188 WOODLAND CREATURES 



perhaps fifty yards and then crouch. Mean- 

 while the stoat, momentarily at fault, gallops 

 round in a circle, with its nose to the ground, 

 so as to recover the line, and on picking up the 

 scent is off again like a flash. The poor rabbit, 

 suddenly aware that death is at its very heels, 

 jumps up and goes on, but from sheer fright is 

 unable to gallop, and crouches once more before 

 it has covered many yards. The stoat, however, 

 is almost upon it; it dashes along, its black- 

 tipped tail flicking from side to side, at a won- 

 derful pace ; the scent is hot, it is racing to 

 the kill, and, as the victim staggers to its feet, 

 it springs upon it like a whip-lash flying 

 through the air. The piteous piercing scream 

 of a doomed rabbit rises upon the air, but dies 

 away in a gurgle, for the sharp teeth have 

 penetrated the back of its neck, killing it 

 instantly. 



In many cases the rabbit actually sits down 

 and waits, unable to move, until the stoat comes 

 up to it. I have picked up hunted rabbits so 

 petrified by fear that they have made no 

 attempt to get away. One lay in my hands for 

 ten minutes or more before it showed signs of 

 recovery, and even then could hardly stagger 

 off home. Rabbits may sometimes be found 

 that appear to have died of fear ; at any rate 

 one cannot find a mark upon them, nor any trace 

 of injury. The trade-mark of the stoat and 

 the weasel (the latter hardly ever attacks full- 

 grown rabbits) is of course a hole bitten in the 



