188 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



rabbit frees himself, and drops to the ground to find 

 himself in the grip of the marten ! who, with one bite 

 at the back of his neck, kills him at once. Such 

 instances are not by any means rare. I have fre- 

 quently noticed that one creature flying or running 

 to save its life from one pursuer has met with death 

 from another that has not hunted it 



The marten shares the forest with the wild-cat, 

 the lynx, the fox, and the wolf. General readers may 

 not be aware that up to this present year of 1 889 the 

 wolf is a most terrible foe to the flock of the Breton 

 peasant. Any one familiar with these diminutive 

 sheep, which are not much larger than a good hare, 

 may guess that more than one would be required to 

 stop a gap in the stomach of a grey, gaunt wolf as 

 large as a Newfoundland dog. During the dread 

 winter months they are taken into their shepherd's 

 hut for the night for shelter one he has built for him- 

 self in the side of some bank, the sloping roof covered 

 with heath. Sometimes the wolves will even scratch 

 a hole through this, and kill and eat the small sheep 

 without attempting to attack the human inmates. 



When they are pressed by hunger they will do 

 like other creatures, satisfy their cravings at some 

 considerable risk. 



I remember once seeing a pack of foxhounds, in 



