110 THE FIGHT 



is wondering, as she gets no glimpse of the 

 game, whether it is worth her while to go any 

 farther, for twice before during the hare's 

 absence from the hill she has hunted Grey 

 Fox half the night, only to drive him to ground 

 on the north side of Bartinney, where at this 

 moment she thinks he is probably curled up in 

 his inmost den, far beyond her reach. But such 

 is her keenness that she cannot resist the burn- 

 ing, alluring trail, and leaping from the wall, 

 she makes her way up the hill and enters the 

 furze, where Grey Fox awaits her. 



Without growl or snarl the fight begins. 

 Except the violent shaking of the bushes, there 

 is no outward indication of the terrible struggle 

 that goes on. For a long while the hare, 

 watching excitedly, sees nothing of the com- 

 batants save the white tip of the fox's brush, 

 but anon they come into the open, where 

 not a spray shuts out the view. They seem 

 equally matched, because though Grey Fox 

 leaps, now this way, now that, as if yield- 

 ing to the lurcher's determined onslaught, 

 he is not giving way : it is but his method 

 of preventing the enemy from fastening on 

 his throat. The quickness of his movements is 

 wonderful, nor does he forget to use his jaws. 

 See how he snaps ! The strange noise is the 



