THE HARE 61 



hard indeed to distinguish between any of these species, the varia- 

 tions being only such as a Zoologist would appreciate. From a sport- 

 ing point of view they are all alike. They all run in the same way, 

 dodge about in the underbrush, or sit tight, letting the sportsman step 

 right over them without moving. 



Hare shooting under ordinary conditions is liable to prove some- 

 what tame sport. Compared with almost any bird on the wing a 

 hare running in the open offers an easy mark. It seldom breaks cover 

 out of easy range, and is also very easily killed or disabled. It is 

 only where there is plenty of thick cover, or in very rough or moun- 

 tainous country that the sport really begins to get interesting. Then 

 it is that the hare shows to advantage its wonderful dodging powers, 

 so that frequently even good sEots are beaten. With its sharp, sud- 

 den turns, short, quick leaps over, and dives under the scrub it 

 presents a very baffling mark. 



Like the partridge the hare, in China at least, is usually taken, 

 as chance offers, in the chase of other game. It invariably abounds 

 in good pheasant country and forms a pleasant diversion by getting 

 up in all sorts of unexpected places. 



An interesting method of hunting the hare in flat country is to 

 shoot it from horseback. This gives it a better chance, and also 

 allows of a good cross country run, for the hare, if missed once, can 

 be followed and put up again and again. We used frequently to 

 practice this sport on the Tai-yuan Fu plain, as no one was fortunate 

 enough to own any hounds. 



One hare, which we named Lucky Alphonso because he always 

 escaped us, once gave me a splendid run. A party of us put him 

 up in the usual grass patch that he occupied. We missed him as usual 

 and then set out after him, as he raced away over the ploughed fields. 

 A flock of geese attracted the attentions of my companions, who gave 

 up the chase, but Alphonso had eluded me so often that I was deter- 

 mined to get him. He entered a kaoliang patch, from which I drove 

 him. In another half mile he sought the refuge of some 

 low sage brush, but again I got him going. Once more he 

 found cover, and was driven out. This time he headed straight for 

 the river and dived in. Next moment I saw his head above the eddies 

 as he bravely swam for the opposite shore. I rode up to the bank 

 and stood watching him. Suddenly, when nearly across, ho changed 

 his mind, and, turning back, came straight towards me. He reached 

 the bank, dragged himself out, shook the water from his coat, and 

 lopped off. I had not the heart to shoot him then, and as far as I 



