66 THE SNOW-WALKERS. 



ure at night, with regular courses and run-ways 

 through the wood, is entirely quiet by day. Timid 

 as he is, he makes little effort to conceal himself, usu-- 

 ally squatting beside a log, stump, or tree, and seem- 

 ing to avoid rocks and ledges where he might be par- 

 tially housed from the cold and the snow, but where 

 also and this consideration undoubtedly determines 

 his choice he would be more apt to fall a prey to his 

 enemies. In this, as well as in many other respects, 

 he differs from the rabbit proper (Lepus sylvaticus) , 

 he never burrows in the ground, or takes refuge in a 

 den or hole, when pursued. If caught in the open 

 fields, he is much confused and easily overtaken by 

 the dog ; but in the woods, he leaves him at a bound. 

 In summer, when first disturbed, he beats the ground 

 violently with his feet, by which means he would ex- 

 press to you his surprise or displeasure ; it is a dumb 

 way he has of scolding. After leaping a few yards, he 

 pauses an instant, as if to determine the degree of dan- 

 ger, and then hurries away with a much lighter tread. 

 His feet are like great pads, and his track has little 

 of the sharp, articulated expression of Reynard's, or 

 of animals that climb or dig. Yet it is very pretty 

 like all the rest, and tells its own tale. There is 

 nothing bold or vicious or vulpine in it, and his timid, 

 harmless character is published at every leap. He 

 abounds in dense woods, preferring localities filled 

 with a small undergrowth of beech and birch, upon 

 the bark of which he feeds. Nature is rather partial 

 to him, and matches his extreme local habits and char- 



