at the top of the Crag.

Getting down into the oak-scrub, I stood within the deep shadows at the
base of the great rock, and gave the signal--a harsh, unmusical cry,
such as a hungry young owl would utter at that time of the evening.

The cry had scarcely gone forth, when I was startled by a voice from
some hollow quite close to my side: "I'm Philip. Don't move--don't
speak. A man's watching you from the blackthorns at the top of the wood.
He hasn't seen me. Don't look his way, but walk along the path below,
and when you reach the end of the wood turn up and hide in the
cross-hedges, so that you can watch him if he comes out anywhere in the
open. And, mind, don't let him see you then. If he goes back to the
farm, give the signal again; or, if I give two hoots, one about ten
seconds after the other, come to me, but don't pass this place. The
fellow isn't of much account, but we must get rid of him before I can
stir. He's kept me here for the last half-hour."

Philip ceased speaking, and I walked carelessly down the wood, pausing
here and there to peep through a patch of undergrowth and to satisfy
myself that the man at the top of the wood had not moved. When outside
the wood, I turned rapidly up the hill and found an excellent hiding
place among some brambles on a thick hedge. From this spot I could
command a view of the meadows above the wood, and could easily retreat
unseen if the farm labourer happened to come towards me.

I watched patiently for twenty minutes or so, then heard Philip's
welcome signal from a fir-spinney on the far side of the Crag, and
hastened to his side. In reply to my question as to what had become of
the man who had watched from the blackthorn thicket, he pointed to the
opposite hillside, where a dim figure could be seen ascending the
ploughland in the direction of a distant farmstead. "I expect to be able
to show you a badger to-night," he said, "but of course I'm not sure
about it. A badger's comings and goings are as uncertain as the weather.
But first we'll climb further up the hill. You were asking me about the
leaping places of the hares: I know of one of these leaping places, and
I think I know of two hares that use them and have lately 'kittled' in
snug little 'forms' not far away. We must hurry, else the does will have
left the leverets and gone to feed in the clover. You go first. Wait for
me in the furze by the pond on the very top of the hill."

When Philip had rejoined me on th