CHAP. X Billy: a Memoir of an Old Friend 245 



ever. It was the ■work of an instant ; the life seemed 

 to pass as swiftly as the Kingfisher that darts by me 

 and is gone round a bend of the stream. I took the 

 vole up in my hands while Billy trotted on in search 

 of another ; the eyes were bright as jewels, the fur 

 was clean and wholesome to the touch, without a 

 trace of injury. It was no cruel ehd, — death follow- 

 ing on sweet sleep, with a bare ilash of consciousness 

 between them. 



I raise my eyes from the stream, and the next 

 object that meets them again reminds me of my old 

 companion. If he were here, that little herd of 

 young bullocks would be edging towards us, with a 

 stupidly malicious curiosity written on their faces. 

 BOly was wholly indifferent to them ; he knew them 

 to be degi-aded, witless creatures, and would even let 

 them come up and smell him before he deigned to 

 put them to sudden and disgraceful flight. He knew 

 that the secret was to turn upon them suddenly, 

 and he emphasised this rapid change of policy with 

 a howl so startling and diabolical that no four-footed 

 creature, save one of his own kind, could ever with- 

 stand it for a moment. That he might some day 

 be tossed or trampled on never once entered into 

 his calculations ; and as he grew older and stiffer, 

 if we had let ourselves be penned in the corner of a 

 field, I used to take him in my arms and make a 

 sudden charge upon the enemy. At the moment 



