KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



31 



return ; the doe usually runs in a circle, unless 

 with young, or having recently kindled ; at such 

 times she often runs forward, and scarcely ever 

 escapes with life, heing naturally unfit for 

 fatigue ; however, hoth sexes greatly regulate 

 their conduct according to the _ season and 

 weather. After a rainy night, in a woody 

 country, neither buck nor doe will keep the cover, 

 owing to the drops of wet hanging on the spray ; 

 they therefore run the highways or stony lanes, 

 for as the scent naturally lies strong, they hold 

 the roads which take the least. Not that a hare 

 judges upon what soil the scent lies weakest ; it 

 is her ears that chiefly direct her, for the hounds 

 being oftener at fault on the hard paths than the 

 turf, she finds herself not so closely pressed, and 

 is not so much alarmed with the continual cry 

 of the dogs at her heels. The louder the cry, the 

 more she is terrified, and flies the swifter ; the 

 certain effect of which is, a heart broken sooner 

 than with a pack equal in number and goodness, 

 but who spend their tongues less free. The same 

 principle directs the hare to run to the covers 

 in autumn, when the ground is dry, and the 

 wind cold, at north or east ; she then keeps the 

 paths that are covered with leaves, which are so 

 continually falling and blowing about that the 

 best hounds cannot carry scent ; her alarms are 

 consequently short, and she rests contented where 

 she is least disturbed. 



When a hare rises out of form, if she erects her 

 ears, and at first runs slowly, with her scut cast 

 over her back, it is surely old and crafty. When 

 a hare is hunted to his form, along the hard 

 highways, and feeds far away from cover, and 

 the doublings and crossings are wide and 

 large, it is a buck ; for the does generally keep 

 close to the side of some cover, and, when going 

 to feed in the corn fields, seldom cross over the 

 furrows but follow the track of them ; when 

 hunted, they turn frequently, use many strata- 

 gems, and rarely leave the country round their 

 seat ; whilst the buck, after two or three turns 

 about his form, runs straight forward four or five 

 miles, and then probably squats in some place 

 where he has before preserved himself. A buck 

 or jack hare may also be known by his head 

 being shorter, his ears more grey, his shoulders 

 redder, and the body being smaller than the 

 doe ; and, at his first starting, by the whiteness 

 of his hinder parts. 



According to the season of the year, the hare 

 is to be looked for ; if it be spring, upon fallows 

 or green corn ; during the autumn, in stubbles or 

 turnips ; in winter, they will seat themselves near 

 houses, in brambles and tufts of thorn. 



Tender feet in dogs, are owing to the softness 

 of that fleshy substance called the ball of the 

 foot ; but nature has been singularly liberal to the 

 hare in this part, by supplying her with such 

 feet as are not subject to, and indeed scarcely 

 susceptible of hurt, so as to incommode her in 

 running. The balls of her feet, instead of hard 

 flesh, are covered with strong coarse fur, suited 

 so well to the purpose that she never treads 

 easier, or to more advantage, than on*the hardest 

 beaten track, or rugged stony roads ; the very 

 surface which cripples a dog, she glides over 

 with pleasure. In a frost she has an evident 

 superiority to most creatures ; the horse does not 



at that season take his gallops, for fear of founder- 

 ing ; the greyhound or hound would in running 

 start all their claws, and tear themselves to 

 pieces — whilst the hare treads as soft as if she 

 went on wool. 



The dear little creature we have here described, 

 is the most harmless of all animals ; consequently 

 Man, her master, takes special delight in hunting 

 her to death, or in wounding her with the con- 

 tents of a gun-barrel ! Are we not justified in 

 calling man " a savage ? " 



THE HERON. 



'TiS NOW that the cold blasts of the 

 north, sweep along the ruffled surface of the 

 lake ; over whose deep waters frown the 

 rugged crags of rusty gneiss, having their cre- 

 vices sprinkled with tufts of withered herb- 

 age, and their summits crowned with stunted 

 birches and alders. The desolate hills around 

 are partially covered with snow ; the pastures 

 are drenched with the rains ; the brown tor- 

 rents seam the heathy slopes ; and the little 

 birds have long ceased to enliven those de- 

 serted thickets with their gentle songs. Mar- 

 gining the waters extends a long muddy beach, 

 over which are scattered blocks of stone ; par- 

 tially clothed with dusky and olivaceous 

 weeds. Here and there, a gull floats buoyantly 

 in the shallows ; some oyster-catchers repose 

 on a gravel bank, their bills buried among 

 their plumage ; and there, on that low shelf, is 

 perched a solitary heron, like a monument of 

 listless indolence — a bird petrified in its 

 slumber. 



At another time, when the tide has retired, 

 you may find it wandering, with slow and 

 careful tread, among the little pools ; and by 

 the sides of the rocks, in search of small 

 fishes and crabs. But, unless you are bent on 

 watching it, you will find more amusement 

 in observing the lively tringas and turnstones, 

 ever in rapid motion ; for the heron is a dull 

 and lazy bird, or at least he seems to be 

 such ; and even if you draw near, he rises in 

 so listless a manner, that you think it a hard 

 task for him to unfold his large wings and 

 heavily beat the air, until he has fairly raised 

 himself. But now he floats away, lightly, 

 though with slow flappings, screams his harsh 

 cry, and hies to some distant place, where he 

 may remain unmolested by the prying natu- 

 ralist. Perhaps you may wonder at finding 

 him in so cold and desolate a place as this 

 dull sea creek, on the most northern coast of 

 Scotland ; and that, too, in the very midst of 

 winter. But the heron courts not society, 

 and seems to care as little as any one for the 

 cold. 



Were you to betake yourself to the other 

 extremity of the island, where the scenery 

 is of a very different character, and the inlets 

 swarm with ducks and gulls, there too you 

 would find the heron, unaltered in manners, 



