58 



WINTER 



as to seem like the prints of a single foot. " That 's 

 a weasel's trail/' I said, "the death's-head at this 

 feast/' and followed it slowly to the pile of wood. A 

 shiver crept over me as I felt, even sooner than I 

 saw, a pair of small, sinister eyes fixed upon mine. 



The evil pointed head, heavy but alert, and with a 

 suggestion of fierce strength out of all proportion to 

 the slender body, was watching me from between 

 the sticks of cord-wood. And just so had it been 

 watching the mice and the rabbits and the birds 

 feasting under the tree! 



I packed a ball of snow round and hard, slipped 

 forward upon my knees and hurled it. Spat ! it 

 struck the end of a stick within an inch of the ugly 

 head, nearly filling the crevice with snow. Instantly 

 the head appeared at another crack, and another ball 



