136 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



around the trap until the trap was opened; the top and 

 front end were nailed together, and the bag left a hole on 

 each side when the trap was opened. Twice was enough. 

 The mistake should not occur again. Remembering 

 what Garry had said about a rabbit not biting, I put in a 

 hand and brought the trembling animal out in some way, 

 either by the ears or the hindlegs; memory fails to recall 

 how, but it does bring back the pitiful cries that rang 

 through the woods. This troubled me, but I hardened 

 my heart and dropped the game in the bag, and started 

 for home with my prize, in triumph not unmixed with 

 other feelings. 



With bag on shoulder I stopped at the foot of the hill 

 to drink the strong sulphur water of Harrowgate Spring, 

 of which Colonel Raymond and I were so fond in boy- 

 hood. Here the events of the morning were reviewed in 

 cold blood. Hardly two hours had passed, but the 

 crowded events made it seem ten times as long. The 

 little creature was still now, probably wondering what 

 would come next. After pondering for a while on the 

 escape of the two rabbits and taking another swig of 

 Harrowgate, the recollection of those pitiful cries came 

 up in full force. Then I seemed to realize that they 

 came from a poor, terrified and harmless thing that I was 

 taking to be killed without the excitement of the hunt. 

 I peeped into the bag. Two large eyes and a trembling 

 form were in the corner. Somehow the grip on the 

 mouth of the bag was loosened, the bottom was turned 

 up and a white lump of cotton in a field of gray went 

 bobbing off into the brush. 



When I entered Tom Simmonds' store I said to 

 Garry: "Here's your bag; I haven't got any rabbits and 

 don't want any. I'll go up and spring the traps after 

 school; it's time for breakfast now." 



