THE COMMON RABBIT 187 



bounds, but the most active enemy the rabbit 

 has, has not yet been mentioned, namely the 

 stoat. This fierce little hunter probably kills 

 more rabbits than any other foe save man, 

 and it is feared by them as it deserves to be 

 feared. When it enters a burrow the inhabitants 

 flee in all directions, thumping their heels as 

 they go, and bolting for the upper air. If 

 only they all galloped straight away, they would 

 be safe, but this is just what they do not do. 

 Instead they stop, sit up, listen nervously, 

 stamp their feet, hop on a yard or two, and 

 wait again. Possibly they think the alarm was 

 a false one. Maybe they think the hunter has 

 settled on the line of another rabbit. At any 

 rate they invariably waste their chances of 

 escape by lingering about. Meantime the 

 stoat has picked out a certain trail from the 

 many scents in the burrow, and to this it will 

 stick. It knows if it keeps changing quarry it 

 will never be able to kill, but with its wonderful 

 nose there is little chance of it losing the rabbit 

 which it elects to hunt. Once the stoat has 

 chosen a line, the rabbit that left the scent is 

 doomed, though even yet it might save itself 

 had it only the wits to gallop right away without 

 waste of time. But the mentality of the rabbit 

 presents some curious problems, not the least 

 of which is why the mere hint of the presence 

 of a stoat should have a paralysing effect. 

 The minute a rabbit realizes it is being hunted 

 by a stoat it loses its head. It will canter 



