178 WOODLAND CREATURES 



lack nothing in comfort ; indeed, their bed is the 

 softest and most cosy that could be imagined, 

 for being born naked, blind, and helpless, they 

 need to be kept warm and dry. 



Twice I have had the pleasure of watching a 

 doe at work gathering materials for the nest. 

 Once it was a rabbit that had invaded the garden. 

 I spied her when she was quietly nibbling the 

 even turf of the lawn, and, as my eye lit on her 

 brown shape, I thought what trouble there was 

 in store for her, as rabbits were not appreciated 

 in the garden. However, I did not disturb her, 

 but waited and watched. In a few seconds she 

 stopped eating, sat up, and looked round, but 

 did not see me, and proceeded to wash her face. 

 She did it in just the same manner as a cat, passing 

 each paw rapidly over her nose, licking them 

 between each wipe, and then rubbing them behind 

 the ears and bringing them again down over the 

 nose. Then she pulled her ears down, next 

 twisted round and licked her sides, after which 

 she shook her fore-feet and hopped away towards 

 a shrub, round the stem of which the grass had 

 managed to escape the lawn mower. She sniffed 

 about for a moment, then proceeded to gather 

 a mouthful of the deadest and dryest grass she 

 could find, and after she had got as much as she 

 could carry, hopped off with it towards a little 

 plantation of trees and shrubs. In a minute or 

 two she came hopping back, gathered another 

 mouthful, and disappeared again. Thus she 

 made several journeys and one or two of the 



