GRIMALKIN THE CAT 147 
the blackthorns, each as thick as a man's arm, 
had been trimmed ; and their roots had been 
undermined in every direction by rabbits. Inside 
the field the fence's foot was overgrown with 
tussocks of long grass, honeycombed by runways. 
It was easy to crouch in one of these until a young 
rabbit hopped within distance, and then a few soft 
steps a pounce and the kill. Grimalkin slid 
into the grass, which closed over his striped back 
and hid him. 
The moon was bright as day. Further down the 
fence half a dozen rabbits were feeding; but the 
other side of the field, beyond which lay a beech 
wood, was deep in shadow. Shrill threads of sound 
from a neighbouring grass tuft meant that the field 
mice were squabbling among the fallen beech nuts ; 
but Grimalkin only cocked one ear and tucked his 
paws away neatly against his chest. It was a 
hunter's night and he awaited nobler quarry. 
A long hour passed. Then one of the rabbits sat 
up and kicked the ground uneasily, while the rest 
listened. A rabbit was cantering across the field 
towards them. She picked her way among the 
thistles, and stopped every now and then quivering. 
She did not seem in a hurry, and yet was apparently 
quite unaware of their presence. The other rabbits 
thumped suspiciously and scattered there was 
