1 86 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



intention. The snow is just deep enough to show a 

 footprint, nothing more. In this state it suits the 

 rabbits exactly ; they bound over each other, and 

 frisk about, scuffling the snow up with their hind feet 

 in little powdery clouds ; sitting up now and then to 

 wipe the particles of snow from their faces and ears. 

 Now they are off again for a final frolic before settling 

 down to feed. Under and over the crushed limbs of 

 the fallen pines they jump and rush, making the twigs 

 crack and snap and rustle. The marten hears the 

 racket ; he has changed his position again, and instead 

 of crouching on the top he is at the bottom, his sharp 

 eyes and nose peering from between the dead twigs. 

 The unearthly solo sounds again from some tree near 

 at hand, followed by two barks in quick time one 

 after another echoed by the little owl perched on a 

 twig of one dead limb, where he has been gabbling 

 for some time as only a little owl can. The giant of 

 the same tribe sends his barking notes over the tree- 

 tops, shrilly answered by his dwarf relative, who, not 

 to be outdone in the matter, puffs out the feathers of 

 his throat, and yelps his loudest. This is too much 

 for the bunnies ; others of their family got into trouble 

 one night when that solo was heard, and they have 

 not forgotten it. 



The play is ended ; they make for the open space 



