Flesh-Eating Land Mammals 



man rises lazily, leans heavily upon the door-post, and 

 listens intently for the sounds he knows so well. 

 The night is clear, the clouds are afar off, and the stars 

 twinkle coldly as he gazes up into the darkened blue 

 above. There is music in the pine-wood behind the 

 shielding, and as the wind dies away the shepherd 

 passes from his door, followed by his companionable 

 collies. The winds whistle by the wood edge, and 

 retard the sounds from the uplands, so he wanders 

 leisurely to the lee of the pine plantation, and listens 

 expectantly. He can see the ridge of the hill finely 

 lined against the sky, and as he intently notes each 

 passing sound, a tiny spot glides along the crest of the 

 mountain. Years of observation tell him that the 

 form which moves just for a m.oment and then 

 disappears is not a pasturing ewe. The ewes and 

 lambs are mostly resting lower on the hill-side where the 

 grasses are more succulent, and where the winds are 

 less biting. There is no four-footed animal of the 

 same outward form that roams after the stars are lit 

 but the Fox. It moves stealthily, and sneaks over the 

 land as if afraid of being seen. In the hills it has the 

 heather to cover its presence, and on the low ground it 

 is seldom seen outside the gorse and broom covers. In 

 either place a Fox likes to have its back lower than 

 the vegetation. If it has to cross a ploughed field, it 

 selects a wide furrow, or slinks down the fence-side, 

 thus shunning the open spaces. As yet there is no stir 

 apparent amongst the ewes and lambs, and the Fox 



22 



