48 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
each sagaciously chosen place, and exposed the black earth 
beneath, so that our tempting bait might show from afar. 
Then was the trap placed over it on the bare spot, and set 
with such eareful nicety! Now with many a wistful look 
behind to see if the birds were not at it already, we went on 
to set the next. 
When this first and most important business was got 
through with, then eame hare hunting under the snow. 
Ah, that was the sport! Molly Cotton would sit still 
wherever the storm overtook her, and when the snow began 
to cover her over, she would keep crowding, and pushing 
gently back and forth, pressing it to one side until she had 
formed a roomy little chamber all about her. The snow 
would go on heaping and heaping until a domed arch grew 
over all with just one little round hole, kept open through its 
top by the warm air of her breathing—and there she would 
sit, snug as a Russian Princess, in her palace of ice, and 
dreaming of luscious cabbage leaves and tender apple-shoots 
in the neighboring garden. But Molly’s golden visions were 
as subject to be rudely dispelled as those of other people! 
See! Milo’s keen nose has scented one of those very breath- 
ing-holes on the smooth, glistening surface of the snow—he 
has stopped suddenly on the plunge, with his foot raised! 
“Steady! steady, boy!” We are up with him in long leaps! 
Now for it! “Hie on, boy!’’ and helter, skelter, here we 
come! I, Milo, Pompey, all together, tumbling heels over 
head upon the snowy roof of Mistress Molly’s palace! There 
she is—I feel the soft, warm fur! Squeak! quai! quai! 
quai!—her plaintive cry sings out; we have her! “Hold 
hard, Pompey; she kicks so with her strong hind-legs that 
she will syrely get away !—Down, you Milo!—There now !— 
we have her tied—she is secure !’” 
Every hour or two the traps near at hand are visited, and 
those at a distance twice a day. We start upon our round. 
From afar we can see that one is down! My heart jumps ! 
