THE ADDER. 83 



winter quarters to hand. A place of this sort is 

 adapted to the retiring disposition of the adder, for it 

 is, of all animals, perhaps the shyest and most timid. 

 An adder will invariably slip away unperceived if 

 possible, and only when absolutely cornered will it 

 show anything like a fighting attitude. Hence it lies 

 just on the edge of the cut fern or wood, ready to slip 

 under cover at the slightest approach of any noise. If 

 the reptile can be traced into the fern, it is probably 

 found that it goes down one of the runs made by the 

 mice or moles, which run just an inch or two below 

 the surface, covered only by the dead leaves and the 

 last year's fern. I had a most exciting chase after an 

 adder in a run of this sort this summer. I saw the 

 adder lying on the edge of the fern where I had seen 

 it on a previous occasion, but though I crept up as 

 quietly as T could, it disappeared into the fern, which 

 was about 3 feet high. I dashed after it, and push- 

 ing the fern aside was just in time to see its tail 

 vanishing down one of these runs. In went my stick, 

 and 1 tore up the run as fast as I could, but not quite 

 so fast as the adder went on. Twice I got an irritating 

 glimpse of the tail disappearing, and the pursuit went 

 on for some 5 or 6 yards of that run. Then, to my 

 disgust, the run branched into two, and I must have 

 taken the wrong one, for I saw that adder no more. 

 Eabbit - holes, too, are favourite places of refuge. 

 Their retreats in the winter we have spoken of when 

 discussing hibernation. 



