170 
Feb. io, 1912 
plenty o’ standin’ timber? There ain't any houses 
there for close to five miles, so nobody can hear 
if we shoot a few times, and so get the idea 
that it’d be a good stunt to turn us in at the 
office for disturbin’ the peace. Welt, that sec¬ 
tion’s plumb full o’ rabbits, and just between me 
and you it’s one 0’ the best places in this part 
of Ohio for partridges. 
“I’d seen quite a few bunnies at night on the 
right-of-way there durin’ the fall, but didn’t 
think much about ’em; we get used to havin’ 
the searchlight surprise animals of different sorts 
along the tracks. But a couple o’ weeks ago I 
read a story in one o’ the Cleveland papers about 
rabbits likin’ to come out on moonlight nights 
when there’s snow on the ground and sorter 
play around in little clearin’s—gambolin’, the 
paper called it. The thing sounded reasonable 
enough to me—like to dance myself out at the 
park when there’s a moon—and rabbits are 
kinder light-headed little fools, anyway. So I 
showed the story to Bert and says to him: Tf 
them Cleveland rabbits like to gambol in clear¬ 
in’s by the light o’ the moon, why wouldn’t ours? 
The right-of-way’s about the only place from 
Pine Gap to Stop 37 that ain’t covered with trees 
or brush, and looks to me like it oughter make 
a bully dancin’ pavillion for ’em. Let’s try and 
get some after the first snow. You can smuggle 
your old blunderbuss aboard and do the shootin’ 
out the front window while I run the car.’ 
“Bert’s a keen gunner, and he took me on 
quicker’n a fuse blowin’ out, so last Tuesday 
night we got busy.” The motorman stopped to 
indulge in one of those quiet chuckles that al¬ 
ways made his big, squarely-built frame shake. 
“Say!” he resumed, “it was a shame to take 
the money. When we left the Gap about 12:45 
there wasn’t a single passenger on board to give 
us away, so Bert rigged up his old pump gun 
and, come out on the front end with me. I 
eased the car along slow-like, and you never 
did see a better jack lamp than that old search¬ 
light made. Them rabbits was—but you’d find 
out soon what sort o’ fun we had. The snow’s 
nice and dry, so they won’t get wet feet, and this 
moon ’ll sure make ’em gambol for fair.” 
By this time the two lone passengers had long 
since been left at their destination, and the 
Limited was humming steadily along through 
the open country. Fence, field and woodland 
swept rearward in rapid procession, ghostly in 
their mantles of feathery white; silent farm¬ 
houses slumbered among guardian orchards. 
Ahead, the beam from the big reflector seemed 
to seek out and throw into sharp silhouette each 
wayside pole, every darker tree and bush and 
jutting rock. At a curve the searching finger of 
light left the rails and dwelt an instant on the 
glistening cascade of a little brook that tumbled 
over a broken ledge from some hidden pond 
above. For a moment the falling spray, the pro¬ 
jecting rocks with their rounded caps of glisten¬ 
ing ice, the dark, snow-rimmed pool below and 
its sentinel pine stood out vividly as in a flash¬ 
light. Then they faded into the night as the 
light passed slowly on. 
“Best get out your gun; Pine Gap’s just 
ahead,” Williams broke a long silence. 
The front-end man started. The mystery of 
the weird, swiftly-changing scene had cast a sort 
of spell over him. It was as if he had been 
standing in a darkened room gazing at a white 
screen on which a stereopticon threw vivid pic¬ 
FOREST AND STREAM 
tures. But instantly now he was alert. Gun and 
shells were quickly taken from the innocent¬ 
looking suit-case, and Bert helped carry them 
to the forward platform. 
He is a compact, wiry man, is Bert, with close- 
cropped black mustache and a boxer’s set to his 
shoulders—the sort of fellow that gives the im¬ 
pression of being constantly poised on the balls 
of his feet, ready for anything that may hap¬ 
pen. Evidently he knew guns, for as the twelve 
closed with the smooth,, solid snap of perfectly 
fitting parts, he grunted approvingly, “Good gun, 
that. Betcher she throws a pretty pattern, even 
if she is small. Mind my lookin’ at her?” 
The gun was willingly passed .over for inspec¬ 
tion, while Williams said: “Lower that front 
window and stand pretty close up so’s you’ll be 
able to shoot out to the side a little; generally 
the little cusses are dead ahead, but once in a 
while one of ’em ’ll take a notion to skip off 
sideways before you c’n pip him. Watch out 
now—we’re liable to see one any minute.” 
The Limited rumbled across a trestle and at 
reduced speed entered a long level stretch walled 
in by close-standing hemlocks and laurel. 
“There’s two of ’em,” suddenly muttered Bert 
from his position on Williams’ right. Far ahead 
along the right-of-way two shadowy forms bob¬ 
bed an instant in the searchlight’s rays, then 
leaped for the shelter of the woods. 
Bert swore fervently. “Ain’t generally as wild 
as that. Must be a couple o’ the ones I missed 
the other night; bashful about bein’ in the lime¬ 
light.” 
Steadily the car glided on through the silent 
woods. The nipping air streamed in above the 
lowered g'ass, chilling the three men a little de¬ 
spite their heavy clothing. Soon the hemlocks 
gave way to brushy swamps, through which the 
track ran on a low embankment. For a mile the 
right-of-way led straight—a narrow, level path¬ 
way, silvery white in the soft rays of the moon. 
“Along here’s where we had the best luck,” 
said the motorman. “These marshes are chuck 
full of”—he broke off abruptly as a rabbit curved 
suddenly from out a wild rose tangle, landed on 
the embankment close before the car, and after 
one frightened glance, sped with long leaps 
straight away between the rails. With the sharp, 
insistent “pow” of the nitro, the bounding form 
spun over and over in a scatter of disturbed 
snow. Williams brought the car to a stop a few 
feet away, and Bert swung off to retrieve the game. 
“Funny thing about the way the little beg¬ 
gars act,” he remarked, returning with a fine, 
fat buck. “Sometimes they’ll run right toward 
you as fast as this one was runnin’ away, and 
then again they’ll sit as still as a girl readin’ a 
love story ’till you’re plumb on top of ’em. Lots 
o’ times we’ve run over ’em when the car was 
slippin’ along pretty fast—they get sorter hypno¬ 
tized by the light, I reckon.” 
Hardly was the Limited under way again when 
two more rabbits went twisting and dodging 
across the tracks some twenty yards ahead. A 
scant six feet separated the flitting shadows, and 
the two reports from the car platform were al¬ 
most simultaneous. 
“Ha!” ejaculated the conductor with evident 
satisfaction, as he saw the second rabbit crumple 
up and join his companion on the slope of the 
embankment. “Guess you must ’ve been brought 
up on quail.” Again the car stopped to let Bert 
play retriever. 
Only one more chance offered during the next 
half mile, and then the Limited left the marshes 
behind and passed into a different type of coun¬ 
try. The hills were higher here, and down the 
narrow ravines between them twisting lines of 
unbroken white showed where trout brooks mur¬ 
mured beneath their blankets of ice and snow. 
Stretches of hardwood were interspersed with 
dark groves of hemlocks, to whose drooping 
branches still clung the snow which had fallen 
the day before. Under the hazel bushes beside 
the track lay the delicate blue-black tracery of 
twig and branch, sharply etched upon the spark¬ 
ling white. Down from a wooded gorge floated 
the clear, deep “whoo, hoo-hoo-hoo, whoo!” of 
a great horned owl. The still air tingled with 
frost. 
As the car coasted quieth^ down a gentle in¬ 
cline, the ever watchful Williams detected a 
faint, shadowy something far ahead, where the 
rays from the headlight merged with the night. 
The dim form soon resolved itself into a cotton¬ 
tail, crouching motionless with wonder as he 
watched the strange approaching glare. The car 
was barely crawling now, and under the skillful 
handling of the airbrakes it made scarcely a 
sound. “Don’t shoot!” whispered Williams. 
“Let s see what he’ll do when we get close.” 
Nearer and nearer they crept until the reflec¬ 
tion of the light in the little fellow’s eyes, and 
even the curious quivering and wrinkling of his 
nose, were clearly visible. When no more than 
a dozen feet separated the huddled bunny from 
the source of his wonderment, an odd whim 
seized Bert. With a smooth, swift motion his 
left hand shot out to the whistle cord, and three 
shrill, staccato blasts ripped the stillness and 
echoed away among the hills. 
With the first one, the terrified rabbit appeared 
to shrink to half his former size; the long, in¬ 
quiring ears dropped and lay flat along the neck; 
his whole form tensed, and he crouched closer 
to the snow. For the briefest instant he was 
literally “scared stiff.” Then, as the paralyzed 
nerves awoke to life again, he cleared the rails 
in one frantic leap and headed for cover. 
Five minutes later the front-end man scored 
again, and then passed the gun to Bert, whose 
trigger finger was itching. Quick results fol¬ 
lowed the exchange, for soon after the conductor 
had taken his place at the open window, three 
dodging sprites hopped into the pathway of light 
and chased each other about unconcernedly until 
the gun’s roar abruptly ended their game of tag. 
In a winding gorge where steep rocks flanked 
the tracks one more was added to the little pile 
in the corner of the platform, and then Williams 
glanced regretfully at his watch. 
“Guess we’ll have to call it off, boys,” he 
sighed. “We’re fifteen minutes behind schedule 
now, and there’s a call-down waitin’ at Smoke 
City if we get there late. Better close that 
window, ’cause I’m goin’ to let her flicker the 
rest o’ the way.” 
“He shoved forward the controller, and the 
crescendo whine of the motors rose higher and 
higher until it merged into the roar of the flying 
car. Faster and faster rushed the big Limited, 
taking the long, well-banked curves smoothly, 
like an express train. They shot through a rocky 
cut where the narrow walls hurled the tumult 
back like a heavy weight against the ear drums 
of the three men, and out again across wide 
reaches of frozen meadow. 
