was rabbit—strange, +it is true—but still rabbit and wholly lovable. +He put his head under her chin that she might +scratch his ears, and this is the greatest token of +esteem among the rabbit kind. Thus the spell was +broken, and the fear which was round the White Doe +was gone, for she had become as other rabbits. She<span class="pagenum">[121]</span> +had entered into her inheritance, the inheritance of +motherhood—the highest happiness known in the +woods.</p> + +<p>They nestled side by side under the old whitethorn +which, for once in a way, forgot to moan as +the wind went down. The moon set, and the fur +of the White Doe gleamed in the starlight. But now +the rabbits around only munched unconcernedly. +There was no more mystery about her; for, in the +words of the greatest love song ever penned, and +as true of the beasts as of the men for whom it +was written, she was her belovèd's, and his desire +was towards her.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p121.jpg" width="400" height="320" alt="p121.jpg" title="p121.jpg" > +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[122]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="bCHAPTER_V" id="bCHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">UNDER THE MOON</p> + +<p>A little band of forewandered plover flapped +southwards drearily. To the east the mountains +were still encumbered with the great snowclouds +which had driven over Knockdane an hour before, +and converted Garry's Hill into a white sugar loaf. +Now it was evening, and as the red sun sank, he +flushed the fields with a dream-pink, while the +moon struggled over the stormy hills.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="124" alt="left-rabbit.jpg" title="left-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>Cuni hopped out into the cold air and shook +each paw delicately, for the snow clung to them. +Her eyes looked bigger and her ears longer than +when we saw her last, for the cruel February +weather, which spared neither the Fur nor the +Feather Folk, had pressed the rabbits sorely. For +weeks frost and thaw had alternated night by night, +and slowly killed every green leaf and blade of +grass. Sometimes cold rain fell and soaked the +woods, at others snow came and covered them. +Within five hundred yards of the warren there +was not a tuft of grass large enough to make a +'form'; and the rabbits lay below ground in their +damp burrows, and tried to deaden the hunger pain +with sleep.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-rabbit.jpg" width="100" height="193" alt="right-rabbit.jpg" title="right-rabbit.jpg"> + +<p>Although it was scarcely an hour since the snowstorm<span class="pagenum">[123]</span> +had blown by, Fluff-Button had already +left Garry's Hill for the woods; and a neat trail—two +little tentative punches of the forefeet over-passed +by the bolder impression of the hind—indicated +which path he had taken. Cuni followed +him across the field. The snow was not more than +two inches deep and the longest grass blades peered +through it.</p> + +<p>Knockdane Woods are surrounded by a mason-built +stone wall six feet high; but in one spot the +ivy, insinuating itself between the stones, has +loosened them, and the smaller Fur Folk—the +rabbits, rats, and stoats—have scratched a tunnel +leading into the woods. Through this passage +Cuni hopped, and passed from the bleakness of the +white fields into an enchanted palace. Every twig +and bough bore its burden of whiteness. The +fir trees were converted into huge Christmas trees, +and the beeches' branches were etched against a sky +suffused with the illusive lilac reflections of the +snow. There was an uncanny white glamour over +the woods, and except for the distant roar of the +unfrozen river rushing between its banks, a vast +silence had fallen upon Knockdane.</p> + +<p>Not far from the wall, in a clearing, there is a pool. +It is black and stagnant, with banks overgrown +with yellow pimpernel, water flags, and rushes;<span class="pagenum">[124]</span> +nevertheless many of the Fur Folk depend upon it +for their water supply. To-night it was darned +across with ice needles, and the silver 'cat-ice' +round the edge crackled under Cuni's paws. As +she expected, Fluff-Button was seated on the +other bank taking a tonic. In winter when the +grass is sodden and tasteless, rabbits are seized with +a burning desire for strong astringent food, and +they often wander far from their burrows to seek +rushes, or the dry bark of saplings. To-night +Fluff-Button gnawed the knotted roots of the wild +iris, and as their bitterness burnt his mouth and +made him sneeze, his nose quivered with pleasure. +On any other night Cuni would have kept at a +respectful distance from her lord; but to-night, in +spite of the frost and snow, the Love Longing was +beginning to awaken among the rabbit kind, and +instinctively she felt that he would not repulse her. +She approached him diffidently, and, instead of +chasing her away, he merely glanced up and coughed. +She squatted at his side and chiselled away at the +iris roots, until the moon grew bright enough to light +snow candles on every twig and bough.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 421px;"> +<a name="p2" id="p2"></a> +<img src="images/p124.jpg" width="421" height="600" alt="FLUFF-BUTTON WAS SEATED ON THE OTHER BANK +TAKING A TONIC" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FLUFF-BUTTON WAS SEATED ON THE OTHER BANK +TAKING A TONIC</p> + +<p>So busy were they that they never heard the +footsteps of Garry Skehan, when, half an hour later, +he crossed the snowy hill to Knockdane, nor +noticed how they paused at the spot where the +<span class="pagenum">[125]</span>double trail entered the wood. The woodcraft +of Garry Skehan was of a rough and ready sort; +for him wild creatures were divided into two +broad classes—those which could be trapped and +those which could not—but even he could tell that +this was a rabbit run, and he chuckled over it. +By and by he tramped away over the crisp snow, so +softly that not even the drowsy pigeons overhead +heard him.</p> + +<p>Many of the Fur Folk passed outside the wall +that night, and each one stopped to look at the +place where Garry Skehan had knelt and scored the +surface with his clumsy boots. First of all a rat +came along, trailing his naked tail callously on the +snow behind him. He gave one glance at the spot, +and then hurriedly crossed the wall lower down. +By and by a stoat passed. It is not in stoat nature +to resist a hole wherever it may lead, and this one +gingerly thrust in his nose; but at that moment +he caught sight of something under his feet and +drew back quietly. The mice came by and danced +fairy quadrilles over the snow, but they also left the +hole in the wall alone.</p> + +<p>As the moon rose higher the frost began to bite, +and the snowflakes, which had hitherto dropped +rhythmically from the branches, were welded firmly +together; while every leaf upon the ground was so<span class="pagenum">[126]</span> +crisped with rime that it crackled under the touch. +Fluff-Button and Cuni, having made a scanty meal of +such bramble leaves and ferns as remained green, +turned homewards. Cuni went first, for her mate +dallied behind to scratch his whiskers against a tree +trunk. She came to the hole in the wall and hopped +inside, for among the stones and mortar was hollowed +a little chamber. There was a thin wind blowing, +which had drifted the snow against the opposite +opening and blocked it up, but the drift was not +thick, and crumbled away when Cuni thrust her +nose against it. The field was a white blank, +marked with inky shadows below the trees, and +not a living thing was in sight.</p> + +<p>With one comprehensive hop Cuni alighted in +the drift, and at the same instant something seized +her hind leg. 'When in doubt, skip!' is the rabbit +maxim, which she obeyed instantly, but she was +rudely jerked back into the snow, and the grip on +her leg tightened. She whisked round to see her +foe, and behold there was nothing there. Cuni was +terrified. She began to struggle desperately, but +although the enemy's clutch tightened, there was +nothing to be seen but a long strand of copper wire +on the snow. Just then there was a rattle of stones, +and Fluff-Button hopped through the wall. He +noticed nothing amiss, and seeing that the snow<span class="pagenum">[127]</span> +was scraped away all round he began to munch +the frozen grass blades. In some measure his +presence reassured Cuni. She ceased to struggle, +and in the perfect bliss of her mate's proximity +almost forgot the mysterious enemy that held her.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the face of the night was changed. +A snowstorm came up and drove tiny stinging +flakes over the woods. They sifted into the rabbits' +coats until Fluff-Button hopped inside the wall, +shaking his ears. Cuni tried to follow, and although +that unknown <i>something</i> clutched her again, yet +it permitted her to creep just inside the hole. Her +body prevented the entrance of the driving snow, +and Fluff-Button came and snuggled against her +warm vest, while his twitching whiskers left soft +'butterfly kisses' on her nose. In the mother-instinct, +which is as easily awakened in the woods +as among men, Cuni forgot that Fluff-Button was +the King-Buck whose will was law in the warren, and +only remembered that he was cold and came to her +for warmth. She disregarded the snow which +chilled her from without, and licked him with +her warm tongue as tenderly as if he had been +a sleepy suckling in the nesting burrow.</p> + +<div class="p127"> + <div class="splitr" id="p127-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p127-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p127-3"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p127-4"> </div> + +<p>The snowstorm passed and the rabbits +came out again. The moon +sailed up a sky as black and<span class="pagenum">[128]</span> +mysterious as a forest pool; and drowned the stars, +until only one great white one survived, and blinked +down like a wicked eye. Fluff-Button hopped away +evidently expecting his mate to follow him, and was +much perplexed to find that she was unable to do +so. He sniffed her all over carefully, beseeching +her to accompany him. Cuni tried her best, but in +vain, and lay down panting. Fluff-Button became +seriously annoyed. He was not used to disobedience, +and it must be told that he kicked his mate hard +with his strong hind leg. Finding that this did no +good, he became alarmed. Wild creatures hate +and fear the unknown, and Cuni's predicament +was a most uncanny thing to rabbit ideas. Fluff-Button +hopped away and began to feed doubtfully +on an old turnip rind some thirty yards off, and +took no notice of his mate's signals and struggles.</p> + +<p>At last Cuni lay still and watched him. Nature +is kind to her wild children, and after the first biting +coldness of the snow sends a blessed lethargy which +soothes away the pain. Cuni was fast drifting into +this dreamy state when her senses suddenly returned +to her and she sat up alertly. Silhouetted against +the white field stole a lithe form—pads which made +no noise, eyes gleaming faintly red, ears cocked +forward towards the prey ahead of him in the +snow, while the moonlight laid a long grotesque<span class="pagenum">[129]</span> +shadow behind. The fox was thin and weak with +famine, and his whole attention was riveted upon +Fluff-Button, who sat with his back turned. He +began to stalk his victim as noiselessly as a cat, +taking advantage of every ant-hill or snowdrift to +screen himself.</p> + +<p>There are two laws which have been given to +the rabbit kind in the hour of danger. One is, +'Squat and be still'; and the other is, 'Scoot, if +you will, but let your fellows know it.' A few +rabbits obey the first all their lives; but the majority—Cuni +among the number—'scoot' on an alarm, +but as they run they stamp upon the ground that +their friends may hear and do likewise. However, +Cuni was wounded, and her wise instinct bade her +lie still, and then the fox would pass her by. With +frightened fascinated eyes she watched the dark +form slide over the snow, clapping flat if the unconscious +Fluff-Button chanced to move.</p> + +<p>'Lie still,' whispered Instinct, numbing her +limbs with fear, 'he will never see you.' But the +Angel who works for the good of the race, and who +sacrifices his units that his tens may be saved, +cried: 'Stamp aloud and warn him, no matter +what it may cost.' The two impulses struggled +together in Cuni's heart, and the fox cramped his +limbs together for the final rush.<span class="pagenum">[130]</span></p> + +<p>'Thump!' It was a very feeble little sound, +muffled by the soft snow. 'Again!' cried the +stronger Angel, and summoning up all her strength, +Cuni stamped again. This time Fluff-Button heard. +Without as much as a glance behind, he bolted for +the wall, leaped over his mate, dashed into the +tunnel, and the scurry of his steps died away.</p> + +<p>The fox checked abruptly; he knew that in the +woods he had no chance against a cunning buck +rabbit, and if Cuni had lain still perhaps all might +have been well. Unluckily panic seized her, and, +stamping again and again, she struggled for her +freedom. The fox saw her and began to stalk +anew, for there seemed something uncanny about this +rabbit, and he dared not risk a rush too soon. Cuni +forgot her pain, she forgot her fear and even that +desire to live which is so firmly implanted in each one +of the Fur Folk, in her overmastering rage at the +thing which held her. With tooth and claw she +attacked the peg round which the wire was twisted, +but the frost had bound it firmly to the snow. Ah! +a last spasmodic jerk wrenched it up, and trailing +a broken leg, Cuni crept into the wall—free. Alas! +just the other side she was brought up with a jerk. +The peg was wedged between two stones, and she +was as much a prisoner as ever, although just +beyond the fox's reach. She heard his stealthy pads<span class="pagenum">[131]</span> +scrunch on the snow the other side of the wall, and +then he found the hole. He lay down on his side +and thrust his head into the opening; and when +he snorted, Cuni felt his hot breath on her whiskers. +He began to whimper eagerly, and scrape at the +loose stones and mortar. He worked his shoulders +further and further in, and the little chamber was +filled with dust. Presently he drew back—his +cunning wits had told him of a better way. Just +here the wall was too high to leap, but further down +it was lower, and there he could climb over. Cuni +heard his footsteps tiptoe away, and then her +Guardian Angel whispered that her teeth were +sharp and pointed out a way to freedom—but not +the cost. She listened to the counsel, for the desire +to live burnt fiercely within her and her leg was +twisted and useless now, a mere encumbrance. +There was a short, sharp struggle, and the snare and +its captive were parted indeed. Stiff and numbed, +she crept away among the trees.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Twenty yards further on there was a clearing +where the snow lay soft and deep. Here Fluff-Button's +trail could be seen plainly, and the wide +tracks showed that he had crossed it at full gallop. +Cuni set out to follow it, plodding along in the +muffling snow, and stumbling into drifts at every +step. The woods were dead—neither Fur nor<span class="pagenum">[132]</span> +Feather Folk stirred—and Fluff-Button's solitary +trail alone broke the blankness before her; but +whereas his consisted of four regular punctures, +that which she left beside it had three only, and, +in place of the fourth, a red stain. She dared not +pause, for the twilight was full of a horror which +was all the greater that it was nameless and but +dimly realised—the fear of the hunted when strength +fails. The shadows seemed full of shining eyes +and crouching forms which would spring if she lay +down, for she did not know that the fox had already +given up the quest, and left her alone.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p131.jpg" width="400" height="194" alt="p131.jpg" title="p131.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>The snow was soft and deadly cold. It clogged +her limbs like so much clay, and the very air was so +chilled that she seemed to draw her breath in +nothingness.</p> + +<p>Still Fluff-Button's trail ran forward towards the +Pine Tree burrows, which are warm and deep, and +down which no fox can pass; and Cuni stumbled on +blindly, for it is the instinct of the Fur Folk when +maimed or sick to death to seek some hiding-place +where not even the stars can spy upon them.</p> + +<p>Presently she fell into a deeper drift, and +because she was too tired to struggle out, she lay +still. It was good to rest awhile before setting out +once more, and feel the pain and fear slip away +before the blessed peace which stole over her. The<span class="pagenum">[133]</span> +snow now seemed so warm and dark that she +believed herself in the Pine Tree burrows, and +nestled down as contentedly as if she leaned against +Fluff-Button's soft coat. Her nose ceased to quiver +as her breath came more and more faintly, and +her big brown eye closed; while her spirit drifted +further and further away, until it silently crossed the +borderland into the country from which there is no +return.</p> + +<p>A cloud blotted out the moon and wrapped the +woods from end to end in the vast silence of snow. +Great flakes as big as pigeon's feathers floated down +into the clearing. The double trail was covered up, +and the drifts piled higher and higher, until not even +the tip of a dark ear peeped out to show where little +Cuni lay.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p133.jpg" width="400" height="495" alt="p133.jpg" title="p133.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[134]</span></p> + +<h2>STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF GRIMALKIN THE CAT</h2> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[136]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="cCHAPTER_I" id="cCHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE FIRST HUNTING</p> + +<div class="p137"> + <div class="splitr" id="p137-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p137-2"> </div> + +<p>When it was discovered that the stable-cat had +a litter of kittens in the hayloft, sentence of death +was pronounced immediately, and before noon three +little grey corpses floated in the horse pond. The +fourth kitten, <i>the</i> kitten, with whom this history +deals, was actually in the water, when the cook +came by and begged for his life in order that he +might later rid the kitchen of mice, in spite of the +gardener's assertion that 'Thim wild cats had a +divil in thim as big as an ass, an' would niver quit +ramblin'.' However, in his early days, Grimalkin +showed no signs of any such demoniacal possession. +He was a strangely sedate kitten. Possibly his +narrow escape had affected his spirits, for he spent +his days in eating such scraps as came in his way, +in sleeping, and in evading the flying feet of the<span class="pagenum">[138]</span> +cook and her satellites. Hence, for many days his +horizon was bounded by the four walls of the kitchen +and the square of backyard, in the corner of which +was the ashpit—to feline ideas the Elysian Fields. +The yard was enclosed by a high wall, and wooden +doors shut it off from the outside world, so that +at the time of which I write, Grimalkin had had +but most fleeting glimpses of what lay beyond.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-cat.jpg" width="100" height="118" alt="left-cat.jpg" title="left-cat.jpg"> + +<p>In one place the wall was overhung by a laurel +bush, and here the sparrows used to squabble +and chatter all day long, except when now and then +a sinuous black form stole along the coping and +dropped into the yard. This was the farmyard +mouser, Sir Charles, a worthy who, although he +possessed a name befitting a Crusader, was nevertheless +a prowler, a poacher, and a buccaneer +born and bred. One half of his time he spent in +filching stray morsels from the kitchen and in +dozing in the sun, while the rest of his days were +passed—Grimalkin did not know where. But Paddy +Magragh, the earthstopper of Knockdane, could +have told you how often he saw the glossy black +form sneaking along the hedgerows, or 'lying up' +beside a rabbit burrow.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-cat.jpg" width="100" height="108" alt="right-cat.jpg" title="right-cat.jpg"> + +<p>About the time that Grimalkin's eyes intensified +from their original pale kitten blue to the yellow +of maturer cathood, it happened that Sir Charles<span class="pagenum">[139]</span> +returned from a three weeks' sojourn in the woods. +His coat was sleek and glossy, and comfortable +and contented was his face, as of one who had lived +well for some time. The early autumn evening +was drawing in after a still, misty day. Sir Charles +squatted by the ashpit wall; and Grimalkin from +the scullery steps noted with admiration how he drew +his supple paw behind his ears after applying it to +his tongue, and how he scientifically smoothed his +sooty waistcoat. Suddenly he ceased his ablutions +and gazed fixedly at the foot of the wall, lashing his +tail lightly. Grimalkin, following the direction of +his eyes, saw a tiny grey dot moving among the +cobblestones. The black cat made a dart—springing +out and back in two nimble bounds—then cantered +across the yard with it in his mouth. He dropped +it on the stones and watched it scurry for covert, +but before it could reach it he headed it off and +struck it with his paw. Henceforth it ran round in +little futile circles as though bewildered, and every +time it scuttled out of striking distance he carried +it back to the middle of the yard. Suddenly he +caught sight of Grimalkin, crouched hard by with +his eyes as round as a pigeon's as he watched this +most fascinating game. The veteran breathed a +low growl over his shoulder which made the kitten +shrink hastily behind the doorpost; but the next<span class="pagenum">[140]</span> +minute he was peeping out again, staring with all his +eyes, and no wonder, for, for the first time in his life, +Grimalkin was witnessing the death-game which +the cat kind play over their 'kill.' At last the +little grey beast would run away no more, but lay +still, gasping; and even when its captor pushed it +with his paw it did not try to escape. The black +cat stood up and yawned—the sport was over. +Had it been a rat or a mouse he would have killed +it outright and then feasted—but a shrew! Sir +Charles was an old hunter, but since the long-gone +day when he struck down his first rabbit, he had +never tasted a shrew. He strolled away and left +it where it lay. No sooner was his back turned +than Grimalkin slipped across the yard and approached +circumspectly. For him so far the animal +kingdom had consisted of three divisions only: +cats, men, and cockroaches. Evidently this was a +fourth species, for, although not very much larger +than a cockroach, instead of being rust coloured it +was grey, and its coat was furry like his own.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="p140"> + <div class="split" id="p140-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p140-2"> </div> + +<p>He touched it stealthily with his paw, but it did +not move. Grimalkin was disappointed. He had +liked to see it run about and struggle, and now it +was so still; nevertheless there was something +mysteriously alluring about it, and all unconsciously +he began to leap and gambol round it even as the<span class="pagenum">[141]</span> +other cat had done. He gathered it up in his paws +and flung it over his head, leaping after it and +shaking it, but its nose only twitched feebly and it +fumbled with its paws. By now it was nearly +dark, and Cook, who had an idea that a cat of any +age was necessarily possessed of a charm to scare +away mice, came out to look for him. For the first +time in his life Grimalkin turned and spat at her, lest +she should intend to snatch his treasure from him. +Then he darted with it into the kitchen, and took +refuge under the dresser.</p> + +<p>'Shure, he has a mouse cot at last,' said Cook, +well pleased. She turned down the light, raked out +the fire and left the room, locking the door behind +her. Then Grimalkin crept on to the hearth, +carrying his mouse with him. As a rule he drowsed +happily all evening, for then there was peace in the +kitchen, and no fear of heavy felt-shod feet descending +upon his tail. To-night, however, he did not sleep, +but sat and watched the glow of the embers slowly +fade beneath a coat of white ash. Presently a +cinder dropped with a crash, and that was a sign +for the cockroaches to come out. They ran to and +fro in the shadows, and the red light turned their +wing-cases to copper. Grimalkin often caught and +ate beetles, but to-night he did not look at them, +but wandered restlessly about the room. After one<span class="pagenum">[142]</span> +circuit of the walls he came back to the hearth again. +The mouse lay where he had left it, and a bright +red bead had risen among its fur. Grimalkin +touched it stealthily with his tongue. It left a +warm saline taste in his mouth—a taste he had never +known before—the taste of fresh blood. He drew +back licking his chops. All at once he felt afraid +of this small still thing; but the taste of the blood +mounted to his head like strong wine. The beetles +still ran to and fro upon the hearth, but he did +not look at them. He felt a vague indescribable +yearning for something. He was not cold nor +hungry, nor thirsty nor in pain, and yet he was +not comfortable. Grimalkin did not know that +it was the taste of the blood which had awakened +this strange indefinable desire in him; nevertheless +it was so, and an instinct was roused which would +make it impossible for him to spend another night +between four walls.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="p142"> + <div class="split" id="p142-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p142-2"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p142-3"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p142-4"> </div> + +<p>The shutter of the window was carelessly fastened, +and a sudden draught of air blew it in. +The lower half of the casement was open, +and the night wind bore in the rustle of +the trees, and the sough of the breeze in +the laurel bush by the wall—the laurel +bush which formed a bridge from the +yard to the woods, across which so<span class="pagenum">[143]</span> +many generations of cats had gone forth to their +hunting.</p> + +<p>Overhead the skies were cloudy, with here and +there a befogged star. The air swayed by the south +wind was hot and heavy. Great moths and wheeling +bats flitted by. From the ash tree the leaves fell +now and then with a patter like a footstep. The +woods came up almost to the doors of the house, and +as Grimalkin listened, the piteous scream of a +rabbit close at hand made his whiskers stiffen and +his tail move. The roar of the river over the weir +rose and fell, now low now loud, as the night wind +carried it by. Grimalkin uttered an almost inaudible +cry. The Night Longing, that mysterious power +which draws all animals, wild and tame, gripped +him. You may hear a dog howling the night-long +by his kennel—the Night Longing which he cannot +obey hangs heavy over his mind. When evening +comes the purring tabby dozing by the fire rises and +steals into the cold and darkness without. It is +always the same. Man has taken them and tamed +them, worked them and cherished them, but once +in a while the woods call—the woods where their +fathers were born and hunted and died—and they +go. It is also certain that those among men who +spend much time alone under the free sky, feel the +Night Longing also, and obey it.<span class="pagenum">[144]</span></p> + +<p>The sweet clean smells of the night called to +Grimalkin to come. He did not know what this +impelling force might mean. He could not know +that for centuries this had been the hour for his +ancestors to rise and go forth to the night's hunting. +He only knew that, come what might, he must leap +out into the darkness, over the garden wall and into +the woods beyond. They filled the night with that +vast silence which is full of movement. They +were his inheritance. He came from the hedgerows +and thickets, and thither he would return. Behind +him lay the dark kitchen where the embers threw a +glow over the dead mouse—the spoils of his first +hunting; and in front of him were the woods and +the night. Grimalkin poised himself upon the +window-sill for a moment, then the Night Longing +called again, and he leaped.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p144.jpg" width="400" height="294" alt="p144.jpg" title="p144.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[145]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="cCHAPTER_II" id="cCHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE STEALTHY DEATH</p> + +<p>In September daylight and darkness are equally +divided. The days are still and mellow, with a +blue haze which clings to the shadows of the woods; +and at night the big moon rolls over the eastern +mountains, and turns the fog in the valleys into a +silver sheet.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-cat.jpg" width="100" height="118" alt="left-cat.jpg" title="left-cat.jpg"> + +<p>All through the warm nights the Fur Folk come +and go through Knockdane Woods, for the men +sleep in the Great White House and no one disturbs +them. Strange things happen at night under the +trees of which humans have no idea; and one of the +strangest of all in Knockdane is the tale of how +Grimalkin the cat tried a fall with the Stealthy +Death and escaped alive.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-cat.jpg" width="100" height="108" alt="right-cat.jpg" title="right-cat.jpg"> + +<p>For many months Grimalkin had lived a dual +life, spending part of the day at the Great White +House, but wandering back to the woods at night. +But as time went on, and his strength and cunning +increased, his visits to men became fewer and shorter, +and his absences stretched into days and weeks. +No cat will stay by the hearth in early summer +when the young rabbits are out, especially when +the blood of semi-wild ancestors runs in his veins. +The keepers grew to recognise Grimalkin and to<span class="pagenum">[146]</span> +hate him; and, indeed, he was recognisable enough—a +huge grey tabby, strong enough to pull down a +grown rabbit, and cunning enough to know a keeper +with a gun from a prowling poacher like himself.</p> + +<p>There are some nights on which, although they +may seem eminently favourable to a mere human +hunter, the Fur Folk do not stir abroad. On the +other hand, there are others on which they come +forth in their scores—the hunters and the hunted—and +such nights are known in the woods as hunters' +nights. It was such a night in Knockdane. The +air was warm, but a little breeze was stirring, and +one by one the leaves floated down on their fallen +fellows with a rustle like a faint footstep. Big white +moths whirred round the ivy blossoms and bats +wheeled through the clearings. The moon rose +early, and by the time the afterglow had faded +she was high in the sky, casting long shadows across +the Hollow Field.</p> + +<p>Grimalkin trotted quickly through the wood +with the easy swing and depressed tail of a cat +who knows where he is going. Every now and then +he paused with uplifted paw as some twig fell with +a crackle to the ground, or a patter of leaves told of +game afoot, and the green light flickered in his eyes. +The fence which separates the Hollow Field from +the wood had run to waste for many years, before<span class="pagenum">[147]</span> +the blackthorns, each as thick as a man's arm, +had been trimmed; and their roots had been +undermined in every direction by rabbits. Inside +the field the fence's foot was overgrown with +tussocks of long grass, honeycombed by runways. +It was easy to crouch in one of these until a young +rabbit hopped within distance, and then a few soft +steps—a pounce—and the kill. Grimalkin slid +into the grass, which closed over his striped back +and hid him.</p> + +<p>The moon was bright as day. Further down the +fence half a dozen rabbits were feeding; but the +other side of the field, beyond which lay a beech +wood, was deep in shadow. Shrill threads of sound +from a neighbouring grass tuft meant that the field +mice were squabbling among the fallen beech nuts; +but Grimalkin only cocked one ear and tucked his +paws away neatly against his chest. It was a +hunter's night and he awaited nobler quarry.</p> + +<p>A long hour passed. Then one of the rabbits sat +up and kicked the ground uneasily, while the rest +listened. A rabbit was cantering across the field +towards them. She picked her way among the +thistles, and stopped every now and then quivering. +She did not seem in a hurry, and yet was apparently +quite unaware of their presence. The other rabbits +thumped suspiciously and scattered—there was<span class="pagenum">[148]</span> +something uncanny about the way this rabbit ran. +She came straight towards Grimalkin; her eyes +were wide and staring as she glanced behind her, +and her limbs moved stiffly. Grimalkin drew +himself together. As she lilted within a yard of +him, he sprang and struck. The rabbit sobbed, +and rolled over panting. Beautiful, lithe, cruel, +Grimalkin leaped upon her and dealt the death blow, +ere commencing the death-game which the cat kind +always play over the stricken quarry. He stood +listening for a moment, and a rustle in the grass +made him pause. His ear caught the faint unmistakable +sound of a hunter who hunts his quarry +by scent, and who smells fresh blood near at hand. +Down towards the rabbit stole a stealthy dark +shape, sniffing as it came upon the line. Keen, the +stoat, seldom misses his kill, and woe betide the +beast who crosses his trail; he hunts for the joy of +killing, and in the woods they call him in whispers, +'the Stealthy Death.' The stoat paused and saw +the dead rabbit, and the cat standing over it with +a wicked gleam in his small eyes. He squeaked +once, and then—like a bent watch-spring loosed—flung +himself upon his enemy. Had his fangs +sunk where he intended—into the great arteries of +the neck—Grimalkin would speedily +have lain beside the rabbit; but<span class="pagenum">[149]</span> +he partially missed his hold, and fastening into +the shoulder instead, clung there like a leech. +Grimalkin felt the hot blood trickle down, and, +wild with fear and wrath, he smote and bit desperately +at the clinging death which hung upon +his neck. He had never encountered an enemy +who fought after this fashion. His claws ripped +the stoat's flank. With a squeak, Keen shifted his +hold from the shoulder to the throat, half throttling +Grimalkin. The combat raged to and fro, the cat +striking, spitting, writhing, and the stoat battered, +torn, flung this way and that, but all the while +burying his fangs deeper in his victim's flesh. The +death which Keen deals is slow but very sure. +The dog worries, and the cat tears his prey, but +the stoat silently sucks the life-blood, until the +quarry, struggle as he may, succumbs at last, with +only four tiny wounds in the throat to show how his +strength was drained away.</p> + +<div class="p148"> + <div class="split" id="p148-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p148-2"> </div> + +<p>A battle on these terms could not last. Already +the great cat was tiring—weakened by loss of blood +and the weight on his neck. He rolled over exhausted, +and although his claws tore feebly at his +enemy, his eyes were half closed and his tongue +lolled out. Keen knew that his time had come. +He loosened his hold for an instant, instinctively +seeking a fresh grip upon the great blood-vessels<span class="pagenum">[150]</span> +behind the ear. But that instant proved his +undoing. Grimalkin, roused from his stupor by +the prick of a new wound, rose with a sudden convulsive +effort. His enemy was off his guard, and +left his side exposed. Instantly Grimalkin buried +his teeth in it. He held on grimly, crushing the +life out of the slender writhing form until it ceased +to quiver and throb, and hung limp. Then he flung +it aside, and Keen, his white chest stained scarlet, +lay stretched on the grass beside the dead rabbit.</p> + +<p>Grimalkin did not stay to look at this, his +record kill. It was no time to triumph. His life-blood +had been drained freely, he felt weary and +strangely weak. He crawled to the hedgerow, +and sought an old lair of his, a deserted rabbit +burrow. Dead leaves had drifted in, and it was +dry and safe. Here Grimalkin lay and nursed his +wounds, until the sunshine striking on the hedge side, +and the singing of the flies over the grey and brown +spots in the grass, brought home to him the fact that +he was hungry, and must go out and hunt in the +woods again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p150.jpg" width="400" height="299" alt="p150.jpg" title="p150.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[151]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="cCHAPTER_III" id="cCHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">'THE COLLARED BUCK'</p> + +<p>On the northern slope of Knockdane there is a little +glen whose sides are hung with ivy and aromatic +ale-hoof, and which is so deep that even on the +longest day of the year the sun can never climb high +enough to shine upon its southern wall. The glen +is strewn with limestone rocks, and at its head +stands a twisted crab-apple tree. Beneath the roots +of the latter there is a dry roomy chamber into +which dead leaves have either drifted or been +carried; for the Crab Tree burrow has been beloved +of the Fur Folk ever since the tree itself began to +bear a yearly load of wizened fruit. Some have +used it as a den, some as a nursery, and many more +as a sanctuary. Grimalkin adapted it to the first +of these uses, and took up his abode there at the end +of November.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-cat.jpg" width="100" height="118" alt="left-cat.jpg" title="left-cat.jpg"> + +<p>Frost and snow seldom come to Knockdane +before January. During the close of the year +the weather is damp and mild; rain drips relentlessly +upon the sodden ground; and the scarlet and +orange agarics in the moss are the only things which +flourish. One morning in mid-December Grimalkin +went hunting among the bramble thickets of upper +Knockdane. The whole place was traversed by an<span class="pagenum">[152]</span> +elaborate system of runways, the geography of +which was accurately known to the rabbit people +alone. A warm mist lay over the woods, distilling +into great drops on every grass blade and twig +ere dripping to the saturated ground. Indeed, it +was hard to tell which was the most water-logged—the +earth or the air. Like all his race, Grimalkin +hated the wet, and he shook his head impatiently +as the water trickled inside his ears. The air was +so damp and heavy among the briars that there +was little or no scent, so that when a rabbity waft +came to his nostrils he knew that the trail must be +fresh. He turned down a side alley, and suddenly +came face to face with the most amazing rabbit +which he had ever beheld. It was large and grey, +but the strangest thing about it was a broad white +stripe which passed completely round its neck and +ended in a pointed gorget. The rabbit was squatting +with its ears flattened and its eyes half closed, and +in this attitude the strange collar stood out round +its neck in so uncanny a fashion that Grimalkin +paused doubtfully. Suddenly fear leaped into its +eyes—its ears sprang up vertically, and just as +Grimalkin cramped himself together for a rush, the +strange rabbit wheeled round and burst out of the +'form.' Grimalkin pulled himself up abruptly, for +he was too experienced a hunter to give chase;<span class="pagenum">[153]</span> +but even in that brief space he had time to remark +that its tail was not carried in the usual jaunty +rabbit manner, but was depressed like that of a +hare.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-cat.jpg" width="100" height="108" alt="right-cat.jpg" title="right-cat.jpg"> + +<p>That was the first time that Grimalkin met the +Collared Buck rabbit of upper Knockdane. The +Collared Buck, like the lost Incas, was the last +of his race. Years before, a whole colony of white-necked +rabbits had lived in the hedgerows outside +the wood, but their ornament had proved a fatal +guide to foxes and stoats, and this winter the sole +survivor lived in Knockdane, a hermit and a +solitary. He had his headquarters in a burrow +in the elder thicket above Grimalkin's glen; but +as in that wet season, like many other of the holes +in Knockdane, it was often full of water, he was +obliged to 'lie up' in the woods, whether he liked +or not. Very early in the morning, after moonset, +he went out to feed in the sheep field by a well-worn +track; but, as soon as the 'false dawn' appeared, +he returned to the wood, and made a 'form' in +some patch of fern or bramble, where he passed the +day. Grimalkin the cat never wasted his time over +rabbits unless there was reasonable chance of success, +and although he often crossed the Collared Buck's +hot trail he never turned aside to follow it. Sometimes +indeed he caught a glimpse of the Buck himself<span class="pagenum">[154]</span> +lilting across a clearing in the starlight, or feeding +with a wary eye fixed on covert; but this rabbit's +remarkable appearance was only equalled by his +cunning, as indeed Grimalkin soon saw for himself.</p> + +<p>One crisp January day Grimalkin was taking +a sun-bath in the fork of a large beech tree, when +a sudden 'bang-bang' apprised him that men were +in the wood, and that they were there with intent +to slay. Grimalkin regarded men with more +hatred and less fear than did the Fur Folk themselves, +for his early days by the fireside had made an +indelible impression upon him; but he was aware +of the limitations of human discernment, and knew +that if he remained where he was he would be +reasonably safe. The reports of the guns came +nearer, and presently a pair of jays flew overhead, +squawking to all the birds within earshot that +it was time to move on. In front of the beech tree +the trees grew more sparsely, and the ground was +encumbered with a low growth of fern and bramble. +By and by the shooting party came out of the +covert and advanced slowly up the glade. Grimalkin, +blinking down from his coign of vantage, saw rabbit +after rabbit bolt from its 'form' only to turn a +somersault and collapse into a palpitating heap. +Just below the beech tree there was a thick patch +of briars, broken up by numerous passages and<span class="pagenum">[155]</span> +clearings. Grimalkin, unlike the men below, had +a bird's-eye view of the place, and just before the +line of beaters came abreast of it a rabbit hopped +out of a runway. His white necklet proclaimed +that he was the Collared Buck. He sat up upon +his curious hare-like tail, and peered through the +bushes. Just then another shot was fired, and a +luckless rabbit close by crawled screaming through +the fern. The Collared Buck made up his mind—he +rolled over limply upon his back and lay still. +The beaters came up and began to whack the +bushes, but he never twitched a whisker, and he +might have escaped notice altogether had not one +man caught sight of his white gorget gleaming in +the grass, and walked over to pick up, as he considered, +the dead rabbit. The Collared one lay like +a stone until a hand was put out to seize him, then +he suddenly leaped sideways and ran for his life. +Bang! bang! bang! he bolted down the whole +line of guns, and each fired as he passed; but +although the shot clipped twigs from the bushes all +round him, he ran on unscathed. Just out of shot +he paused, and then quietly and deliberately crept +down an adjacent burrow, leaving the sportsmen +the poorer of self-respect and +cartridges.</p> + +<div class="p155"> + <div class="splitr" id="p155-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p155-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p155-3"> </div> + +<p>After this the weather<span class="pagenum">[156]</span> +became fine and warm, and the rabbits used +to come out of their burrows to take sun-baths. +Three times Grimalkin saw the Collared Buck +basking outside his hole above the glen, with +his legs sprawled on the dry leaves, and his eyes +blinking blissfully in the heat. Three times did +Grimalkin then attempt to stalk his prey, and +three times did the Buck take alarm, and hop +underground with insulting leisure. The desire to +circumvent the Collared Buck became an obsession +with Grimalkin. He spent hours at a stretch +watching the burrow mouth; all in vain. He often +caught a glimpse of the white collar, or saw the +drooping scut flit into the bushes, but he never +gave chase on these occasions, for he knew well that +in a race he was no match for a rabbit, and that his +skill in hunting depended less upon his legs than +upon his patience. So the Collared Buck fed +nightly in the fields, and arrogantly chiselled his +mark upon the old willow tree which is the trysting +place of the buck rabbits in spring, and upon which +each sets the imprint of his teeth.</p> + +<p>Earlier in the autumn Grimalkin had lived principally +upon the squirrels who squabbled among +the beech-mast, but as the season advanced, Koutchee, +who, though a noisy meddlesome fellow, is +no fool, grew wary, and the suspicion of a barred<span class="pagenum">[157]</span> +tabby tail twitching in covert was sufficient to +send him scuttling up a tree. Henceforth Grimalkin +lived chiefly upon thrushes. The ripening of the +haws brought in hordes of missel-thrushes, redwings, +and blackbirds, who tore at the crimson berries and +littered them over the countryside with the wasteful +profusion of the Feather Folk who take no thought +for the morrow, and then came, full cropped and +drowsy, to roost in Knockdane. At dark Grimalkin +used to creep beneath the bushes which were +weighted down with the sleepy birds, and took his +toll. The redwings were his favourite game, for it +was possible to strike one down silently; whereas +no sooner did he miss a spring at throstle or blackbird +than the whole wood knew of the occurrence. +Creeping in the darkness among the locked laurel +stems, Grimalkin often knew that he was not the +only hunter abroad. Sometimes as a cloud came +over the moon, a blackbird 'spinked' agonizedly, +and then all at once the whole hillside seemed to +spring into rushing whirring life as every bird +within earshot dashed out. There would be dire +confusion for a few minutes until the flock settled +in another thicket, and then the patter of pads +tiptoeing away told that the fox was also hunting +that way that night.</p> + +<p>One evening Grimalkin was prowling on such<span class="pagenum">[158]</span> +an excursion along the edge of the wood. Just in +front of him a deep drain, cut straight through +the hedgebank, opened into the field. This cutting +was a favourite path of all the Fur Folk, and its +muddy bottom was trampled by many feet, from +the splay pugs of the badger to the fairy spoors of +the rats. It was for the latter that Grimalkin +waited, under a fern stub. Famine had gripped +the rats with the rest of the Wood People, and +drove them out to feed on the rotting beech-mast +far from their holes. The blackbirds were arguing +together loudly as they settled down in the laurels +for the night; nevertheless through all the din +Grimalkin detected a distant scurry and patter of +feet. His practised ear soon recognised that the +oncoming steps belonged to a running rabbit, and +just behind he caught the galloping rustle of some +pursuer. Grimalkin the cat feared neither fox +nor dog, and he knew that the smaller folk all +feared him and turned aside from his path; so that, +with a glance to locate a convenient tree in case +of emergency, he remained where he was. The +bushes suddenly parted and out sprang the Collared +Buck. His ears were laid down and his eyes +showed the whites as he glanced behind him. He +came straight as an arrow for the drain; not +until he was almost upon it did he catch sight of<span class="pagenum">[159]</span> +Grimalkin, and at that moment Redpad the fox +came leaping upon his trail. The Collared Buck +saw that he was in a trap. He was yet three yards +from the bank when he jumped, but the force of his +rush was with him and carried him into the drain. +At the same instant the cat's claws tore his flank, but +the smart merely spurred him to further efforts. +He changed feet nimbly, and shot through the hedge +far out into the field beyond. Grimalkin alighted +on the ditch bottom in a smother of dead leaves, +not three feet from the fox's nose. He put his +back against the bank, and his eyes looked ugly as +he breathed a menace. The fox stopped dead, and +they glared eye to eye while one might pant a +score of times. Then the fox dropped his eyes +uneasily. He dared not face the great cat's scimitar +claws in the narrow path, and he slid cautiously back +in his tracks out of striking distance before leaping +into the bushes.</p> + +</div> + +<p>Grimalkin caught a rat and a bird that night, +and at dawn went back to his lair. He licked his +muddy coat dry, and being full fed and comfortable +for the first time for many days, he sang a low song +to himself, which made the little mice, among the +ivy at the cave's mouth, cower and hide. +But by and by the purring ceased, and +Grimalkin, thoughtfully watching the dim<span class="pagenum">[160]</span> +light on the floor, growled softly at the recollection +of the baulked spring in the hedge bottom; and in +his dreams that night—for the Fur Folk often +dream—his claws worked softly as though he had +struck them into the kill.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>After that Grimalkin watched the hedge bottom +for two nights, but the Collared Buck was wary, and +went out to feed by another way. On the third +evening he came again, but a breath of wind +warned him in time of his enemy's presence. This +happened once or twice, and then Grimalkin grew +tired of a fruitless vigil in the damp ditch and laid +other plans.</p> + +<p>One January night Grimalkin came out of his +cave, and stealing across the glen, climbed the +opposite wall. It was dark under the trees, but a +white blur in the shadows guided him to the mouth +of the burrow in the elders. Very very cautiously +he sniffed at the place. All was well. The Buck +had not yet gone out. Grimalkin squatted down +within striking distance, tucked his paws away +cosily in front of him, and waited.</p> + +<div class="p159"> + <div class="splitr" id="p159-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p159-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p159-3"> </div> + +<p>An hour passed—there was a stir in the burrow, +and the Collared Buck crept out, his white throat +a beacon in the starlight. So swiftly that it seemed +as but one movement, Grimalkin took half a dozen<span class="pagenum">[161]</span> +quick steps and leaped, but even as he did so the +big rabbit stamped a sudden alarm. They rolled +over together, Grimalkin bearing down his prey +as a tiger will a deer, but the latter was frenzied +with fear, and in his agony launched a desperate kick +which caught Grimalkin upon the point of the nose. +As he staggered back he felt the rabbit slip from +between his claws. The Collared Buck bounded +away among the elders, stamping an alarm at every +stride, until his dancing white collar disappeared +among the bushes. Grimalkin sat up and wiped +the blood from his face. He realised that another +point had been scored against him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" style="width:20%"> + +<p>An hour later as Grimalkin was passing the well-worn +track to the Sheep Field, dawn was breaking, +and a fine rain began to fall. He followed a path +among the furze bushes, and on turning a corner +caught sight of a rabbit in the grass. He stalked it +scientifically, and from nearer covert looked at it +again. There was no doubt but that it was the +Collared Buck. He was lying prone upon his chest +as though for a sun-bath, and apparently had +noticed nothing amiss. But why should he bask +when rain was falling? Grimalkin was uneasy. +The Fur Folk fear what is unusual; nevertheless +because he was hungry, and his enemy so close, he<span class="pagenum">[162]</span> +sprang. His claws sank deep into the white collar, +but the Collared Buck neither moved nor gasped. +His body was warm and limp, and round his neck, +although Grimalkin never noticed it, was twisted +a wicked strand of brass wire. It never occurred to +Grimalkin to question how his long-sought quarry +had died. He drew himself up and his tail swayed +with triumph. The Collared Buck lay beneath +his claws and old scores were repaid. He began to +play the death-game which the cat kind always +play over the kill. First of all he touched the +rabbit with his paw, daring it to rise up and run +from him; then, as though to make surety doubly +sure, he leaped upon it and struck again. While +there is life in bird or beast they will struggle from +the death-play blindly, but the Collared Buck +lay placidly still with the rain draggling his fur +and his eyes staring. Even his sensitive nose never +quivered; for, although Grimalkin did not know it, +the wire round his neck had long ago choked the +breath in his throat. Next Grimalkin rolled upon +the ground, and drawing the limp form towards +him, licked its fur and caressed it, while he sang a +song praising its strength and cunning, and vaunting +his own superior skill as a hunter. The wrens in +the furze scolded and flew away, for few of the lesser +folk are bold enough to stand by while Grimalkin<span class="pagenum">[163]</span> +plays after the kill. He gambolled to and fro like +a kitten for the joy of feeling the strong muscles +swell in his limbs; and growling, he dared any of +the Wood People to snatch his prey from him. +So absorbed was he in his game that he never heard +a step on the close turf, and only when a blackbird +chuckled an alarm did he look up to see Paddy +Magragh standing watching him, with a bundle of +rabbit snares in his hand. Then all make-believe +was at an end. Should he, Grimalkin, Cat-King of +Knockdane, give up his kill? He growled menacingly, +and dragged at the body, until the peg round +which the wire was twisted, already loosened by +the rabbit's death-struggles, was pulled out of the +ground.</p> + +</div> + +<p>'Drop it, ye thafe,' shouted Paddy Magragh, +flinging his stick at the cat. It missed its mark, and +Grimalkin merely glared as he dragged his kill +towards the bushes a few yards away. Magragh +had lost his cudgel, but he strode up to kick his +antagonist aside with his heavy boots. However, +Grimalkin turned upon him with such a ferocious +snarl that he drew back, for no leather would have +been proof against those teeth. By the time +he had fetched his stick, Grimalkin, tripping over +his burden, had almost gained the bushes. He +gave chase instantly, but Grimalkin had never yet<span class="pagenum">[164]</span> +abandoned his prey, and only trotted the faster. +They reached the bushes simultaneously. The +earthstopper struck out brutally with his stick +and knocked aside Grimalkin, who rolled over and +over half stunned; but then Magragh lost his +advantage, for he rashly stooped and laid hold of +the rabbit. In an instant, with a strangled yell, +Grimalkin's teeth met in his wrist. He sprang +back with an oath as the blood trickled down.</p> + +<p>'Begob! there's something not right wid that +cat,' he muttered fearfully, stepping aside. 'And +the rabbit is a quare one. 'Tis a drop o' holy wather, +not a stick, ye'd want for the likes o' him, I'm +thinking.'</p> + +<div class="p164"> + <div class="split" id="p164-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p164-2"> </div> + +<p>So without further interference Grimalkin returned +to the limp body of the Collared Buck and +dragged it laboriously into the bushes. Once +protected by the kindly furze thorns he crouched +down panting, lest another attack should be +meditated, but it did not come; and presently he +heard the earthstopper's heavy tread on the turf +as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Then indeed Grimalkin's triumph was complete. +He had even outwitted man himself, and robbed +him of his kill. He turned to the rabbit once more, +and played out the death-game to an end before +returning to his lair.</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<a name="p3" id="p3"></a> +<img src="images/p165.jpg" width="425" height="600" alt="GRIMALKIN" title=""> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class="caption">GRIMALKIN</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[165]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="cCHAPTER_IV" id="cCHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">ZOE</p> + +<p>The day on which the first swallow came was +marked with white in Grimalkin's calendar. He +was looking for chaffinches' nests in the big whitethorn +hedge at the back of Ballymore Rectory, when +he suddenly spied a rat. The rat was sitting up +eating a snail, and every now and then it cast a +beady glance around; but Grimalkin slid through +the grass like a snake, and it did not see him. He +had cramped his limbs together for a spring when +all at once something fell like a miniature thunderbolt +from a neighbouring crab-tree, and alighted just +six inches behind the rat, who dropped his supper +and vanished in a twinkling.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-cat.jpg" width="100" height="118" alt="left-cat.jpg" title="left-cat.jpg"> + +<p>Grimalkin was astonished. It was a cat—but +what a cat! She was small, but such was the +length of her fur that she appeared much larger than +she really was. She had a foam-white vest and +socks, but the rest of her coat was deep mouse colour, +and a wide ruffle stood out on either side of her face. +Had it been a tom-cat who had leaped at his game, +Grimalkin's paw would speedily have buffeted his +ears. As it was, he crept forward humbly and tried +to attract her attention. Zoe's back gradually +rose to a semicircle, and when he touched her she<span class="pagenum">[166]</span> +struck him smartly across the face. Certainly love +can work miracles, or else Grimalkin, King-Cat of +Knockdane, would never have suffered such a blow +quietly; but as it was he only passed his tongue +deprecatingly over his whiskers. Zoe eyed him +to see whether he took his punishment with due +humility, and then sat down to wipe her ears with +her fluffy white paw. Presently Grimalkin rolled +over on to his back, rubbing his tabby ears. A +deep rumbling purr vibrated his throat: 'Prr-r-eaow!' +cried Grimalkin, with that subtle inflection +which cats understand to mean: 'You are altogether +desirable.' Zoe crept forward, and Grimalkin, +rearing up his tabby length, rubbed his whiskers +vigorously against her cheek. She too began to purr, +but very softly and evenly; and by and by when she +trotted away, she glanced back to intimate to him +that he might follow if he wished.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-cat.jpg" width="100" height="108" alt="right-cat.jpg" title="right-cat.jpg"> + +<p>After that they often met. Zoe was the cherished +pet of the Rectory, and was consequently +shut up every night; nevertheless she often eluded +her mistress and stole down the whitethorn hedge +where Grimalkin caught cockchafers—a trick learned +from the blackbeetles of his kitchen days. At +first she was reluctant to remain out for long +together. After a little excursion she would pause +and turn back. Instantly Grimalkin would be at<span class="pagenum">[167]</span> +her side imploring her with all feline caresses to +accompany him. He could not understand the +ties of custom which bound her to her human +friends. He had broken them long ago when a +kitten, and was now as truly wild as any of the Fur +Folk in Knockdane. But Zoe and her parents +before her had lived by the fireside and eaten +men's food, and it was more difficult for them to +hear the call of the woods.</p> + +<p>Once for three days she stayed at home; but on +the third evening she looked down the field, and +saw Grimalkin waiting. A little cry rose in her +throat; she dropped out of the window and ran +to him.</p> + +<p>They hunted together until the long sunbeams +were cut off by the hill, and the dew began to fall. +A score of blackbirds piped in Knockdane, and a +corncrake rasped in the meadow. The darkness +fell, and the night peoples—the badgers, bats, and +owls—came out. When the night was half gone, +Zoe's instinct to return to her human friends +awoke, but she was tired, and Grimalkin's presence +was very dear to her. She felt drawn two ways. +Instinct bade her remain in the woods; custom, +parent of instinct, commanded her to return home. +The shadows under the oak trees were full of the +mysterious sights and sounds of the night. A<span class="pagenum">[168]</span> +skylark on the hill believed that he saw the false +dawn, and rose singing to meet it; and a cuckoo in +the valley awoke and fluted drowsily. Out in the +woods the ways of men seem very small and far +away. Grimalkin looked round. 'Prr-r-eaow!' +he cried, which being interpreted is: 'O my love, +the desirable one'; and the cuckoo's voice mingled +with the murmur of the river. Zoe's doubts fled. +She forgot her former life, and all the kindness which +she had always received from man. Grimalkin was +calling and her heart went out to him—Knockdane +was calling and she obeyed it. She followed her +mate to his lair.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>At the beginning of July Zoe left Grimalkin +altogether. Now and then he caught a glimpse of +her, but she always fled from him as though he +had been some dangerous thing, and for many +nights he hunted alone.</p> + +<p>Years before, a south-westerly gale had driven +in from the Atlantic, and ploughed a deep furrow +through the fir grove at the top of Knockdane, +piling the snapped trunks on one another. Nobody +moved them, and they lay there in rotting heaps; +but their fall let in the sunshine and rain to the +earth, and the next summer a multitude of plants +grew up where previously had been nothing but<span class="pagenum">[169]</span> +gloomy firs. Briars ran riot over the decaying +branches, grass grew rank and long, and alders +pushed a way to the air and light. These were +woven into a jungle so dense that only the rabbits +thoroughly knew their way about in it; but the +foxes and cats followed their runways and often +hunted them on their own ground.</p> + +<p>Early one morning Grimalkin went to the +'Jungle.' No dew had fallen for many days, and +the sun rose up a cloudless sky. Grimalkin glided +down a rabbit track, and so into a little clearing +surrounded by walls of thorn and wild rose. Here +lay a tree trunk which had been uprooted by the +storm. Under its roots was a little cavern half +hidden by ivy and broken branches. Grimalkin +jumped upon the trunk, and squatted down to +watch for rabbits and enjoy the morning sunshine. +Presently a bough snapped behind him, and he +turned his head very slightly. His muscles were +tense to spring, when a soft voice of infinite motherliness +thrilled him. 'Purr-r-utchuck!' it said, +which in cat language means: 'Thy mother loves +thee, little love!' Trotting towards the tree came +Zoe. She was thin and her coat looked rough, +but her eyes had a tender glow. Grimalkin watched +her glide into the lair under the ivy, and then he +leaped after her. Carefully concealed from curious<span class="pagenum">[170]</span> +eyes was a little chamber lined with grass bents. +On the ground squeaked and squirmed a heap of +grey and white fur, and encircling it proudly with +her body lay Zoe. She purred softly to her brood, +and licked the tiny round heads thrust forward so +eagerly for a meal. She never noticed Grimalkin +until his shadow darkened the doorway, and then +she sprang up—a very fierce mother—with back +arched. In the woods motherhood for a time +swamps all other feelings; and Zoe now looked upon +her former lover as she would have done upon any +other creature who threatened her kittens.</p> + +<div class="p169"> + <div class="splitr" id="p169-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p169-2"> </div> + +<p>However, Grimalkin had no evil intentions. +He thrust his head into the nursery and touched +Zoe's whiskers; and, although her claws were +drawn back to strike, she suffered the caress. One +of the kittens, mewing plaintively, crawled to +Grimalkin, and thrust its minute pink nose into +his side. Grimalkin stood frozen with horror for +a moment, glaring at his son, then with a hiss of +indignation he leaped into the bushes and fled. +Henceforth he avoided the old fir tree, although +he often met Zoe elsewhere.</p> + +<p>That summer was long remembered in the +countryside as 'The year of the great drought.' +No dew or rain fell, and the whole land leaped and +quivered in the heat all day long. The pools and<span class="pagenum">[171]</span> +brooks dwindled, leaving cracked patches of mud +to show where they had been. Brooding birds upon +the nest gaped with thirst, but dared not leave +their eggs to seek the distant river. For the +Fur Folk in Knockdane there was only one little +trickle of tepid water left; and all day long it was +crowded with thirsty birds who struggled with +one another for room to drink and bathe. It was +hard work for Zoe in these days, for she had to hunt +for five besides herself. She grew very thin; but +as the kittens throve she did not spare herself, for +that is the way of mothers, human and furred.</p> + +<p>One blazing noon she left her family for a little +while, and was sitting with Grimalkin in a hawthorn +some little way from the 'Jungle.' Their attention +was attracted by the thud of footsteps, and they +saw Paddy Magragh the earthstopper. He had +paused to draw his pipe from his pocket and light +it. The cats watched intently lest he should +discover them, but he threw away the match and +passed on.</p> + +<p>By and by Grimalkin looked down the path +and saw what looked like a row of orange crocus +flowers, which grew up in a moment and died down, +leaving the ground black behind them. The cats +came down from the tree, and at the first whiff of +the burnt grass Zoe's back rose. She knew that<span class="pagenum">[172]</span> +smell better than did Grimalkin, for she was more +accustomed to the ways of men, and had sat by the +fireside; but there the flames had been caged behind +iron bars—here in the free woods they had it all +their own way. Grimalkin growled, and then, +stealthily, as though he had sighted a rabbit snare, +he slipped into the bushes and glided away. Zoe +stood there longer, for although she hated and feared +the fire, yet it was less strange to her than to her +mate.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="p173"> + <div class="splitr" id="p173-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p173-2"> </div> + +<p>The flames crept along until they came to a large +tuft of grass, as dry as tinder. There was a sudden +flare and the grass was gone; but the topmost +tongue licked a bramble bush, and in an instant it +was in a blaze. At night a fire puts on a certain +majesty with which to cloak its terrors; but by +day it has nothing to redeem its native fierceness. +The brushwood was parched with the drought and +the flames roared up the dry stems.</p> + +<p>Did some kind angel stoop and whisper a word +of warning to Zoe? She suddenly turned and +ran to the 'Jungle,' which was not very far +away. The kittens were hungry and begged a +meal, but she disregarded them, and, picking +up the youngest, set off at a steady pace across +Knockdane. The woods were quite silent but for +the song of the birds. Close to the nursery an old<span class="pagenum">[173]</span> +blackbird was feeding a brood of fledglings, and a +hedgehog nosed along the path. Above the tree +tops a faint smoke rose, quivering in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>Zoe trotted away with her head up, carrying the +kitten very carefully lest her teeth should lacerate +its tender skin. She crossed Knockdane and sought +the open country, for she mistrusted every tree and +thicket since she knew what she had left in the +woods behind. She found an empty rabbit hole, +laid the kitten inside, and cantered back to Knockdane; +but it was more than half a mile away, and +by the time she reached it, little white ashes were +floating over the 'Jungle' like snowflakes, and the +fire was singing merrily to itself. Nevertheless a +wide path separated it from where the kittens lay, +and so far the danger did not seem so very pressing.</p> + +<p>Zoe picked up a second youngster and carried +it off. As she set her face towards Knockdane for +the second time she saw that a thick smoke was +rolling up and reddening the sun. The country +lay still in the heat haze. As yet no one seemed to +have noticed anything unusual on the hill, for +the valley was sparsely populated, and most people +were enjoying a siesta. When Zoe reached the +'Jungle' she saw a frightened rabbit scudding away. +The fire was raging in the saplings near and licking +away the brushwood with a fierce hiss. A charred<span class="pagenum">[174]</span> +space, littered with red embers, lay in a circle of fire +which was encroaching ever further and further +into the wood. The laurels crackled as the heat +changed them to molten gold and ruby before +dropping them into the flames. There was no +time to be lost. Already blazing fragments were +dropping from the tree into the dead grass at the +edge of the 'Jungle,' and the brushwood burned like +tinder when kindled.</p> + +<p>Zoe took up her third kitten, and this time she +ran faster than before. The old blackbird was +croaking to her brood, beseeching them to use +their wings to escape, but they only gaped foolishly +for more worms. The hedgehog was waddling +through the grass as fast as his short legs would +permit. Zoe easily overtook and passed him, but +the kittens were heavy and the day very hot. The +sun came through the leaves, and cast chequered +patterns on the path. The woods were very still, +but for the rush and crackle of the fire.</p> + +</div> + +<p>For the third time Zoe toiled back up the hill. +The air seemed hotter and heavier than ever, and +smoke hung among the trees. Suddenly she came +upon the vanguard of the fire. It had leaped the +path and was creeping into the 'Jungle' with a +roar. Alder, fir branch, and briar in turn flared up +and fell before it, and the yellow flames streamed<span class="pagenum">[175]</span> +skywards, dissolving into sparks and smoke. Behind +lay utter desolation. The charred tree-trunks +stood up among the surrounding blackness, and +the leaves which the fire could not reach hung +blistered from their twigs. The fire was not two +hundred yards away from the fir tree. It was to be +a race—Zoe against the flames; but the former had +a mile to travel, and a kitten to carry into the bargain.</p> + +<p>Her eyes smarted from the smoke and she was +dizzy with fatigue, but she gallantly took up her +fourth baby, and ran for its life. She caught a +glimpse of some men hastening up the hill, but did +not heed them. She laid her kitten with the rest +of the litter, and made the best of her way back +to Knockdane.</p> + +<p>The 'Jungle' was crowned with flames. Everything +was thickly peppered with ashes and the +sun shone luridly through the smoke. For a +moment Zoe was utterly at a loss—then she limped +up the accustomed path towards the fir tree. +Once or twice she trod on a burning cinder, and +the heat made her whiskers shrivel; but she kept +on bravely for the sake of the baby in the pine-tree +nursery.</p> + +<p>She darted to the nest. There was just half a +minute to spare before the fire would sweep up to +the tree. The earth was burning hot, and already<span class="pagenum">[176]</span> +the ivy leaves were blistering. She plunged into the +hole and groped desperately for her treasure. +The moments flew by—she could not find it. Her +eyes were accustomed to see in the gloom, but this +darkness was impenetrable. Ah! at last she +touched the mewing kitten, and gripping it turned +to fly. Outside she shrank back, for she was met +by a veritable wall of flame. The fir tree was surrounded +by fire, for the grass was blazing, and +the bushes were kindling in every direction. There +was only one place through which escape could be +made—where the burning zone was narrowest. +Zoe gripped the kitten tighter, laid back her ears, +closed her eyes, and leaped. For one fierce moment +the fire actually licked her body, and then she +dropped safely on the ashes beyond. Her whiskers +were gone, her beautiful ruffle had shrivelled away, +her coat was black with ashes; but the kitten for +whom she had dared so much was safe. She crawled +wearily away, dragging it after her, while the fire +leaped and danced round the old fir tree.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>At sunset, as Grimalkin prowled through the +fields at the back of the church (for he avoided the +woods while that mysterious bright power hunted +there) he saw Zoe, again carrying a singed kitten.<span class="pagenum">[177]</span> +In the hour of danger old ties had reasserted themselves. +She was going back to man, for with all his +ignorance he had treated her better than the wild +had done, and already four of the kittens lay in the +Rectory hayloft.</p> + +<div class="p177"> + <div class="splitr" id="p177-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p177-2"> </div> + +<p>She put up her back when she saw Grimalkin, +but he made no attempt to stop her, and only trotted +behind with a puzzled air. They came to the gate +of the Rectory yard, and Zoe crawled underneath; +but Grimalkin heard the scorched woods calling to +him, and he could not follow, for he hated the +abodes of men. 'Meaow!' he cried, but Zoe took no +notice. At that moment a girl came into the yard, +and stopped short in surprise: 'Why, Zoe, my pet!' +she cried joyfully. Zoe, trained in caution by weeks +of woodland life, climbed into the hayloft. The +girl knew better than to follow her there, but +presently she came back bearing a saucer of milk +for the parched throat, and laid it down outside. +Grimalkin turned and crept away.</p> + +<p>That night the drought broke, and a thunderstorm +burst over Knockdane. The rain poured +in torrents and doused out the fire completely. But +for many months there was a wide black clearing +where the 'Jungle' had been; and a charred log in +the middle was all that was left of Zoe's nursery.</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> +<p class="spacer"> </p> +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[178]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="cCHAPTER_V" id="cCHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">WHERE THE BATTLE IS TO THE STRONG</p> + +<p>In March the nights are long and winds are cold; +food is scarce, yet hunters must live.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-cat.jpg" width="100" height="118" alt="left-cat.jpg" title="left-cat.jpg"> + +<p>Grimalkin passed down the palings at the woodside, +and stole on noiseless feet among the grass-tufts +under the stormy dawn.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-cat.jpg" width="100" height="108" alt="right-cat.jpg" title="right-cat.jpg"> + +<p>Four summers have passed over Grimalkin's +head since we saw him last; four years of uninterrupted +supremacy in the woods. His own kind +feared him; the lesser Fur Folk fled from him; the +gamekeeper hated him. He was the patriarch of +his race, a Prince among his people. But these +four years, while raising Grimalkin to the height +of his fame, had taken their toll. His coat already +showed a suspicion of grey along the spine and +jowl; his eyes were keen as ever, but many kills had +blunted the mighty claws and teeth; and his whiskers +had fallen in. Nevertheless the Spring Longing +danced as gladsomely in his blood as when he had +been a kitten.</p> + +<p>March mornings are stormy. The wind woke +at daybreak and sighed up the valley. The trees +of Knockdane swept a stately arpeggio in answer +as the steely south-easter roared louder through +the organ pipe of the woods, and bent the tasselled<span class="pagenum">[179]</span> +larch on which the storm-cock chanted to the +celandines.</p> + +<p>The sunrise was pale and watery, fitful gusts +shook the bushes. Grimalkin's thoughts ran on +rabbits—the rabbits always come out on the Long +Bank first of all. He squatted under a briar brake, +tucked his paws away cosily before him, and +watched.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A rustle among the brambles, a stir on the dead +leaves. Grimalkin's muscles stiffened, and his +whiskers twitched. He crouched flat, then slid +forward sinuously, paw after paw. Never yet had +he failed in his spring on a March rabbit. His eye +dilated and his muscles swelled with the thought +of victory. Then came the rub. The quarry, +nervously nibbling at the open grass, was outside +striking distance. A young cat might have risked +a spring and failure. Grimalkin was too old a +hunter, and sat down to wait.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Again the grasses stirred, and green eyes, keen +and deadly, were framed in the waving stems. The +hunter knew them well. A reproduction of his own, +they belonged to his great-grandson, a worthy +whose well-groomed face betrayed all feline vices.</p> + +<p>The newcomer licked his lips, his face took a smug<span class="pagenum">[180]</span> +complacent expression. He also scrutinised the +rabbit—he also would wait. If there should be a +battle, well and good—let the strongest win. Grimalkin +made no sign save that he bared his teeth +in a silent snarl of concentrated hate; but hot +anger boiled within him, for it is one of the laws of +the Fur Folk, that if one beast hunts the quarry of +another of the same kind, the latter may kill him +if he will. But never before had another cat dared +to stalk Grimalkin's game, or beard him to his face. +It was intolerable, and he half turned, and in so +doing betrayed himself. The rabbit is the wariest +of Wood Folk. If he were not so he would have died +out centuries ago. He sat up with alert ears, and +lilted suspiciously to a distance. The hunters saw +that their game had disappointed them, but they +scarcely heeded it. They watched one another for +a minute with slowly undulating tail-tips. Then +very evenly and softly from the patriarch's throat +rose the challenge of Clan Cattus: 'mi-ee-awl.' +His grandson answered, flinging back the +cry loudly and defiantly, interlarding it +with those insults of which a tom-cat is +such an unrivalled master.</p> + +<div class="p180"> + <div class="split" id="p180-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p180-2"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p180-3"> </div> + +<p>The heroes circled round one +another, and then closed, striking +out tufts of fur until the ground was<span class="pagenum">[181]</span> +sprinkled with them. They buffeted one another +until they were utterly exhausted, and then drew +back to recover before renewing the attack. Grimalkin +strained every sinew to teach this upstart +the respect due to his position and years, but—try +as he would—not a blow went home. Feint, counterfeint, +undercut and smashing downward stroke, +all were parried, and Grimalkin sank down breathless +after every round with blood trickling from his +ears. A new sensation assailed him—his limbs +seemed numb and feeble. He was weary. It +was not now revenge for which he sought—he +was struggling despairingly for the right to live. +His blows grew more feeble, and foam hung on his +jaws. Now was the time for the superiority of +young blood to tell. Down came the iron paw, +armed with the strong curved claws, upon the +veteran's skull. Grimalkin yelled and leaped back +as a hot red curtain fell before his sight. Baffled +and half stunned, he crept away, cowed, into the +bramble covert.</p> + +<p>The victor sat up and licked his wounds. Henceforth +there was a new king for the cat-folk in +Knockdane.</p> + +<hr class="tb" style="width:20%"> + +<p>The day was well begun. Why did the throstle +pipe overhead? Why did the daffodils dance in<span class="pagenum">[182]</span> +the breeze? Why was the Spring Longing so +insolently apparent in every bud and bough, and +why did they flaunt it so heartlessly in his face? +Could they restore a darkened eye, or rejuvenate +weakened limbs? Thus might have mused Grimalkin +of Knockdane, who was king there no more. +It had come at last, a cold hand which grips man +and beast alike, certain and irremediable. <i>Old Age</i> +was stealing fast behind him. And old age means +more to the Fur Folk than to human beings. When +their strength once declines ever so slightly, they +must go to the wall to make room for stronger +hunters. They are the lawful prey of any who +can take them. If by any chance they escape +death by their fellows, nothing remains but Starvation—a +slower agony.</p> + +<p>Grimalkin could not look into the future and +see what Fate had in store for him, but perhaps +he was all the happier for it. Mortified and baffled +as he was at his defeat, he did not realise that a day +would come when he must pass by the full-grown +buck rabbit for the young and sickly, or later on +prey on grass-mice which he now disdained. But +this day was still far off. Loud called the March +wind overhead. Grimalkin rose, and ceased to try +and tear the darkness from his blinded eye. He +was hungry, and his hunter's skill still remained to<span class="pagenum">[183]</span> +him. What he lacked in strength and endurance +must be compensated for by cunning. He crept +from his hiding-place, and stole silently down the +path to his hunting grounds.</p> + +<p>So passes Grimalkin from this tale, through the +grey trees, into the depths of the mysterious woods, +where the race is only to the swift and the battle to +the strong, and about which man can know nothing +certainly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p183.jpg" width="400" height="355" alt="p183.jpg" title="p183.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum">[186]</span></p> + +<h2>THE BIOGRAPHY OF STUBBS THE BADGER</h2> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="dCHAPTER_I" id="dCHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[184]</span></p> + +<p class="h3">THE TWILIGHT HUNTERS</p> + +<div class="p186"> + <div class="split" id="p186-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p186-2"> </div> + +<p>The spoor was impressed deeply in the muddy +ground where a stream ran by the path. The +broad toes were well defined, and the punctures of +the great digging claws had cut the clay. 'There's +badgers in the auld earth again,' said Paddy +Magragh, standing up.</p> + +<p>It was a mild evening in March, with a grey +sky streaked with faint reflections of the unseen +sunset. Paddy turned to the right, up a track +used more often by the Fur Folk than by man. +There was a shallow pit here, and under the brim +opened the mouth of a big burrow. Generations of +persevering diggers had lived and died there, and +each had added his quota to the mound outside the +hole, and excavated yet another chamber among +the honeycomb of galleries tunnelled into the hill.<span class="pagenum">[187]</span> +However, for some years, the 'earth' had been +empty, and the dead leaves had drifted thickly +against the entrance. The rabbits had dug burrows +about the place; and after a hard-pressed fox had +taken refuge there, two winters before, Magragh +himself had built up the 'set' with stones and +earth, so strongly that fox-pads could not open it. +Now, however, the barricade was scraped away, +and leaves and grass littered the mound outside. +Magragh looked up at the fading sky and turned +homewards, but after a few steps he returned. +Had Fate set him in another sphere, he might have +been a great naturalist. As it was, although he had +a profound knowledge of those of the Wild Folk +who furnished 'shpoort' for himself and his fellow +men, of the lesser breeds he was almost entirely +ignorant. Nevertheless, the spirit of the true +naturalist slept in him, unsuspected, and to-night, +for once in a way, it awoke. He would not admit +to himself that he desired to see the inmates of this +burrow without chance of 'shpoort' or slaughter, +but muttered shamefacedly: 'Shure, I'll watch +a bit see would the craythurs come out to-night.' +Those who spend much time alone under the free +sky acquire this habit of soliloquy; indeed, after +a while, each finds himself his own best company.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-badger.jpg" width="100" height="142" alt="left-badger.jpg" title="left-badger.jpg"> + +<p>Paddy Magragh sat down under a tree, and<span class="pagenum">[188]</span> +watched the light fade from the surrounding bushes. +The bats hawked to and fro, and a blackbird 'chink-chinked' +in notes like the dripping of water. A +rabbit came out of a hole hard by with his scut +buttoned down, and slid away to feed, so softly that +his footsteps never stirred the leaves; but he did +not see Paddy Magragh, who, in his tattered coat +and broken boots, looked as shapeless and as +knotted as the old stump against which he leaned. +The woods were quite quiet but for the trickling +of the little stream near at hand, and even the +nibbling of the rabbit in the brambles was plainly +audible.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-badger.jpg" width="100" height="114" alt="right-badger.jpg" title="right-badger.jpg"> + +<p>When it was so dark that the shrews could only +be located by their voices as they squabbled in the +dead leaves, there came a rustle at the 'earth' +mouth, and a striped snout was poked out. After +the snout slid a long grey body—a shadow among +the shadows—humped and clumsy, yet so silent +that not a twig snapped under the heavy pads. +Magragh sat with his hands clasped over his 'ash-plant.' +The badger snuffed suspiciously, then +waddled off by a little, well-worn path. A minute +or two afterwards, from the stream, could be heard +the sound of water lapped down a thirsty throat. +Paddy was wise. He sat for another ten minutes. +The silence grew more tense and the darkness<span class="pagenum">[189]</span> +deeper. Then, without any warning, a badger, +larger than the last, scurried across the pit so quickly +that Magragh's old eyes had barely caught sight +of him before he vanished in the shadows.</p> + +<p>'A pair o' thim,' said the old man, hobbling +homewards.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="p189"> + <div class="splitr" id="p189-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p189-2"> </div> + +<p>A week later he waited there again; waited +until the woodcock had settled down to feed, and +the light was almost gone, leaving the pit so dark +that his eyes saw nothing when his ears caught +the rustle of a single hunter turning up the hill +from the 'earth.'</p> + +<p>'There's cubs wid'in,' opined Paddy Magragh.</p> + +<hr class="tb" style="width:20%"> + +<p>Tunnelled ten yards into the hillside, up a narrow +gallery to the right, and then down another, dug +at right angles to avoid a rock proof against even +a badger's claws, was the nursery; and here the +cubs were born at the end of March. If Mother +Badger had been wary before, she now increased +her caution to an unheard-of degree. Even the +distant shuffle of her mate's footsteps, as he went +out to feed, was sufficient to rouse her to a rumbling +growl. She herself never stirred outside the 'earth' +until after midnight, and, even then, the 'wick-wick' +of a wakeful throstle set her heart thudding.</p> + +<p>It was the middle of April before Mother Badger<span class="pagenum">[190]</span> +took her cubs into the woods. She chose a starlit +night—the badgers love the stars better than the +moon—and led them to the burrow mouth. They +crawled up the mound outside, and then flopped +down to rest; for their longest journey hitherto had +been across their nursery, and their short legs +soon grew weary. Although the alternate tracts +of their pied snouts were well defined, the black +was washed over with chocolate colour; otherwise +they were exact replicas of their parents.</p> + +<p>Mother Badger did not dare to lead them far +afield that night. As it was, once or twice she took +alarm and hustled them underground. However, +the cubs did not trouble about the limitations of +their bounds. The sand at the burrow mouth was +light and dry, and they delightedly thrust their +paws into it and scattered it about, just as children +at the seaside dabble their feet in the water. The +biggest cub found a rabbit scrape, and, thrusting +in his nose, dug lustily. Presently one of his sisters +came pushing up and they fought viciously, rolling +over and over to the bottom of the mound, with +locked claws. This roused Mother Badger, who +lay above the 'earth' with one eye on her cubs +and the other upon the woods. She waddled +down and cuffed them; then brought them back, +and licked and fed them tenderly. Long before +<span class="pagenum">[191]</span>dawn she took them below ground again; even +before Father Badger had returned home, grunting, +to his solitary dormitory.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;"> +<a name="p4" id="p4"></a> +<img src="images/p190.jpg" width="432" height="600" alt="HOMEWARD BOUND" title=""> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class="caption">HOMEWARD BOUND</p> + +<p>The next night, however, they went as far as the +Hollow Field. Mother went first, and the cubs, +their eyes fixed upon her shaggy, bumping quarters, +followed her closely in single file. Her feet made no +sound; but now and then one of the little ones, less +used to tread where the least rustle aroused the +whole woodside, snapped a twig. That was their +first real hunting. Last night by the 'earth' had +merely been play, but now they learned the science +of smells, for a badger relies very greatly upon his +nose. They learned that, as the night wore on, +the scent grew stronger or fainter according to the +dew-fall and the wind and the state of the ground, +and to what different smells belonged. A strong +taint blew aslant the hedge—that was fox. Mother +Badger sampled it scientifically, and the cubs +dutifully followed her example. The rabbit trails +intersected one another in a labyrinth, but the +badger has no dealings with grown rabbits, and +they passed these by. Every tree and herb and +bird and beast has its own particular odour, and, +as there is no directory of scent in the woods but +that which each of the Fur Folk compiles for himself, +the little badgers had to learn each separately.<span class="pagenum">[192]</span></p> + +<p>Thus, follow-my-leader-wise, they entered the +Hollow Field, and Mother Badger sought a likely +spot where the babies might receive a first lesson in +beetle-hunting. She dug up the turf, and grunted +for her family to turn over the scrapings. He who +nosed deepest obtained the morsel—a dor-beetle, +well-flavoured, and devoured with gusto with +the condiment of Nature's providing.</p> + +<div class="p192"> + <div class="split" id="p192-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p192-2"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p192-3"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p192-4"> </div> + +<p>Presently, the Mother Badger craned her long +neck, and her little eyes twinkled. She had winded +something else which would afford a very good +object-lesson, besides supper, for the cubs. Each +little one tiptoed up and sniffed in turn: it was +an unknown smell, but good—decidedly good. +'Hunt it!' grunted Mother Badger, as plainly as +grunt could speak. Listening, they heard needlets +of sound, and the ghost of a rustle, as though some +tiny thing thrust the grass-blades aside. The eldest +cub went first. He located it, as he thought exactly, +and snapped gingerly. He caught a mouthful of +grass only, and the rest had no better fortune. +Mother Badger saw that she must assist, or +else her pupils would go supperless. +She thrust in her snout, drew out +a mouse, and dropped it before +them. The cubs rushed +in helter-skelter, and the<span class="pagenum">[193]</span> +eldest presently pushed his way out of the scrimmage +with the rest of his brothers and sisters tugging and +snatching at the mouse which dangled from his +mouth. He tore it to pieces, growling, and the others +kept at a safe distance, for he was the biggest and +strongest of the litter. After this they turned down +the field to the pool in the middle, and here Mother +Badger showed them another game. On the bank +the meadow-sweet grew rankly, and hearing the +familiar 'plop-plop' of a frog in the dew-soaked +herbage, she set the example of chasing it. The +cubs grew eager, and hunted with little squeaks +and snorts of excitement. Frog was better than +mouse, for it could not run from them so silently. +Now and then there was a splash as some amphibian, +more lucky than his fellows, dived through the +crowfoots into the pond. When this occurred the +cubs were puzzled—water was a mystery to them—but +another frog was soon afoot, and the chase +began again.</p> + +<p>Thus, night by night, they learned field-craft, +and gradually grew to know the geography of the +woods, with every pool and thicket and pathway.</p> + +<p>At the top of Knockdane there are three or four +acres, which are so rock-encumbered, and so overgrown +with heather and bracken, that an occasional +broken-topped fir or oak sapling is the only tree<span class="pagenum">[194]</span> +which will grow there. Here and there a narrow +path twists through the fern, and the industrious +rabbit people, who live among the rocks, keep the +grass on those spots close and green. Above this, +the hill grows steeper till it meets a grey crag which +drops sheer down from the fir wood, whose brow, +shaggy with gorse and ling, overhangs the place. +The Fur Folk all visit this wilderness. The rabbits +and squirrels love it, because the grass and fir-cones +there are good, and the blood-hunters follow them +thither. There the badgers went one evening at +sunset, and feasted on the great worms which were +tempted out by the coolness of the night, and on the +pignuts in the clearings. After their surfeit the cubs +could scarcely waddle among the bracken, for their +tight little bodies brushed the stems on either side. +Under the crag they stopped to drink, where the +water dripped from the height above; and as five +badgers guzzling in the mud made much commotion +and splashing, Mother Badger never heard the +thud of approaching feet until they were almost +on the top of her party. She grunted of danger, +imminent and serious, and gathered her cubs +together. Dinny Purcell had made a short-cut +through Knockdane, on his way home from a +meeting of the local branch of the Gaelic League +at Whelan's 'public'; and, as the proceedings had<span class="pagenum">[195]</span> +terminated agreeably with some toasts to the success +of the League, Dinny felt valiant enough to defy any +number of ghosts. Mother Badger stood on the +other side of the little marsh, and growled thunderously; +but Dinny did not hear, and stumbling and +cursing, knee-deep in mud, came on. The cubs +glided into the fern, but the old badger stood her +ground. She had never met her match where +strength was concerned, therefore she did not +trouble to use her teeth, but set her snout against +the intruder's legs and shoved.</p> + +<p>'Holy Mother—it's the divil,' hiccoughed +Dinny Purcell, crossing himself; and he tried to run +faster, but Mother Badger growled and thrust again.</p> + +<p>'Give over,' muttered Dinny, fuddled with drink, +and striking out timorously with his stick, he +thwacked Mother Badger's shaggy coat, and thereby +incited her to charge again. Dinny would gladly +have taken to his heels, but as his feet were stuck +fast in the mud it was impossible; and sobered by +superstitious fears, he remembered his match-box, +and fumbled for it. Mother Badger was normally +placid and slow to wrath, but this man's presence +so near to her cubs angered her. She caught the +top of his boot—it was well for Dinny that her +fangs missed his leg—and bit it. Just then he +<span class="pagenum">[196]</span>found his matches, and struck one. It was hot—bright—pungent, +such as she had never winded +before. She backed hastily, but as what a badger +has seized that will he hold as long as there is breath +in him, she ripped the boot from top to sole. Dinny +yelled, and dropping the match, which fell sputtering +into a puddle, he swung himself on to an adjacent +rock and tucked up his legs. 'It's the divil, an' +he runnin' like a pig,' he groaned.</p> + +<p>But Mother Badger had no mind to fight for +fighting's sake. Had she not feared for her cubs, +she would have fled at once from a creature who +could summon that hot, bright mystery at will. She +withdrew cautiously in her tracks, and one by one +her cubs followed her from rock or heather tuft +where each lay. Once in the darkness, beyond the +reek of whisky and the dreaded voice of man, they +breathed more freely; and they bumped along in +single file down to the beech and bramble woods +which lie by the Hollow Field, and which from +bud-time to leaf-fall are seldom visited by men.</p> + +<p>But, from that day to this, Dinny Purcell swears +that the devil met him that night in Knockdane, +in token of which he shows his split boot-leather; +and for every time of telling, the devil increases so +much in size and ferocity.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Towards the end of May the cubs were weaned,<span class="pagenum">[197]</span> +and henceforth they hunted less with their parents, +and more often alone, or in couples. In this litter +of four there were two sows and two boars, of which +one was the little badger who has hitherto been +referred to as the 'eldest cub,' but because his legs +and likewise his snout were short and stumpy, even +for a badger, he was afterwards known in Knockdane +as Stubbs. It is he with whom this history deals.</p> + +<p>The young ones opened the other galleries of +the old 'earth,' and slept in dormitories away from +the nursery. But in June, when the nights were +short, and the badgers sometimes went hunting +before the sun was well set, and stayed out until the +dawn had broken over the hills, now and then it +happened that morning overtook one of the family +far from home, and, blinded by the early sunshine, +he was obliged to seek some hide-up for the day.</p> + +<div class="p197"> + <div class="splitr" id="p197-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p197-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p197-3"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p197-4"> </div> + +<p>By August, Stubbs was almost full-grown, and +his knowledge of field-craft was profound. He +could detect a nest of young rabbits hidden any +distance underground, and once he had located +the place, no power on earth could hinder him from +digging them out. He would work all +night, dislodging stones and shovelling +earth, if at the end there +was a chance of a meal of +rabbits. If, during<span class="pagenum">[198]</span> +his task, the unfortunate doe-rabbit came home, +he paid no attention to her. She might stamp +as much as she pleased at the stumpy tail protruding +from her nursery—nothing would turn +Stubbs aside from his purpose. He could also +locate truffles six inches underground—the big +knobby ones which grow under oak trees, and the +little potato-like ones which smell so strong, and are +found under laurels in Knockdane. Besides this, he +could wind a man a quarter of a mile away, and he +knew every 'shore' and rock and tree in Knockdane.</p> + +<p>The badger's daily round is more monotonous +than those of most of the Fur Folk. He is too large +greatly to fear any other beast, and he is so wary +that he seldom comes in collision with man. Year in, +year out, from spring to autumn, autumn to spring, +his comings and goings follow the set rules of his +ancestors. Now and again, however, a badger is born +to a more stirring career, and such a one was Stubbs.</p> + +<p>In September the badgers lived well, and their +sides grew sleek and round. They dug up the +bykes of the orange-bellied bumble-bees, regardless +of their stings, and guzzled over the sticky sweetness +of the honeycomb. Later they visited the crab-trees, +and spent many a blissful hour scrunching the sour +pippins, and dropping the pieces about the grass, +for the badger is an untidy feeder.<span class="pagenum">[199]</span></p> + +<p>At the end of the month the 'earth' was littered +down in preparation for the winter's Big Sleep. +The whole family were still living under one roof, so +to speak, but as they mostly occupied galleries +far apart, it was almost more like a hotel. More +than half a badger's life is spent in sleep—profound, +blissful sleep, in a world of great silences and deep +shadows. In October came a night with frost nip +in the air, and a damp mist. Stubbs felt the chill in +his bones as he crept to the entrance of the 'earth'; +nevertheless, because he was hungry, he went out. +Shortly afterwards his brother came up, snuffed the +wind, stretched himself and yawned—then, because +he was sleepy, and the night undesirable, he +waddled back again and slept the clock round. +The next night the rest did likewise—why hunt when +they were not hungry? There are few winter nights +in Knockdane that are not either cold or wet, and +such nights the badgers eschewed. Now and again +they went out for a few hours, but in the small hours +when the morning frost set the grass in the meadows +crackling with rime, they grunted disgustedly and +returned to bed.</p> + +<p>The whole family—parents and young ones—slept +through December without ever stirring out, for +snow was on the ground most of the month; but +in January I know not what mysterious influence,<span class="pagenum">[200]</span> +creeping underground, knocked at the closed doors +of the badgers' brains, and told them that the frost +was gone and the night was warm. Stubbs woke +first, and groped his way out. The air was mild and +damp, and the roar of the river was borne to him +as, rain-laden, it plunged over the weir. The dead +leaves were moist and limp, and overhead a foggy +moon peered through the bare trees. He trotted +stiffly down the woods and visited his old haunts, +but, go where he would, he could find nothing to eat +but a few sodden mushrooms. An hour later he +returned, wet and chilled, and lay down in his dormitory +to suck his paws meditatively, until sleep +overtook him again. His head dropped on his forepads, +and, with a sigh, he fell into a slumber which +lasted, with few waking hours, until the Spring +Longing came to the woods, and roused him with +the rest of the Fur Folk.</p> + +<p>Spring nights are stormy with driving rain-showers, +but under the trees the Fur Folk are +sheltered from the blustering winds, and come and +go from dusk to dawn; for the day on which the +first throstle sings is the beginning of the new year +in the woods.</p> + +<p>The badgers came out with the rest, but they +were lean with long fasting, and their toes were +tender with much drowsy sucking. Stubbs went<span class="pagenum">[201]</span> +through the elder trees, whose buds were growing +big and purple, and he dug up and ate the wild +arum tubers. They were very bitter and burning +to taste, but a badger's palate is not a delicate one, +and he devoured them greedily. Besides, there +was nothing else left to eat in the woods, for, during +the recent famine time, they had been patrolled +up and down by bird and beast.</p> + +<p>In March, Mother Badger had another litter of +cubs in the old nursery, but there were fewer grown +badgers in the 'earth' at this time, for the younger +boar cub of the previous season had been 'stopped' +out one February night, and had never come home +again—perhaps the Carkenny hounds knew why. +Stubbs lived a bachelor life by himself at one end of +the 'earth.' Even now he was scarcely thoroughly +awake after his long sleep, and on any cold or +wet night he lay abed. By April, however, he felt +better, and put on flesh; and it was then that he +finally broke with his family. One night he went +round by the Heronry where grew Father Badger's +'Claw-Clapping' tree, a young wych-elm. Father +Badger used to resort thither to polish his long +digging claws and to scratch himself, and +his feet had patted down a +little track round the roots. +Stubbs went up to the<span class="pagenum">[202]</span> +sapling, and began, with great satisfaction, to chisel +off strips of bark, for he was proud of his claws. +He grunted contentedly, and rubbed his shaggy +sides up and down—and, the next minute, heavy +as he was, he was sent flying head over heels; for +Father Badger had come along, and was wroth +to find his place usurped. For the first time he +realised that, during the Big Sleep, the cub +had become a full-grown badger almost as strong +as himself. Therefore he challenged; and it was +a sign that Stubbs had arrived at adult badger +estate that he accepted his father's challenge. +They ran at one another, growling ferociously, but +they did not use their teeth, only thrust with their +snouts; for it is the law of the Fur Folk that two +of a kind shall not fight to the death, and it is a law +that is not often broken. However, Father Badger +was the older and the heavier, and, although a year +later Stubbs would have been fully his match, he +drove his son away. After that Stubbs did not return +to the 'earth' among the elder trees, but led a +nomadic life in the woods for some weeks, sleeping +in a dry drain or old rabbit-hole, and at night wandering +miles abroad over the countryside. In those +days there was a drouth in Knockdane, and the +streams dried up. It was serious for the badger +people, for they were often obliged to search very<span class="pagenum">[203]</span> +far afield for water. Sometimes a shower fell, but +never enough to fill the springs. At such times the +badgers resorted to a hollow in a path, along which +horses had passed in winter when the mud was +deep. Now, after a shower, each hoof-mark was a +clay goblet of water, and the badgers' thirsty red +tongues used to lick out the contents gratefully.</p> + +</div> + +<p>One close night in May, Stubbs went down to +the Great White House, where the men live. The +Great White House stands on a little oasis of open +grass, but the woods come up close round, and the +rabbits trespass under the very windows. In the field +round, the men have planted roots which are new +to badger palates, and some of them are very good. +Stubbs sampled them all. Some were narcissus +and hyacinth, evil-tasting and slimy, and he threw +them aside. Others, the crocus and tulip, were +better; but best of all were the snowdrops, which +were sweet and nutty, and of these Stubbs ate all +he could find. At last he ventured quite close to the +walls of the house. Faint notes of music beat from +one of the windows, and these made Stubbs raise +his head suspiciously. All at once it seemed that +eyes were watching him from the shadow to his +leeward side—mysterious eyes, eager yet timid. He +grunted, and dug up another bulb, but the sensation +of being watched grew stronger. Instinctively<span class="pagenum">[204]</span> +he knew that it was not an enemy who spied +upon him thus—rather the contrary. He could +neither see, hear, nor wind anything unusual, but +that mysterious sense which is perhaps the parent, +not the outcome, of the other senses, told him that +the watcher was hidden under the oak tree to his +right, and that he would do well to pursue it thither. +Suddenly the shutters of a window were thrown open, +and a golden beam of light was flung across the +darkness. It lit up the rough bark of the oak tree +on the lawn, and at the foot of the latter, blinking +resentfully in the light, Stubbs saw the owner of the +watching eyes. In a second or two the light was +shut off, and the music grew muffled again; but +Stubbs thought no more of bulbs, for he heard the +patter of feet which scampered back to the wood, +and gave chase.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she did not run very fast, at all events +he soon came up with her. In size she was less +than himself, but judged by badger standards her +charms were surpassing. Also she did not repulse +him, for she came from the Ballinakill 'earth' +outside Knockdane, and had dwelt mateless for +many days.</p> + +<div class="p205"> + <div class="splitr" id="p205-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p205-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p205-3"> </div> + +<p>So Stubbs and Grunter hunted together that +night; that is, Grunter set the pace and chose the +paths, and Stubbs followed. They went by the<span class="pagenum">[205]</span> +main badger path, and crossed the lane which runs +across Knockdane, slithering down a five-foot drop +which is scored in every direction by deep claw-prints, +and entered the Big Meadow together. The +cattle slept in the dewy grass, and, stealing in among +them, the badgers hunted every inch of ground +for beetles. Every now and then a 'bum-clock' +boomed overhead, and then fell 'splotch' to earth. +Small chance had it when the badgers' noses probed +for it in the grass: but Grunter took the lion's +share, for in the wood there is a law that, during the +days of courtship, the female may take what she +will and her mate shall not gainsay her.</p> + +<p>Henceforward they hunted together night after +night. Sometimes they sought for partridges' eggs—eggs +are a badger tit-bit, when he can find them, +which is not often—and these went down, shell and +all, 'crunch-squolch.' Sometimes they beat a way +through the standing meadow grass, leaving a +track behind which two days' sun would not eradicate, +or searched for wasps' nests in the hedge-banks. +These were honeymoon nights, and, sweet +though they were, they could not last for ever. +It was the weather which first stimulated +the pair to find a permanent +'set.' It was showery, with now +a cool wet evening which made<span class="pagenum">[206]</span> +the badgers think of the comfort of a deep burrow +in preference to a makeshift rabbit-hole or drain; +and then again came a hot starlit night, a hunter's +night, when Stubbs filed his claws on a tree-trunk +because of the wasted digger's energy within him.</p> + +<p>On the second such night they went to Larch Hill. +The soil there is dry and sandy, and it is a pleasant +place—cool in summer and warm in winter—and, +wherever the wind stirs, the supple larches bend +before it, and nod and whisper mysteriously among +themselves. Here there was an empty rabbit +burrow, and Stubbs poked in his nose, and snuffled. +Grunter shouldered him aside and crawled in until +only her shaggy hind-quarters appeared. Then she +began to dig, and a continuous shower of sand spurted +out between her hind-legs. When the heap bid fair +to block her in altogether, she backed awkwardly, +shovelling it out as she came. This was Stubbs' +chance. He lumbered into the cavity, and scraped +likewise until his coat was full of dust. Grunter +tried to press in after him, but a well-directed kick +sent her sprawling upon her broad back, and she +was obliged to wait outside until her mate was +tired. So they worked alternately, until a most +respectable tunnel had been driven under the larch +trees.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, however, the herons flew in from the<span class="pagenum">[207]</span> +bogs, full cropped after the night's fishing, and the +morning wind was heavy with the scent of elder +flowers. The caverns of shadow around began +to resolve themselves into cool green arcades, and +the woodcock croaked during their aerial rompings +overhead. The larks sang up on the hill, and the +wood birds answered with a blast of song. The +badgers were tired and dusty and sleepy. Grunter +crept into the half-completed 'earth'; and Stubbs, +after pausing to lick his sore pads, followed her. +They lay down with grunts of content, snout to +snout, stomachs upwards, and in two minutes +were snoring comfortably. That was their house-warming.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p207.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="p207.jpg" title="p207.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[208]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="dCHAPTER_II" id="dCHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">BORRIGAN'S BAITING</p> + +<p>'Get out, ye baste!' growled Marky Borrigan, +shaking the sack he carried over the mouth of +a barrel. There was a stifled grunt, a struggle, +and a grey bundle fell into the cask with a thud.</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-badger.jpg" width="100" height="142" alt="left-badger.jpg" title="left-badger.jpg"> + +<p>'Shure, we have him all safe,' said Borrigan, +with a grin.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-badger.jpg" width="100" height="114" alt="right-badger.jpg" title="right-badger.jpg"> + +<p>'Begob, that was a good night's work,' said +Micksey Bolger, henchman and confederate of the +said Mark. 'Where had ye him cot?'</p> + +<p>''Twas over in Knockdane. I was there at two +o'clock this morning and up at the "earth." I had +the sack wid a bit o' cord run round the mouth, +an' I put it down the hole wid just the mouth set +open, an' the twine fast to a three-thrunk. I sent +the dog huntin' down the wood, and by and by I +heard this felly cantherin' up as it might be a pig. +He stopped just fernent me, and bedam, he cut a +look on me as wicked as a Christian, an' I t'rew the +stick at him an' druve him into the sack in the +hole. But, indade, whin I come to pick it up he +was fightin' inside like the divil an' all his childher, +and a terrible job I had to git him here, six mile in +the ass-cair.'</p> + +<p>'He's a gran' big felly,' said Bolger, peering<span class="pagenum">[209]</span> +into the cask. 'I'm told Andy Grace'll bring his +tarrier, an' there are two boys from Ballyoughter +wid a dog that won the coorsin' there at the New +Year, and two three more. This chap is fresh an' +in fine condition. Bedam, he'll put up a great +fight this evening!'</p> + +<p>'Put him, barrel an' all, into the ould barn,' said +Borrigan. 'The flure there is concrate, an' he'll +not get away on us.'</p> + +<p>They carried the barrel into the barn, and went +away, and the yard was left quiet.</p> + +<p>All Stubbs' preconceived notions of life had +been rudely shaken, when he had darted into his +burrow, only to find it changed into a treacherous +cul-de-sac; and they had been still more overset +when he found himself thus unceremoniously imprisoned +in the barrel. At first he was bewildered +into quietude, but as, in spite of his stolid ways, a +badger is as plucky a beast as hunts the woods, he +soon began to revolve plans of escape. When all +had been quiet for an hour and a half (a badger's +wits are like his legs, slow but serviceable), Stubbs +stood up and upset the barrel. The barn was +lighted by a single loophole, and was quite empty. +The floor was of concrete and undiggable, but the +walls were plaster, and Stubbs' claws—the strongest +in the woods—stripped them bare quickly. Alas!<span class="pagenum">[210]</span> +underneath were bricks, bricks—nothing but bricks: +not a chink or cranny to give purchase to his claws. +In fear and trembling he hid in the cask again, +where the mild light of the summer morning could +not filter; and there, ostrich-like, he believed +himself safe.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>That day was a holiday, and therefore it was +arranged that, in the afternoon, the cur dogs of the +neighbourhood should have an opportunity of +trying their mettle against Stubbs' formidable +teeth and claws. It was very hot, and the badger, +accustomed to the fresh mildness of the hours of +darkness and the cool of the burrows, gasped in the +stuffy barn. There had been a pan of water in +the place, but in his first terrified scamper he had +upset this, and it had not been refilled. He panted, +and watched a dusty streak of sunlight creep from +west to east along the wall. Every time that he +heard a louder voice or step outside, he fled into the +barrel; for hitherto he had known nothing but +the silence and shadows of the woods at night, and +noise and light were both terrible to him.</p> + +<p>At last he heard footsteps clatter up to the barn. +The door was flung open, and a flood of sunlight +poured in.</p> + +<p>'All right! he's in the tub,' said Borrigan,<span class="pagenum">[211]</span> +looking inside. Stubbs felt himself lifted up and +carried out. There was much clamour of voices +and shuffling of feet.</p> + +<p>'Take two to one on Grace's tarrier.' ... 'Not +weight enough. Shure, none o' them dogs could +pull him down.' ... 'A shilling on Comerford's +sheep-dog!' and so on.</p> + +<p>The barrel was turned upon its side, and Stubbs, +half blinded by the glare, and wholly terrified, saw +many men peering at him. The cluster of grinning +faces all seemed to be part of one awful monster; +and he slunk back, growling, with bared teeth.</p> + +<p>'Begob, he'll put up a fight,' said Micksey +Bolger. 'Let the dogs come at him wan be wan, +at first.'</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/p211.jpg" width="400" height="154" alt="p211.jpg" title="p211.jpg"> + +<p>The first was a medium-sized dog, with prick +ears, and a woolly yellow coat. He evinced a +decided desire to fly at the throats of the rest of +his kind, but this being checked, he advanced +truculently to the barrel, with his scruff standing up. +Some one kicked the tub and shouted: 'Git up, ye +divil'; and there was a chorus of yells from the +bystanders. Stubbs bundled out in a hurry, and +at the same moment the dog flew at his throat. The +unprovoked assault restored his wits to the badger. +At any rate here was a definite +enemy, who fought,<span class="pagenum">[212]</span> +not with sacking and rope, but by recognised +methods. He struck out, scoring his assailant's +shoulder, and then backed hastily into the barrel, +until only his striped snout could be seen. A +badger realises that his weakness lies in his lack of +agility, and by preference he fights with his back +to a tree, that he may not be taken in the rear. +Three times the dog charged the barrel; and each +time, strong and vigilant, the badger drove him +back, amid the shouts of the men and the yells of +the surrounding dogs. For the fourth time the dog—the +blood trickling down his muzzle—rushed in. +His temper was up, he was utterly reckless, and +he left his shoulder unguarded. Like lightning +Stubbs' claws fell—and under that stroke the dog's +ribs were laid bare. His owner came forward and +carried him out of the ring, and the next dog was +brought out.</p> + +<p>Of the fight which Stubbs fought for the next +hour I shall say little more, for it is neither good to +read about nor to write of. It will be sufficient to +say that of the five dogs which at last were set upon +him at once, four bear scars to this day, and the fifth +never moved again. Although Stubbs still crouched +victoriously in the barrel, he had sustained three or +four wounds. His eyes were red, for he was very +angry, and he growled continuously; but he was<span class="pagenum">[213]</span> +very tired. However, there was no dog left to match +him.</p> + +<p>The men stood round undecidedly, when suddenly +a voice in the group said: 'Shure, ye should set +Kinchella's dog agin him!'</p> + +<p>'Me dog's too good for this sort of job,' returned +Kinchella. But his voice was none of the steadiest, +for, in addition to the farm and a flourishing poaching +business, Borrigan showed the match-box in the +window.<a name="FNanchor_1_4" id="FNanchor_1_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_4" id="Footnote_1_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> In some parts of Ireland a box of matches in a cottage +window is a secret sign that the place is a 'shebeen,' or house +where drink is distilled, or sold without a licence.</p></div> + +<p>'Ah, now, what hurt to him,' said Mark in +honeyed tones, for he was in no hurry for his +customers to depart. 'Shure, he is twice the size +o' that little baste there, and he'd have him pulled +down aisy.'</p> + +<p>'Pull him down, is it?' broke in another. +'Begob, that badger would skkin anny dog between +this an' the say, let alone that bit of a sheep-dog o' +Kinchella's.'</p> + +<p>'He'd pull him down fast enough,' retorted +Kinchella sharply, 'but I've no mind to have +him kilt on me, an' that lad's claws cut like a +mower!'</p> + +<p>'Bring him, an' let us see it!' shouted another. +'Didn't me little tarrier ate the face off him lasht +week, an' him runnin' from him like a rabbit.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[214]</span></p> + +<p>Kinchella turned round scowling. 'Bedam, but +I'll fetch him,' he said thickly; 'an' whin he has +this baste aten, ye'll alther ye singin'.' And he +strode heavily away.</p> + +<p>Now James Kinchella's dog, Moss, was well +known. He was a big grey sheep-dog with a wall +eye; and although he counted a collie among his +immediate ancestors, the rest of his pedigree was +buried in oblivion. However, he was reckoned the +best cattle dog in the country; and besides, had +the name for killing a dog (let alone a fox) in half +the time taken by his peers. He was the apple of +his master's eye, and in a cooler moment Kinchella +would sooner have tackled the badger himself, bare +handed; but as it was, he presently reappeared +with the dog in a leash.</p> + +<div class="p214"> + <div class="split" id="p214-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p214-2"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p214-3"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p214-4"> </div> + +<p>Stubbs was exhausted, for, besides the strain of +his imprisonment, he had been fighting for his life for +more than an hour; nevertheless, when some one +kicked the barrel and shouted at him, he prepared for +battle again. But it was a hot evening, and the dog +was not inclined to fight. He sat down and +yawned. To his master's orders he merely whined +apologetically and wagged his tail. 'More +power to ye,' shouted Grace sarcastically.<span class="pagenum">[215]</span> +Kinchella had been drinking, and his eyes were hot +and angry. He dealt his dog an unaccustomed kick, +and urged him savagely towards the barrel. Moss +rose, hurt and puzzled; then catching sight of +Stubbs, he instantly associated him with the outrage, +and flew at his throat. The badger snapped +back again, and they grappled together. In many +respects they were evenly matched, for although +the dog was the larger and more active of the two, +the badger was heavy, and furthermore was protected +by the barrel. However, Moss was too clever +to be rash. He knew the power of Stubbs' paw, so +he circled round just out of reach, endeavouring to +tempt his opponent into the open that he might +take him in the flank. But the badger was also +very wary. He knew the strength of his position, +and refused to budge. These feinting tactics went +on for some minutes, and then the men began to +jeer: 'He should have him cot by now' ... +'Indeed, he is a great lad on his pins' ... 'Not so +handy wid his teeth'....</p> + +<p>'Damn it,' shouted Kinchella, 'what chance +has the dog wid ye dirthy barrels?' And striding +forward, in his drunken rage he tipped up the cask, +and tumbled the badger into the open yard, just +as the dog rushed in.</p> + +<p>They met in a smother of dust, and whirled<span class="pagenum">[216]</span> +round. Now and then white fangs snapped, and +once—twice the great claws of the badger fell and +rose again, stained crimson. It was a fight to the +death, and no man there dared interfere; not even +James Kinchella, who looked on, half sobered by +the result of what he had done. Gradually the +dust cleared, and the combatants, locked together, +heaved this way and that in their struggle. The +dog had seized the badger behind the left ear and +shoulder, and again and again in his frenzy he +almost lifted his antagonist from the ground; but +the latter had a lower hold, and slowly and surely +he was seeking his way to his enemy's throat. The +dog felt the relentless fangs closing more and more +tightly, and he fought madly for breath; but however +torn, battered, beaten a badger may be, he never +quits his hold, even in death. Gradually his teeth +met ... the dog's struggles grew weaker ... his +head lolled back.</p> + +<p>'Pull off your divil, Borrigan!' yelled Kinchella, +breaking into the ring; but he was powerless to +loosen Stubbs' jaws—those terrible jaws that are +designed for such work as this.</p> + +<p>'Shure, he has him kilt!' said Bolger.</p> + +<p>It was many minutes before the two could be +separated, for the badger clung to his dying adversary +with a tenacity which defied them all. Then<span class="pagenum">[217]</span> +the dog lay limp and still, and Stubbs himself was in +little better plight.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="p216"> + <div class="split" id="p216-1"> </div> + <div class="split" id="p216-2"> </div> + +<p>James Kinchella, completely sobered, picked up +the body of his dog and walked in silence to the gate. +The men made way for him to pass, and there were +no more jeers nor laughter. 'Ye should put a +bullet into that felly's head, Borrigan,' growled the +owner of the other dead dog.</p> + +<p>But Borrigan knew that the publican at Rathmore +would pay well for the loan of the badger, and, +without heeding the openly expressed anger of the +men, he drove Stubbs back to the barn, and locked +the door.</p> + +<hr class="tb" style="width:10%"> + +<p>Some hours later the last drunken shouts had +died away, and the yard was quiet once more. +Stubbs had been hiding in a corner under a wisp +of straw, but now that the daylight—the hateful +daylight—and the noise were gone, he ventured to +creep out. He was very tired, and his wounds +were stiff and sore; nevertheless he was determined +to escape. He shuffled round the place, testing +every brick in the walls. Presently one pale moon-beam +filtered through the keyhole. The moon was +rising just as he had seen her rise night after night, +behind the larches in front of the badger earth, +miles away in Knockdane. There was only one<span class="pagenum">[218]</span> +crack, and that a very little one; nevertheless he +worked his claws into the interstice and dug. +Some minutes' hard labour, and then the loosened +brick fell out. Inside, the mortar had crumbled a +little, and broke away in cakes; nevertheless the +bricks were sound, and now and then one jammed +obliquely across the opening, and it gave him much +trouble to dislodge it. At the end of two hours he +had made quite a creditable breach in the masonry; +but the wall was far more strongly built than that +of most Irish barns, and he seemed as far as ever +from the fresh air. Time after time he drew back +panting, his tongue dry with dust; but nothing in +the woods is stouter than a badger's claws except +a badger's heart, and he always fell to work again. +By and by he came to a place where the bricks +had broken, and he tore them away more easily, +scraping them out behind him with his sturdy hind-legs. +Once a shrewd kick sent one flying across +the barn with a clatter, and Stubbs scurried into +the straw, in terror lest the men should be upon him +again; but luckily Borrigan slept soundly, and never +dreamed of how his captive was employing the +night.</p> + +</div> + +<p>The moonlight began to fade, and the breeze +which heralds the dawn sighed around the farm. +Stubbs knew instinctively that morning was not<span class="pagenum">[219]</span> +far away, and that were he not free by then his +chances of escape would be poor indeed. But surely +a fresher draught blew through the stones? He +stuck in his claws and scraped again, and five +minutes later a brick fell—not inside the barn, +but outwards with a thud into the field behind. +He had made an opening at last. It was child's +play to enlarge the hole that his head might enter; +and where a badger's head and shoulders can go +the rest of him can follow. He wormed his way +between the bricks, and tumbled head over heels +into the nettle bed below the wall.</p> + +<p>No one saw him canter across the fields. The +grass was soaked with dew, and the moon, red and +luminous in the haze, looked at him like a friendly +eye. He pattered along at his best pace, for the +east was growing bright, and he feared lest daylight +should find him in the open. He knew the country +immediately round Knockdane as he knew the +passage of his own burrow, but these fields were +strange to him. However, he picked his way with +that unerring instinct which is the peculiar heritage +of the Wild Folk, and of men who live as the Wild +Folk live. He turned northwards, and, fording +the trout stream where he paused to drink deeply +and cool his sore feet, entered the low-lying fields +which lie between Coolgraney and Knockdane.<span class="pagenum">[220]</span> +The grass was all but hidden under a blue blur of +scabious, and the cobwebs in the hedges were +elaborately studded with dew-drops. In some places +the corn was already ripening, and the sparrows +harvested there before the farmer was astir. A +kestrel patrolled the fields for breakfast, and a +hare lilted back to her form. Lazy pigeons flapped +over the barley fields, and the rabbits kicked up +their scuts and bolted into the hedges as the badger +trudged past.</p> + +<p>As he climbed the long slopes at the back of +Knockdane, the early beams of the August sunrise +shot over the hill. A cock-pheasant, gobbling +blackberries, ran away at his approach, and boomed, +crowing, over the hedge. Something must indeed +be amiss that the badger was astir after sunrise. +Stubbs had never seen the sun so high in all his +life, and to his eyes the whole world was bathed +in perplexing glare—green, blue, and golden. He +climbed painfully over the boundary wall and into +the grateful shadows of the wood, where the mists, +as though entangled in the tree-trunks, were long +in lifting.</p> + +<p>He turned down the well-known track, and +presently, like the gates of a city of refuge, the +mouth of the 'earth' opened before him. Not a +leaf stirred, but scent lay long on the warm air,<span class="pagenum">[221]</span> +and his nose told him that Grunter was down there +before him. He slid underground, and limped +through the comfortable darkness to the dormitory. +There she slept with her limbs extended awkwardly. +She did not awaken; and Stubbs, flinging himself +down with his head between her fore-paws, closed +his eyes with a sigh of content. Two minutes later +he was completely oblivious to light or darkness, +man or beast, as he sank into a blessed sleep which +bade fair to last far into the succeeding night.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p221.jpg" width="400" height="278" alt="p221.jpg" title="p221.jpg"> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[222]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="dCHAPTER_III" id="dCHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE LARCH HILL 'EARTH'</p> + +<p>On the sunny side of the wood where the larches +spindle up tall and thin, each trying to outstrip +the rest in the race for free air and sunshine, is the +'earth' which Stubbs and Grunter dug, as has +been already related. It had originally been an old +rabbit burrow, but no rabbits had used it for many +years, although it was well drained, warm, and dry. +It consisted of one long main tunnel, with other side +chambers communicating with it, and of a smaller +gallery running parallel to the first. The 'earth' +had only one main entrance, although there was a +rabbit-hole some distance off which opened into the +upper of the two principal galleries; but its roof +was so low that a badger could hardly have crept +along it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p222.jpg" width="400" height="138" alt="p222.jpg" title="p222.jpg"> +</div> + +<img class="split" src="images/left-badger.jpg" width="100" height="142" alt="left-badger.jpg" title="left-badger.jpg"> + +<p>As a spider sits in the centre of his web, so the +badgers lay in the middle hall of their abode. Long, +grey and sprawling, they snored noisily in their +sleep like pigs, with their pied snouts nestled together<span class="pagenum">[223]</span> +in the stuffy darkness. At moonrise, however, +Grunter woke, punctual as an alarum clock. She +rose from the warm bed of moss, and stretched +herself so vigorously that she woke her lord, who +smote his head against the roof and growled. She +glided past him down the passage, and came to the +main entrance, where the fresh night air blew in. +Grunter was hungry. The last two nights it had +rained, and the badgers had lain a-bed, but to-night +was fine and mild again. She thrust her long +snout right and left, and sampled all the strong damp +odours of the night before she ventured to trust herself +to the woods; but all was still, and she pattered +away. Five minutes later Stubbs stole out. By +that mysterious telepathy which is the secret of the +Fur Folk, he knew whither she had gone, and followed +her down the main highroad of the badgers +of Knockdane, under the wet bushes to the fields +by the river bank.</p> + +<img class="splitr" src="images/right-badger.jpg" width="100" height="114" alt="right-badger.jpg" title="right-badger.jpg"> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Greybrush came along about two hours later, +and snuffed thoughtfully at the hole. Greybrush +was a Ballymore fox. He had been born in a +hedgerow during the spring, and now that autumn +was coming on, he sought winter quarters in Knockdane. +There were certainly many desirable points +about this 'set.' He sat down and sucked his +pads, for they were wet with dew, shook his brush<span class="pagenum">[224]</span> +plumy again, and meditated. The upshot of his meditations +was that he presently entered the 'earth.'</p> + +<p>Before the autumn sun had struggled through +the mist, the badgers came home, grunting with +comfort begotten of a raided bees' byke and truffles. +But when Stubbs poked his snout into the burrow +he drew it out again smartly, and his grunt said +plainly and indignantly: 'Fox!' Then more +cautiously they proceeded to investigate. Stubbs +crept in first, and Grunter followed exactly two +feet behind, in approved badger fashion. The +passage wound downwards, and the air inside +being hot and still, the scent was very strong. +Suddenly the silence was broken by a low snarl—the +snarl of a full-fed fox awakened from his sleep. +Stubbs backed precipitately, for the sound was just +under his paws, and in so doing collided with his +mate. For a few seconds there was a scrimmage +as they jammed shoulder to shoulder in the narrow +passage. Then Stubbs struggled free, and they +fled to discuss the situation from a safe distance. A +fox is no match for a badger in open fight, but in +this case the advantage of position decidedly lay +with the intruder. As they deliberated, the ringing +snarl sounded again. That settled it. Sleep is a +necessity to a badger, and it was already long past +bed-time. Stubbs was wet, full-fed, drowsy, and in<span class="pagenum">[225]</span> +no fighting trim. They retired to the draughty main +tunnel, and slept there on the bare ground.</p> + +<p>The next evening the fox went out hunting, and +when the badgers woke and gingerly investigated +the dormitory, they found it empty. They immediately +took possession again, and sniffing fastidiously, +dragged out the deep comfortable bedding which +they had prepared against the winter; for Stubbs +hates anything which a fox has tainted.</p> + +<p>On his return Greybrush found the passage +littered with moss and leaves, while porcine snoring +resounded throughout the earth. The fox was too +cunning to assail the badgers in their lair. He +dug a hollow in the rabbit burrow and slept there, +for he was not particular, and only desired some +place to protect him from the weather; but he +had no intention of making an 'earth' for himself +if he could find one already made.</p> + +<div class="p225"> + <div class="splitr" id="p225-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p225-2"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p225-3"> </div> + +<p>But it certainly was annoying for the badgers, for +Greybrush's ideas of cleanliness did not coincide with +theirs. To find a rabbit's head or other refuse lying +about, distressed them terribly, and night after night +Stubbs delayed his hunting that he might scavenge +the gallery where the fox slept. It is also one of the +laws of the badger code that the nest shall be spring-cleaned +twice a year: in March before the cubs +are born, and in September, in preparation<span class="pagenum">[226]</span> +for the winter's sleep. The last-named clearance had +only just been effected, and the dormitory was in +apple-pie order before the fox's intrusion. However, +the badger is nothing if not persevering, and +Stubbs and Grunter decided to make one last effort +to oust the invader. They entered the other gallery +one night, prepared to turn their unwelcome lodger +out of doors; but the fox had opened up the ancient +rabbit burrow to serve as his back door in case of +emergency, and when the indignant badgers arrived, +they found him 'not at home.' They congratulated +themselves on having ousted him so easily, and +began to refurnish their chamber. There happened +to be a spell of warm dry weather just then, and +the fox lay out in the woods without once returning +to Larch Hill, so that they met with no hindrance. +There is a clearing about two hundred yards from +the mouth of the 'earth,' overgrown with dead +grass. Here the badgers repaired for their harvesting. +They tore up quantities of dry grass and moss, +and twisted them into long wisps deftly enough. +By the time Stubbs had made a selection of what +he considered the finest and driest bedding, the +clearing looked as though a herd of pigs had been +rooting there. The path to the 'earth' was littered +with balls of grass and moss. Several times Grunter +started home with a heavy load, but by the time +she had reached the burrow she had dropped all<span class="pagenum">[227]</span> +but one little wisp, which, however, she carried +underground, and deposited with as much care as +if she had housed the whole collection. At this rate +the badgers' progress was naturally slow, and it +was nearly a week before all was arranged to their +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Alas! the first wet night found the evicted +lodger back in his former quarters, and the badgers, +seriously perturbed, prepared to give battle. They +found the smaller gallery empty, but a snarl from +the passage beyond told them where the intruder +had ensconced himself, and they had perforce to +retire baffled. This happened not once but many +times. Stubbs never came to close grips with his +enemy; the fox was too clever to be caught napping, +and at the sound of shuffling pads in the gallery, +he used to back hastily into the old rabbit burrow, +which was too small for the badger's comfort.</p> + +<p>So matters dragged on for more than a month, +and then the hounds came to Knockdane, and +precipitated the crisis.</p> + +<p>One night the fox went out betimes, but it was +damp and raw, and the badgers slept longer than +usual, for their winter slothfulness was creeping +over them. The weather also accounted for the +fact that Paddy Magragh, the earthstopper, went +his rounds before moonrise that he might return +the sooner to his warm cabin. It was only eight<span class="pagenum">[228]</span> +o'clock when he came by the Larch Hill earth, and +examined the marks outside. He saw Stubbs' broad +spoor (Stubbs' spoor was a spoor to be wondered +at—two and a half inches in width), and he chuckled, +for he had heard of Borrigan's 'baitin'' and its +sequel. Then he set to work with such right good-will +that when Grunter wished to go out, an hour +later, she found a firm barricade of earth and +branches piled against the burrow's mouth. Grunter +was very wary. The hated taint of man hung +about the place, mingled with the smell of wet +earth. What might not be lurking outside? She +crept back to the entrance to the fox's quarters, +and picked her way delicately to Greybrush's +back door, which was so small that it had even +escaped the keen eye of Paddy Magragh. Then +she buttoned down her stumpy tail, and waddled +off truffle-hunting.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The morning was grey and misty, with a cold +nip in the air. Scent lay strong in covert—every +rabbit which hopped across the path left a trail +which lingered on the wet leaves. The tits aloft in +the bare branches chatted together in little splinters +of song, and the woodpigeons squabbled over +clusters of unripe ivy berries. It was as though +the day was reluctant to come; and at noon, save<span class="pagenum">[229]</span> +for a pale sun spot in the mist overhead, it was +as still and damp as at daybreak.</p> + +<p>The jays, scolding in the Fir Plantation at the +top of the wood, saw Greybrush running hard from +Carigaboola with seven couple of hounds behind +him. His tongue was out and his brush was down, +and he thought gratefully of the 'earth' on Larch +Hill as he tore through the brambles, and stubbed +his nose against tree-roots, as fast as his stiff legs +would carry him. All the chaffinches cried: 'Spink—spink—see +the fox! 'ware fox!' but as the +hounds did not understand finch language it did +not matter much. He dived in through his back +door just as the foremost hound burst out of the +covert. The latter marked the place, and bayed +there, with his comrades round him, until the men +rode up. The huntsman crashed through the +bushes and looked at the hole, and then he ordered +a terrier to be brought and put in, that it might +bolt the fox. But Paddy Magragh came down the +path, and although he knew that he ought to have +found and stopped this hole, yet his love of the +hunt was greater than his pride in his woodcraft, +and he said: 'Bedam, Captain, if ye put a terrier +down there ye'll niver see the tail of him again. +This burra' goes into the "earth" below, and there's +badgers in it. Shure, they'd ate him.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[230]</span></p> + +<p>But the master, who was young and very foolish, +said: 'This is too far away to join the big "earth."'</p> + +<p>'Them badgers would dig down to hell itself,' +said Magragh. But the master would have none +of it, and called again for a dog.</p> + +<p>Now Rip, the kennel terrier of the Carkenny +pack, was as game and eke as disreputable a little +cur as ever ran with hounds. His rough coat was +pepper and salt, and his right ear was pricked, but +the left had drooped down ever since it had been +torn in a great fight which he had with an old dog-fox +in Kiltorkan rocks. But he was a bold little +terrier and went straight into the 'earth' after +Greybrush.</p> + +<p>Stubbs was awakened by a smell of fox. Smells +do not awaken human beings as a rule, but a badger's +nose is exquisite, and is always alert, even when its +owner is asleep. Since the fox had come to the 'earth' +this was not an uncommon occurrence; as a rule +Stubbs growled in his dreams and lay still, but +to-day his ear caught the sound of scuffling close +at hand, and he stood up. The burrow was pitch +dark, and the narrow passages carried sound like a +telephone, but overhead Stubbs heard—or rather +felt—mysterious thuds. Grunter, quick to take +alarm, cowered down at the back of the chamber with +the moss heaped over her back, but the hair along +Stubbs' spine rose, and he went out to investigate.<span class="pagenum">[231]</span> +Now, as we have said, the Larch Hill 'earth' +consists of two main tunnels connected by a side +passage. As Stubbs listened he heard something +moving along the other gallery, and knew that the +fox had bolted home in a hurry. Suddenly he +whisked round. He was standing at the spot +where the passages crossed, and something had +glided behind him into his dormitory. He growled, +and waddled back, for he guessed what it was. +Greybrush was thoroughly frightened, and not +daring to lie up in his own quarters, he had sought +refuge in those of the badgers. Stubbs began a +systematic search of the chamber. It was not +large, but it was pitch dark, and so close that his +nose could not guide him. Halfway round he +bumped into Grunter, who had also taken the +alarm, and for a minute or two there was a wild +scuffle before they could establish one another's +identity. Greybrush, too terrified to move, lay still +in the middle, which was perhaps the best thing +he could have done, for the two badgers groped +round the walls and thus missed him.</p> + +<div class="p229"> + <div class="splitr" id="p229-1"> </div> + <div class="splitr" id="p229-2"> </div> + +<p>But presently another smell was wafted down +the gallery. Stubbs' nose disentangled it from the +scent of fox and damp earth around; and then his +little pig's-eyes grew red and angry, for he had not +forgotten the smell of dog which he had learned +in Borrigan's yard that summer. The terrier was<span class="pagenum">[232]</span> +groping his way awkwardly, for the dust in his nose +made him sneeze, and his eyes were as yet scarcely +used to the darkness. However, when he discovered +which way the fox had gone he gave an excited +yelp, and came on. Stubbs rumbled threateningly. +A badger does not fight willingly, and always gives +notice when his patience is growing short. Rip instantly +snarled and rushed in—fox or badger, either +was a legitimate adversary. In the dark he partially +missed his hold and seized Stubbs under the ear. +Stubbs grunted, and flung his head back, but Rip +hung on gamely. Then the badger bored forward +and crushed him against the side of the passage, +and he let go for an instant; but the next moment +he sprang in again, and his teeth met in the other's +shoulder. What little air there was in the burrow +was thick with dust, and both the combatants choked +for breath. Stubbs cut at the terrier with his +digging claws, but the space was too confined, and +only a grunting gasp and momentary tightening of +the teeth in his neck told that his blows took effect. +Rip then shifted his hold again, and tugged and +dragged at the badger's thick hair, with all four +legs widely extended. Stubbs lunged forward in +vain—his enemy merely retreated backwards as he +felt the strain on his jaws slackening. Suddenly +the grip of the terrier's teeth gave way, and he<span class="pagenum">[233]</span> +staggered back with his mouth full of grey hair. +The badger ran forward and in the darkness stumbled +right on the top of the dog. Something hairy +brushed his mouth, and his jaws closed like a trap +upon the terrier's leg. It was well for Rip that +it was his leg and not his body which those teeth +seized, or else all the life would have been squeezed +out of him very quickly; but as it was, as he fell +he twisted himself round and snapped at Stubbs' +jaw. The badger grunted and let go, and the +terrier crawled backwards, dragging his broken leg +and sobbing in his breathing.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p233.jpg" width="400" height="255" alt="p233.jpg" title="p233.jpg"> +</div> + +<p>But as long as there was life in Rip's shaggy +body there was pluck. He rested for a few seconds, +and then turned to the attack again. The badger +heard the muffled yelping close at hand, and knew +that to win his way to the open air he must face +the snapping fury in front of him. He resolved +upon another plan. Grunting and gasping in the +stifling atmosphere he turned round, and plunging +his pads into the light soil, he began to throw up a +barricade. He dug with his long fore-claws, and +shovelled the earth with his hind-legs until the pile +nearly filled the passage. He could hear the terrier +whimpering and scuffling on the other side as he +attempted to climb the barrier, and dug the deeper.<span class="pagenum">[234]</span> +Only when he had put two feet of earth between +himself and his assailant did he slink to the bottom +of the burrow to lick his wounds.</p> + +<p>Rip climbed the barricade time after time. Then, +when he was finally convinced that it was useless, +he dragged himself to the light of day once more, +tattered and torn, with his eyes and nose full of +sand. But they could see that he had fought a +great fight, and Dennis the Whip vowed that he +should never go underground any more. Indeed, +he never could do so, but limped on one leg to the +end of his days.</p> + +<p>How Greybrush ultimately escaped from the +badgers I do not know, but he was not seen abroad +in Knockdane for several days. However, after the +battle the badgers ceased to try and evict him. +Instead, they dug a new and deeper gallery at right +angles to their former one, and dwelt there. So +that if you go to Knockdane and ask Paddy Magragh, +he will show you the Larch Hill 'earth,' and tell +you that foxes live in the upper tunnels and badgers +in the lower. And if you could creep down, where +even Paddy Magragh cannot go, you might hear +the rumbling snores of Stubbs from a side dormitory; +and in the deepest chamber of all, well lined and +cosy, the maternal snorts of Grunter, and the +squeals of her new-born cubs.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/p234.jpg" width="400" height="199" alt="p234.jpg" title="p234.jpg"> +</div> + +</div> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lives of the Fur Folk, by M. D. Haviland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF THE FUR FOLK *** + +***** This file should be named 37127-h.htm or 37127-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/1/2/37127/ + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Matthew Wheaton +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/37127-h/images/left-badger.jpg b/37127-h/images/left-badger.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3866bbf --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/left-badger.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/left-cat.jpg b/37127-h/images/left-cat.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..48d0a51 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/left-cat.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/left-fox.jpg b/37127-h/images/left-fox.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..259c5bb --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/left-fox.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/left-rabbit.jpg b/37127-h/images/left-rabbit.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b04243 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/left-rabbit.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p000.jpg b/37127-h/images/p000.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..434e5d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p000.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p002.jpg b/37127-h/images/p002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb2b196 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p002.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p003.jpg b/37127-h/images/p003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c99fecc --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p003.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p007.jpg b/37127-h/images/p007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d864d0f --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p007.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p008.jpg b/37127-h/images/p008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c1a619 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p008.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p011.jpg b/37127-h/images/p011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..88c0756 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p011.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p014.jpg b/37127-h/images/p014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..621b279 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p014.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p016.jpg b/37127-h/images/p016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab77885 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p016.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p019.jpg b/37127-h/images/p019.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..12aa14d --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p019.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p022.jpg b/37127-h/images/p022.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0694bd6 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p022.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p025.jpg b/37127-h/images/p025.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4190963 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p025.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p029.jpg b/37127-h/images/p029.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6af711b --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p029.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p033.jpg b/37127-h/images/p033.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fa67c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p033.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p037.jpg b/37127-h/images/p037.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cde04ad --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p037.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p039.jpg b/37127-h/images/p039.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0efc40b --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p039.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p043.jpg b/37127-h/images/p043.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..415224e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p043.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p046.jpg b/37127-h/images/p046.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b019c3f --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p046.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p048.jpg b/37127-h/images/p048.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4571b4 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p048.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p051.jpg b/37127-h/images/p051.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8abaa3 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p051.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p053.jpg b/37127-h/images/p053.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..77db86e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p053.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p054.jpg b/37127-h/images/p054.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7146278 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p054.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p056.jpg b/37127-h/images/p056.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7489b04 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p056.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p059.jpg b/37127-h/images/p059.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7146481 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p059.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p063.jpg b/37127-h/images/p063.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0c24a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p063.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p067.jpg b/37127-h/images/p067.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e9cfbb --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p067.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p071.jpg b/37127-h/images/p071.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..59585df --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p071.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p075.jpg b/37127-h/images/p075.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4805c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p075.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p079.jpg b/37127-h/images/p079.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ae3619 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p079.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p082.jpg b/37127-h/images/p082.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac21a36 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p082.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p085.jpg b/37127-h/images/p085.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..810f12e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p085.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p089.jpg b/37127-h/images/p089.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b982f38 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p089.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p091.jpg b/37127-h/images/p091.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd526fc --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p091.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p095.jpg b/37127-h/images/p095.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3492f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p095.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p096.jpg b/37127-h/images/p096.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f852691 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p096.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p101.jpg b/37127-h/images/p101.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28976d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p101.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p105.jpg b/37127-h/images/p105.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..66122e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p105.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p109.jpg b/37127-h/images/p109.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d310d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p109.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p113.jpg b/37127-h/images/p113.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f297b72 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p113.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p116.jpg b/37127-h/images/p116.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ffc12e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p116.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p118.jpg b/37127-h/images/p118.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8a6b14 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p118.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p121.jpg b/37127-h/images/p121.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..645b648 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p121.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p124.jpg b/37127-h/images/p124.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9da53e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p124.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p127.jpg b/37127-h/images/p127.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9aa785 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p127.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p131.jpg b/37127-h/images/p131.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbf7011 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p131.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p133.jpg b/37127-h/images/p133.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ea75c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p133.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p137.jpg b/37127-h/images/p137.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b062dbe --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p137.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p140.jpg b/37127-h/images/p140.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ec80d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p140.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p142.jpg b/37127-h/images/p142.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0714c7d --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p142.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p144.jpg b/37127-h/images/p144.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fdcc29 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p144.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p148.jpg b/37127-h/images/p148.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..86c3783 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p148.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p150.jpg b/37127-h/images/p150.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b0ca3e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p150.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p155.jpg b/37127-h/images/p155.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..27b922a --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p155.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p159.jpg b/37127-h/images/p159.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cfed664 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p159.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p164.jpg b/37127-h/images/p164.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..050ffa8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p164.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p165.jpg b/37127-h/images/p165.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..55103f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p165.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p169.jpg b/37127-h/images/p169.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83854a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p169.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p173.jpg b/37127-h/images/p173.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce6eaa8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p173.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p177.jpg b/37127-h/images/p177.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..68186c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p177.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p180.jpg b/37127-h/images/p180.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ab95f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p180.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p183.jpg b/37127-h/images/p183.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a92e3d --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p183.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p186.jpg b/37127-h/images/p186.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..659a881 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p186.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p189.jpg b/37127-h/images/p189.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98a0511 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p189.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p190.jpg b/37127-h/images/p190.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..66d15c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p190.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p192.jpg b/37127-h/images/p192.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ddc4aa --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p192.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p197.jpg b/37127-h/images/p197.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f8cdb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p197.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p205.jpg b/37127-h/images/p205.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b730dc --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p205.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p207.jpg b/37127-h/images/p207.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb3c80e --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p207.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p211.jpg b/37127-h/images/p211.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28eecbf --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p211.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p214.jpg b/37127-h/images/p214.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddf95b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p214.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p216.jpg b/37127-h/images/p216.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0d42e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p216.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p221.jpg b/37127-h/images/p221.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f66c191 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p221.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p222.jpg b/37127-h/images/p222.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..60bccb3 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p222.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p225.jpg b/37127-h/images/p225.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..92ed96f --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p225.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p229.jpg b/37127-h/images/p229.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90e1d42 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p229.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p233.jpg b/37127-h/images/p233.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1736b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p233.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/p234.jpg b/37127-h/images/p234.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d637e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/p234.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/right-badger.jpg b/37127-h/images/right-badger.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b3db71 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/right-badger.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/right-cat.jpg b/37127-h/images/right-cat.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..12b42d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/right-cat.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/right-fox.jpg b/37127-h/images/right-fox.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3afc91 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/right-fox.jpg diff --git a/37127-h/images/right-rabbit.jpg b/37127-h/images/right-rabbit.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf13e34 --- /dev/null +++ b/37127-h/images/right-rabbit.jpg |
