RaggMlug 113 



reached the farther reeds when a great mass of 

 floating snow barred her road; then the wind 

 on the bank made strange, fox-like sounds that 

 robbed her of all force, and she was drifted far 

 backward before she could get free from the 

 floating bar. 



Again she struck out, but slowly — oh so 

 slowly now. And when at last she reached the 

 lee of the tall reeds, her limbs were numbed, 

 her strength spent, her brave little heart was 

 sinking, and she cared no more whether the 

 fox were there or not. Through the reeds she 

 did indeed pass, but once in the weeds her 

 course wavered and slowed, her feeble strokes 

 no longer sent her landward, and the ice form- 

 ing around her, stopped her altogether. In a 

 little while the cold, weak limbs ceased to 

 move, the furry nose-tip of the little mother 

 Cottontail wobbled no more, and the soft brown 

 eyes were closed in death. 



But there was no fox waiting to tear her with 

 ravenous jaws. Rag had escaped the first on- 

 set of the foe, and as soon as he regained his 

 wits he came running back to change-off and 

 so help his mother. He met the old fox going 

 round the pond to meet Molly and led him far 

 and away, then dismissed him with a barbed- 



