Upweekis the Shadow. 



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the eyes of a lynx at night, when the light catches 

 them, is a scary experience. Your rifle jumps to posi- 

 tion ; the glowing coals are quenched on the instant. 

 Then, when your eyes have blinked the fascination 

 out of them, the shadows go creeping in and out 

 again, and Upweekis is lost amongst them. 



Sometimes, indeed, you see him again. Moktaques, 

 the big white hare, who forgets a thing the moment it 

 is past, sees you standing there and is full of curiosity. 

 He forgets that he was being hunted a moment ago, 

 and comes hopping along to see what you are. You 

 back away toward the fire. He scampers off in a 

 fright, but presently comes hopping after you. Watch 

 the underbrush behind him sharply. In a moment it 

 stirs stealthily, as if a shadow were moving it; and 

 there is the lynx, stealing along in the snow with his 

 eyes blazing. Again Moktaques feels that he is 

 hunted, and does the only safe thing; he crouches low 

 in the snow, where a fir-tip bends over him, and is still 

 as the earth. His color hides him perfectly. 



Upweekis has lost the trail again; he wavers back 

 and forth, like a shadow under a swinging lamp, turning 

 his great head from side to side. He cannot see nor 

 hear nor smell his game ; but he saw a bit of snow fly 

 a moment ago, and knows that it came from Moktaques' 

 big pads. Don't stir now; be still as the great spruce 



