170 GRIMALKIN THE CAT 
eyes was a little chamber lined with grass bents. 
On the ground squeaked and squirmed a heap of 
grey and white fur, and encircling it proudly with 
her body lay Zoe. She purred softly to her brood, 
and licked the tiny round heads thrust forward so 
eagerly for a meal. She never noticed Grimalkin 
until his shadow darkened the doorway, and then 
she sprang up a very fierce mother with back 
arched. In the woods motherhood for a time 
swamps all other feelings ; and Zoe now looked upon 
her former lover as she would have done upon any 
other creature who threatened her kittens. 
However, Grimalkin had no evil intentions. 
He thrust his head into the nursery and touched 
Zoe's whiskers ; and, although her claws were 
drawn back to strike, she suffered the caress. One 
of the kittens, mewing plaintively, crawled to 
Grimalkin, and thrust its minute pink nose into 
his side. Grimalkin stood frozen with horror for 
a moment, glaring at his son, then with a hiss of 
indignation he leaped into the bushes and fled. 
Henceforth he avoided the old fir tree, although 
he often met Zoe elsewhere. 
That summer was long remembered in the 
countryside as ' The year of the great drought.' 
No dew or rain fell, and the whole land leaped and 
quivered in the heat all day long. The pools and 
