230 Weasels. 



sound to which the deer are so accustomed that they 

 take no notice. There is httle underwood here be- 

 neath the beeches, but the beech-mast hes thick, and 

 there are dead branches, which if stepped on will 

 crack loudly. 



A weasel rushes past almost undei- foot ; he has 

 been following his prey so intently as not to have 

 observed where he was going. He utters a strange 

 startled ' yap,' or something between that and the 

 noise usually made by the lips to encourage a horse, 

 and makes all speed into the fern. These are the 

 happy hunting-grounds of the weasels. 



During spring and summer — so long as the grass, 

 clover, and corn-crops are standing, and are the 

 cover in which partridges and other birds have their 

 nests — the weasels and stoats haunt the fields, 

 being safe from observation (while in the crops) 

 and certain of finding a dinner. Then, if you watch 

 by a gap in the hedge, or look through a gateway 

 into the cornfield, 3'ou may be almost certain of see- 

 ing one at least ; in a morning's walk in summer 

 I have often seen two or three weasels in this way. 

 The 3^oung rabbits and leverets are of course their 

 prey also. But after the corn is cut you may wait 

 and watch a whole day in the fields and not see a 

 weasel. They have gone to the thick mounds, the 

 covers, woods, and forests, and therein will hunt the 

 winter through. 



The stag is still feeding peacefulh' ; he is now 

 scarce fifty yards awa^^, when he catches sight and is 

 off. His body as he bounds seems to keep just above 

 the level of the fern. It is natural to follow him, 

 tliough of course in vain ; the mead is left behind, 



