122 Light with the Polecat. [CHAP. VIL. 
about to be assaulted by a legion of polecats, and that it 
might be best to beat a retreat. 
“T was just in the act of rising, when I saw my adversa- 
ry once more make his appearance at the entrance. He 
seemed to be alone. I slipped quietly down again to my 
former position, and waited his attack. After a rather 
slow and protracted march, in the course of which he sev- - 
eral times turned his head toward the door—a mancuvre 
which I did not at all like—he at last approached me. He 
at once leaped upon me, and looked back toward the en- 
trance. I lifted my head, and he looked full in my face. 
Then he leaped down, and ran to the entrance once more, 
and gave a squeak. No answer. He returned, and leaped 
upon me again. He was now in a better position than be- 
fore, but not sufficiently far up for my purpose. Down 
went his nose, and up, up he crawled over my body toward 
the bird in my breast-pocket. His head was low down, so 
that I couldn’t seize him. 
“T lay as still as death; but, being forced to breathe, the 
movement of my chest made the brute raise his head, and 
at that moment I gripped him by the throat. I sprung in- 
stantly to my feet, and held on. But I actually thought 
that he would have torn my hands to pieces with his claws. 
I endeavored to get him turned round, so as to get my 
hand to the back of his neck. Even then, I had enough 
to do to hold him fast. How he screamed and yelled! 
What an unearthly noise in the dead of night! The vault 
rung with his howlings. And, then, what an awful stench 
he emitted during his struggles! The very jackdaws in 
the upper stories of the castle began to caw. Still I kept 
my hold. But I could not prevent his yelling at the top 
of his voice. Although I gripped and squeezed with all 
my might and main, I could not choke him. 
“Then I bethought me of another way of dealing with 
the brute. I had in my pocket about an ounce of chloro- 
form, which I used for capturing insects. I took the bot- 
