The Snow- Walkers. 87 



nature ; but it not the less effectually reproduces 

 the prints of her children. To the light the snow 

 reveals the doings of the night. Does a mouse 

 so much as cross, she leaves her delicate tracery 

 on the white coverlet. AAV ay from the home- 

 stead rabbits have crossed and recrossed the 

 fields in a perfect maze. That ill-defined "pad " 

 tracks a hare to the turnips. Pheasants and 

 wood-pigeons have scratched for mast beneath 

 the beeches, and we find red blood-drops along 

 the fence. These are tracked to a colony of 

 weasels in the old wall. Last night a piteous 

 squeal might have been heard from the half- 

 buried fence, and the little tragedy would be 

 played out upon the snow. Five wild swans 

 cleave the thin air far up, and fly off with out- 

 stretched necks. The tiny brown wren bids 

 defiance to the weather ; darting in and out 

 of every hole and crevice, usually reappearing 

 with the cocoon of some insect in its bill. These 

 lelicate footprints reproduce the long toes of the 

 [ark, and those are the tracks of the meadow 

 )ipit. The hedge- berries are almost gone ; and 

 lere the redwing and fieldfare have run along 

 :he fence bottom in search of fallen fruit. 

 Those larger tracks by the sheep troughs show 

 :hat the hungry rooks have been scratching near, 

 md the chatter of magpies comes from the fir- 

 ee tops. Scattered pine cones betoken a flock 

 >f incessantly chattering crossbills ; and once in 



