216 PEATH or THE HARE AND THE FOX. 



from agitation ; and hope begins to whisper, " they 

 have passed away, never to return," when, lo ! the 

 grisly form of a fierce old savage, slow from age, 

 but with sly, stealthy looks cast around on every 

 side, appears in sight as a basilisk to arrest every 

 faculty of my mind, and hold me entranced as his 

 eye met mine, rendering me incapable of further 

 movement His cautious, fiend-like gaze has in a 

 moment detected my recumbent form, and, with a 

 cry echoing far and wide, he springs upon me 

 with a sudden bound. His grasp is eluded. I 

 fly wildly^ madly, with the last efforts of expiring 

 strength, up the hill-side, where a savage on horse- 

 back, standing resolutely in my path, forbids 

 escape in that direction. The yelling savages in 

 advance, having lost my trail, wheel quickly round, 

 and in another moment I am encircled by the re- 

 turning band, all thirsting for my blood. Alas ! 

 poor pussy ! one piercing scream is heard above 

 the yells of her inveterate pursuers as she yields 

 her last parting gasp. 



The fox dies fighting with his foes. No scream 

 or cry escapes him ; and with fangs fixed firmly 

 in the flesh of the hound which first assails him, 

 his hold relaxes only with his latest breath. The 

 wild stag contends fiercely with horn and hoof — 

 raking, goring, and trampling on his pursuers, 



