52 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 



he was at this desolate spot when he heard the 

 distant sound of a horse cantering over the ground. 

 The heavy rains had flooded the land, and he heard 

 the splash of the hoofs as the horse came towards 

 him. "Who could this be out on horseback at 

 twelve o'clock on a dark winter night?" he asked 

 himself; and listened and waited while the sound 

 grew louder and louder and came nearer and 

 nearer, and he strained his eyes to see the figure 

 of a man on horseback emerging from the gloom, 

 and could see nothing. Then it suddenly came into 

 his mind that it was no material horseman, but a 

 spirit accustomed to ride at that hour in that place, 

 and his hair stood up on his head like the bristles 

 on a pig's back. " It almost lifted my helmet off," 

 he confessed, and he would have fled, but his 

 trembling legs refused to move. Then, all at once, 

 when he was about to drop, fainting with extreme 

 terror, the cause of the sound appeared — an old 

 dog badger trotting over the flooded moor, vigor- 

 ously pounding the water with his feet, and making 

 as much noise as a trotting horse with his hoofs. 

 The badger was seven or eight yards away when 

 he first caught sight of him, and the badger, too, 

 then saw a sublime and terrifying creature stand- 

 ing motionless before him, and for a few moments 

 they stared at one another ; then the badger turned 

 aside and vanished into the darkness. 



To return. It was the sight of a fox that set 

 me speculating on this subject. I have seen more 

 foxes than I can remember, but never one that was 



