bow-legs will carry her. The rabbit makes for 

 the woods. Calamity is hot on his track, going 

 down toward the creek. Suddenly she finds 

 herself plunging along a rabbit road, breaking 

 her way through by sheer force where the rabbit 

 slipped along with perfect ease. She is following 

 the path now rather than the scent, and, all at 

 once, discovers that she is off the trail. She 

 turns and goes back. Yes, here the rabbit made 

 a sharp break to the right by a side-path ; the 

 track is fresh and warm, and the old hound sings 

 in her eager delight. On she goes with more 

 haste, running the path again instead of the 

 trail, and— there is no path ! It is gone. This 

 bothers the old dog ; but her nose is keen and 

 she has picked up the course again. Here it goes 

 into another road. She gives tongue again, and 

 rushes on, when— Wotc ! she has plunged into a 

 thick and thorny tangle of greenbrier. 



That is where the torment comes in. These 

 roads have a habit of taking iu the brier-patches. 

 Calamity will go round a patch if she can ; she 

 will work her way through if she must— but it is 

 at the cost of bloody ears and a thousand smart- 

 ing pricks. Bunny, meantime, is watching just 

 [213] 



