THE CAPE HARE 



with tail switched over its back it jogs along at a 

 trot and once more surprises the Hare, which, now 

 thoroughly alarmed, bounds off, perhaps for a 

 mile or more. Time and again the plodding 

 Muishond tracks it down, until the Hare is either 

 exhausted or so terrified that it makes no further 

 attempt to escape, whereupon the Muishond grips 

 it by the throat and ends its existence. 



One morning just after dawn, when riding across 

 a hill-side, I observed a Hare break from the grass 

 at some distance below on the veld. It ran for a 

 short distance obliquely up the hill, and slackening 

 its pace began to hop about at random in an aim- 

 less kind of way. Its actions were so unusual that 

 I dismounted and watched it. Presently a Striped 

 Muishond, with tail aloft and nose to the ground, 

 came into view from the spot where the Hare 

 appeared. It had evidently been most of the night 

 on the trail of the Hare, and the latter was, no 

 doubt, exhausted and dazed with fear. When it 

 observed its enemy, instead of making another bolt 

 for life, it threw itself upon its side and screamed 

 shrilly, until the Muishond tore out its throat. 



On another occasion I was fortunate enough to 

 observe another more or less similar tragedy of the 

 veld. 



It was about sundown out upon a low hill-side. 



I was lying behind a boulder watching some Klip 



Dassies or Rock Rabbits with the aid of a field-glass, 



when I observed the well-known form of a Striped 



J 95 



