d in case the fox returned. If he remained where
he was the fox might pass so far toward the other side that he would not
even see him, to say nothing of getting a shot, whereas if he could find
a place farther in which would command a fairly open view in all
directions the chances of the animal passing unseen would be greatly
reduced. Slightly back of his present position and a good rifle shot in
to the swamp he noted a small mound crowned by a clump of young birches.
He decided to take his stand there and await developments. Silently but
vigorously he swung his arms to restore circulation, then picking up his
rifle and shoes he made his way quickly toward the new stand, taking the
utmost care not to snap a twig or make the least noise.

As he entered the clump of birches a white form leaped out from the
lower side, ran ten or twelve yards and sat up, looking back with eyes
in which fear and curiosity were strangely blended. It was a hare, or
so-called snow-shoe rabbit, and a big one. Slowly and carefully Sparrer
put down his shoes and then straightened up and raised his rifle.
Silently he brought the sights to bear on the motionless white form. His
finger was already on the trigger when he remembered the fox. A shot now
would effectually put an end to any possibility of getting the prince of
fur bearers that day, and what was a rabbit compared with the latter?

Oddly enough the old adage "A bird in the hand is worth two in the
bush" popped into his head, but this time the one in the bush was of so
much greater value that he promptly decided to let the one in hand go.
At that distance he couldn't miss, for he had readjusted the sights and
he had but to press the trigger to put an end to bunny. A little sigh
escaped him as he lowered the rifle. The lowering of that rifle was the
hardest thing he had done for a long time. It required considerable
power of self-restraint. The fox might not come back, and if he did
might not offer a shot, or he might miss him. Then the chances were that
he would have to return to the cabin empty handed.

With the lowering of the rifle the rabbit dropped to a crouch, thumped
the snow smartly, and then slowly hopped away to a point twenty yards
distant in the direction in which the fox had gone, and there crouched
under a bush, an inconspicuous lump of white. Sparrer noted with
satisfaction that she was still within good range, and made up his mind
that if there were no signs of the fox wit