A GALPIN HILL RABBIT. 



G. R. PECK. 



"When a cottontail rabbit can furnish 

 a man 3 hunts it is certainly a rubber rab- 

 bit, isn't it?" said old Si Van Netten to 

 the crowd in the gun store. 



"That depends on what kind of a man 

 is after the rabbit, doesn't it, Si?" asked 

 one of the boys. 



"Well, I don't know as it is that, so 

 much; sometimes it seems just luck. I'll 

 tell you how it was. I was walking along 

 near Auburn, N. Y., one day last fall. The 

 season had hardly begun, but there was a 

 hint of red and yellow in the leaves and a 

 suggestion of haze in the air that made 

 one think of gunpowder and game. 



"I was on the ridge partly for exercise 

 and partly to see if any cottontail had es- 

 caped the bag and ferret hunters who al- 

 ways infest the vicinity of towns. I had 

 an old gun with me, not a flintlock, but 

 still not an ejector. Best of all I had 2 

 hounds that could run a rabbit and loved 

 to do it. It was late in the afternoon. 

 The woods and underbrush wore their 

 pleasantest smile and it was a privilege to 

 be afield even if nothing in the shape of 

 game turned up. There was the sweetest 

 of odors in the air, and the sky was a dome 

 of clearest azure, whether one looked to 

 the North, where the smoke rose lazily 

 from Auburn chimneys, or Southerly, to- 

 ward the glassy lake. Little cedars were 

 trying to live on sand and air and be 

 somebodies in the tree world, and old 

 apple trees in a hollow were bending be- 

 neath their load of sour and nubby 

 fruit. 



"While I was looking about, the hounds 

 had been busy. Before long a note of 

 warning from them gave me something 

 else to think of, and I looked at the caps 

 on the gun to see if they were all right and 

 in place. The warning note was quickly 

 followed by another, and I hurried to the 

 edge of a path that I thought bunny would 

 be likely to cross, because others in days 

 gone by had crossed there. The hounds, 

 in full cry, swept through a portion of the 

 cover, out into the open and up the hill- 

 side through the woods to the top of the 

 ridge. Then I knew the rabbit must be 

 near me and that if he turned to the East 

 he must follow the path near which I 



stood. Sure enough, the hounds turned 

 my way, and about 3 rods ahead of them 

 I spied bunny loping leisurely along as 

 if in no fear of the dogs. As I 

 raised the gun he saw me and fairly 

 cleaved the air in a break for safety. The 

 charge of shot damaged the golden rod be- 

 hind him and the longeared hermit of 

 Wintergreen hill was lost to view in the 

 cover. When the dogs came up and asked 

 for a look at the quarry I was compelled 

 to confess my poor markmanship, and so 

 in disgust all 3 of us left the hill for 

 home. As I trudged to the road I thought 

 a live rabbit had more interest for me than 

 a dead one after all, and I was happy in 

 the expectation of at least another day's 

 pleasure on the hill. 



"It is a mighty smart cottontail that can 

 get away from you Mr. Van Netten," said 

 Nance Cantelle, as he moved a little near- 

 er the fire. The remark was not lost, and 

 the gleam of pride that came into old 

 Si's eyes showed his appreciation of the 

 compliment. 



"I went up there again a few days later," 

 he continued, "and hunted all around Win- 

 tergreen hill, and as far to the West as Gal- 

 pin hill. There the dogs routed out a festive 

 young buck rabbit and chased him 

 around the lot and back again. I could 

 see the whole run, and it was worth seeing 

 and hearing, too. When, at last, Brer 

 Rabbit holed up, he was safe from me. and 

 the game was over. 



"It was about a week later when I again 

 visited my happy hunting ground. Think- 

 ing I knew just where to look for bunny 1 

 went to Galpin hill ; but as the dogs could 

 not start our old friend we proceeded to- 

 ward Wintergreen and there jumped him in 

 cover on the hillside. That time he was 

 taken by surprise, to judge from the music 

 of the hounds, for both bayed from the 

 first and both at the same time. It was a 

 hot and merry chase, until I saw bunny and 

 put an end to the whole business with oue 

 barrel. I was sorry almost as soon as I 

 had pulled the trigger. When he was dead 

 the place seemed desolate. Nothing is 

 there now that is attractive except the 

 view and the little stunted cedars among 

 which rabbits used to run." 



Love never laughs at goldsmiths. — Ex- 

 change. 



352 



