THE BOY-HUNTER. 45 
star-nozed moles. held their root festivals in domed chambers, 
they were there to blaze amidst the velvet-coated throng, 
right merrily at midnight. And the soft mice! they had some 
games with them, too, and loved mightily their warm round 
nests beneath the stubble, or in leafy hollows of dead trees. 
As for the gaunt and bloody weasels, they fright them with 
a sudden glare in those dark passages where they dig, nosing 
for murder; and blind, too, the sullen mink with splendor in 
his earthy prowls! 
So at first I went forth among the creatures of earth, in 
peace, and saw them in my simple faith; and all my plea- 
santest memories of calm, unmixed delight, are associated 
with that time of innocent wonder and loving familiarity with 
these fresh articulations of God’s thought in forms. 
But as my passions grew, this harmless wonder changed 
into curiosity, that became insatiable for a more intimate 
knowledge. I yearned to know them better, to see them 
more closely, to feel them, to possess! I became jealous of 
that graceful freedom I had at first admired so much, because 
it took them away from me just when my heart was overflow- 
ing towards them; I reached forth my arms to clasp them to 
my bosom, the empty air I folded chilled me at first, and then 
anger rose. The pride of a despotic will, the rights of the 
natural lord, were wounded from the tender side, and thus 
became aroused to an embittered consciousness of strength, 
and a willful purpose to use it against my gentle playfellows. 
It was not that I grew cruel suddenly, and sought them 
with the dark curse of Cain in my heart, at once; but that 
I was impatient of this liberty that could take them from mo 
when they willed, and desired to restrain them to come to me 
when I willed. 
I had no thought of murder at first, when I learned to en- 
snare them. It would have broken my heart then to have 
slain one; and so full was I of love for them, that I could not 
fully realize how much they suffered in being deprived of 
