eep. The mother was nowhere
in sight, but the intruder shrank back with an abashed and guilty air
and ran up the nearest tree. Thence he made his way from branch to
branch, and did not return to the ground till he had put three or four
hundred yards between him and the den. He had no mind to bring
relentless doom upon his trail.

Not till he was well clear of the cedar swamp did the catamount
remember that he was hungry. The idea of being suspected of an
interest in young bear's meat had taken away his appetite. Now,
however, coming to a series of wild meadows, he lingered to hunt
meadow-mice. Among the roots of the long grass the mice had
innumerable hidden runways, through which they could travel without
danger from the hawks and owls. Crouching close to one of these
runways, the big cat would listen till a squeak or a faint scurrying
noise would reveal the passing of a mouse. Then a lightning pounce,
with paws much wider apart than in his ordinary hunting, would tear
away the frail covering of the runway, and usually show the victim
clutched beneath one paw or the other. This was much quicker as well
as craftier hunting than the more common wildcat method of lying in
wait for an hour at the door of a runway. Three of these plump
meadow-mice made the traveller a comfortable meal. Forgetting his
wrongs, he stretched himself in the full sun under the shelter of a
fallen tree, and slept soundly for an hour. Once only he awoke, when
his ears caught the beat of a hawk's wings winnowing low over his
retreat. He opened wide, fiercely bright eyes, completely alert on the
instant; but seeing the source of the sound he was asleep again
before the hawk had crossed the little meadow.

His siesta over, the exile mounted the fallen tree, dug his claws deep
into the bark, stretched himself again and again, yawned prodigiously,
and ended the exercise with a big, rasping miaow. At the sound there
was a sudden rustling in the bushes behind the windfall. Instantly the
catamount sprang, taking the risk of catching a porcupine or a skunk.
But whatever it was that made the noise, it had vanished in time; and
the rash hunter returned to his perch with a shamefaced air.

From this post of vantage on the edge of the meadows he could see the
crest of old Ringwaak dominating the forests to the south; and the
sight, for some unknown reason, drew him. Among those bleak rampikes
and rocks and dark coverts he might find a range to his liking. He