fore him were worth the
risk of a shot, so he crawled towards a gap to obtain a nearer view. To
his astonishment, when he reached the gap nothing was visible by the
thorn-bush; the leverets had vanished in the ferns. But the poacher was
artful and experienced. He hid in the undergrowth of the ditch, where,
after waiting awhile, and seeing no sign of movement in the grass, he
gave utterance to a shrill cry like that of a young hare in distress.
Five minutes passed, and the cry was repeated--tremulous, prolonged,
eloquent of helpless suffering. At intervals, the same artifice was
employed, but apparently without success.

The poacher was about to crawl from his hiding place, when suddenly,
close beside the hedgerow, the head of the doe hare came into sight.
Startled, in spite of expectation, by her sudden appearance, and excited
as he recognised the "slit-eared hare," the poacher involuntarily moved
to grasp his gun. He looked down for an instant to make sure that his
gun was in readiness, but when he lifted his eyes again the hare was
gone. Do what he might, not another glimpse of his quarry was to be
obtained, and so, half believing that he had seen a witch or that he had
dreamed, he stole away into the darkening night.

Deceived by the poacher's cries, the doe-hare had hurried home, but had
found her young alive and well. Then, scenting danger, she had vanished
with her offspring into the nearest bramble-clump, and in the deep
shadow of the hedgerow had led them safely away.

During the last year of her life, she frequented the hawthorn hedges and
the furze brakes of an estate diligently "preserved" by a lover of
Nature as a sanctuary whither the furred and feathered denizens of the
countryside might resort without fear of hounds or poachers, and where a
gun was never fired except at vermin. The winter was severe; on two
occasions snow lay thick on the ground for more than a week. But Puss
was fairly comfortable; she had her "form" on a dry, rough heap of
stones, gathered from the fields and thrown into a disused quarry near
the woods; and for four or five nights she remained at home, the snow
covering her completely but for a breathing hole in the white walls of
her tiny hut. At last, impatient of confinement, and desperately hungry,
she broke through the snow-drift, and sought the nearest root-crop
field, where, after scratching the snow from a turnip, she was able to
make a hearty meal. While returning slowly towa