THE RABBIT. 219 



way up the sloping bank, she digs it at the bottom, 

 and the day after her infants are born there occurs 

 a heavy thunder-storm. Water collects in the little 

 hollow, and begins to trickle into the burrow. It 

 may finally fill the chamber within, drowning the 

 whole family ; or it may merely damp the bedding. 

 In the latter case three of the young ones, perhaps, 

 contract paralysis, a fourth dies, while the remaining 

 two, being sturdier than the rest, take no harm. 

 When the mother comes again to feed them, she 

 rakes out the dead one, and evidently carries it 

 off so as not to advertise the whereabouts of her 

 home, for I have never seen the missing member of 

 the family lying near the nest. Yesterday there 

 were six in the hole ; to-day there are only five. 

 The weakly one is gone, but there is no sign to 

 indicate where. 



In a few days all the young have their eyes open, 

 and are old enough to begin to think about a 

 vegetable diet. The first favourable night, there- 

 fore, the mother leads them out of the nursery- 

 burrow into the moonlight, shepherding them and 

 pushing them along, while, dazzled and bewildered, 

 they try to get beneath her. Slow is the progress 

 that they make; but presently, topping a ridge, 

 they see scores of other rabbits squatting about 

 on the moonlit plateau, some quietly feeding, and 

 others sit up with ears erect, doing sentry-go. 



The mother-rabbit now becomes very goggle- 

 eyed and important, stamping her hind-legs as she 

 herds the sprawling little ones across the open. 

 Several rabbits sit up and look at her ; then, 

 seeming to take it as a matter of course, go on 

 with their feeding. One long-legged old gentleman 

 (more like a hare than a rabbit), through whose 

 ears there are many shot-holes, hops up with a 



