THE BROWN HARE. 193 



chain of tracks to the winter form, which is found 

 in a sheltered hollow of the pasture, facing south. 

 The man stops short in readiness ten paces away. 

 The tracks lead to that tuft, but beyond the tuft 

 the story of Jack's life, written in the world's 

 oldest writing, ceases abruptly. Stooping, the 

 man picks up a twig, and throws it at the tuft ; 

 then away goes the hare, ears laid back, eyes watch- 

 ing behind, eager to place some obstacle between 

 himself and his pursuer. There is a loud report, 

 a squeal, and the hare zigzags ; another report, 

 and silence. There, tinting the snow with his 

 life's blood, lies the hero of many a fiery run, 

 who owes his fate, like so many of his kindred, 

 to the tell-tale writing of the snows ! 



One glorious winter day, when there was a 

 light tracking snow on the ground, I saw a run 

 which opened my eyes as regards the staying- 

 powers of the hare. I was high up in the hills, 

 commanding an incomparable view of the wide 

 valley, and had with me a hound which was both 

 fast and powerful. Putting up a hare, the dog 

 set off in pursuit, pressing the animal hard down 

 the mountain-side ; for, owing to its long hind-legs, 

 a hare is not at its best when running down- 

 hill, and has often been known to fall badly. 

 Once in the valley, a mile away, the hare began 

 a wide circuit, over field after field, round the 

 village, over the pine ridge, and across the burn, 

 the dog, with lagging steps, following by scent 

 now. Yet another circuit of the Boulder Hill, 

 adding three more miles, much of the pursuit 

 hidden from our view ; then we saw the hare again 

 on our side of the hill saw him pause and listen, 

 deliberately tying knots in his trail. Finally he 

 sought the cover of the frozen swamp, and after 



W.A. m 



