WINTER FERRETING 319 



scraping and a shuffle beneath our feet ; the shuffling is 

 succeeded by a rushing to and fro ; the scraping grows 

 into a portentous rumbling, as if a working party of 

 gnomes, with picks and wheelbarrows, were mining the 

 foundation of the ancestral oak. The grumbling echoes 

 of that subterraneous chase are now here and now there. 

 If the distracted terriers were to follow their bent, they 

 would be dancing over the surface of the ground like a 

 couple of globules of quicksilver. Even the sportsmen, 

 although they have time to think, or because they have 

 time, are conscious of something of the flutter that 

 thrills on the nerves when a covey of black-game is 

 whirring up all around one. The rabbits have realised 

 there is danger above, and are loth to be forced by any 

 amount of hunting. You can conceive the sudden 

 agitation in those peaceful tenements below, with the 

 stealthy enemies, all teeth, claw, and muscle, following 

 up the remorseless chase with slow, malignant ferocity. 

 Now some stout old buck must be standing fiercely at 

 bay, his bristling back set to the end of a burrow, and 

 his fore-paws hammering viciously at his assailant. You 

 can follow the shifting fortunes of the single combat, for 

 there seems to be but a sod between you and the lists. 

 Next there is a rush of desperation ; he has taken a 

 flying leap over the ferret, and is gone by. Then a 

 second fugitive shows his head above ground only to 

 jerk it back again ; while a third bounces out of one 

 hole, like a Jack-in-the box, to take a flying leap down 

 another. But at last the general sauve qui peut begins. 

 There a rabbit makes a rush for the ditch, and gains the 



