HUNTING THE SNOW 183 



hounds, nip and tuck, in a burst of speed across 

 the open field that left a gap in the wind be- 

 hind. 



It had all come as a surprise. The hounds had 

 climbed the hill on the scent of a fox, and had 

 "jumped " the hare unexpectedly. But just such 

 a jump of fear is what a hare's magnificent legs 

 were intended for. 



They carried him a clear twelve feet in some 

 of the longest leaps for the ridge, and they carried 

 him to safety, so far as we could read the snow. 

 In the medley of hare-and-hound tracks on the 

 ridge there was no sign of a tragedy. He had 

 escaped again — but how and where we have still 

 to learn. 



We had bagged our hare, — yet still we have 

 him to bag, — and taking up the trail of one of 

 the dogs, we continued our hunt. 



One of the joys of this snow- walking is having 

 a definite road or trail blazed for you by know- 

 ing, purposeful feet. You do not have to blunder 

 ahead, breaking your way into this wilderness 

 world, trusting luck to bring you somewhere. 

 The wild animal or the dog goes this way, and 

 not that, for a reason. You are following that 



