12 LOATH TO LEAVE 



of wind she could hardly have failed ; but the 

 air was still ; not a spray or blade moved save 

 those disturbed by the vixen as she moved 

 hither and thither with ears widespread to catch 

 the slightest sound. A stifled cry, the faintest 

 rustle in that silence must have betrayed them ; 

 through the trying, critical seconds, however, 

 they never moved, they scarcely breathed. 



The vixen seemed loath to leave the spot ; 

 but at length she quitted it for the summit, 

 where she searched the fallen stones and scaled 

 the crumbled walls, her form clearly outlined 

 against the sky now tinted with orange by the 

 coming day. On the stone lintel she presently 

 came to a stand, arrested by the sight of the 

 sun which peeped above the eastern hills and 

 warned her that it was time to be seeking her 

 earth. Reluctant as she was to obey, she dropped 

 to the ground and made her way slowly down 

 the shadowed slope. Half-way in the descent 

 she suddenly turned her mask and scrutinised 

 the ground in the hope of catching the hare with 

 head raised watching her retreat ; but bush, 

 rock, and frond alone met her roving eyes. 

 Near the Giant's Bowl she again looked back, 

 and by the expression on her face, now vindic- 

 tive rather than perplexed, seem to say: ''Wily 

 one, you've beaten me this dawn, but I'll lick my 



