116 EYE-BEAMS 



inches under the surface, by making a fresh 

 breach a few feet away. 



While I was leaning upon my shovel-handle 

 and recovering my breath, I heard some light- 

 footed creature tripping over the leaves above 

 me just out of view, which I fancied might be 

 a squirrel. Presently I heard the bay of a 

 hound and the yelp of a cur, and then knew 

 that a rabbit had passed near me. The dogs 

 came hurrying after, with a great rumpus, and 

 then presently the hunters followed. The 

 dogs remained barking not many rods south of 

 me on the edge of the swamp, and I knew the 

 rabbit had run to hole. For half an hour or 

 more I heard the hunters at work there, dig- 

 ging their game out; then they came along and 

 discovered me at my work. (An old trapper 

 and woodsman and his son.) I told them what 

 I was in quest of. "A mountain weasel," said 

 the old man. "Seven or eight years ago I 

 used to set dead falls for rabbits just over 

 there, and the game was always partly eaten 

 up. It must have been this weasel that visited 

 my traps." So my game was evidently an old 

 resident of the place. This swamp, maybe, 

 had been his hunting ground for many years, 

 and he had added another hall to his dwelling 

 each year. After further digging, I struck at 

 least one of his banqueting halls, a cavity about 

 the size of one's hat, arched over by a network 

 of fine tree-roots. The occupant evidently 

 lodged, or rested here also. There was a 

 warm, dry nest, made of leaves and the fur of 



