away and going
like the wind. Tom lifted the gun.

"Don't shoot!" roared the Red-faced Man.

"Mind that there boy!" bellowed Giles.

I was running down between two rows of turnips and presently butted into
a lad who was bending over, I suppose to pick up a partridge. At any
rate his tail--"do you call it his tail, Mahatma?"

"That will do," I answered.

"Well, his tail was towards me; it looked very round and shiny. The shot
from Tom's gun hit it everywhere. I wish they had all gone into it, but
as he was so far away the charge scattered and six of the bullets struck
me. Oh! they did hurt. Put your hand on my back, Mahatma, and you will
feel the six lumps they made beneath the grey tufts of hair that grew
over them, for they are still there."

Forgetting that we were on the Road, I stretched out my hand; but, of
course, it went quite through the hare, although I could see the six
little grey tufts clearly enough.

"You are foolish, Hare; you don't remember that your body is not here
but somewhere else."

"Quite true, Mahatma. If it were here I could not be talking to you,
could I? As a matter of fact, I have no body now. It is--oh, never mind
where. Still, you can see the grey tufts, can't you? Well, I only hope
that those shot hurt that fat boy half as much as they did me. No, I
don't mean that I hope it now, I used to hope it."

My goodness! didn't he screech, much worse than my father when his legs
were broken. And didn't everybody else roar and shout, and didn't I
dance? Off I went right over the fat boy, who had tumbled down, up
to the end of the field, then so bewildered was I with shock and the
burning pain, back again quite close to them.

But now nobody shot at me because they all thought the boy was killed
and were gathered round him looking very solemn. Only I saw that the
Red-faced Man had Tom by the neck and was kicking him hard.

After that I saw no more, for I ran five miles before I stopped, and at
last lay down in a little swamp near the seashore to which my mother had
once taken me. My back was burning like fire, and I tried to cool it in
the soft slush.

THE COURSING

Quite a moon went by before I recovered from Tom's shot. At first I
thought that I was going to die, for, although luckily none of my bones
were broken, the pain in my back was dreadful. When I tried to ease the
agony by rubbing against roots it only became worse, for the fur fell
off, leaving sores upon which flies