e upon him from
behind.

As the hole was small the rabbit's body completely filled it, and the
ferret could not scramble past to get at the spot behind the ear where
it usually seizes. The ferret had therefore deliberately gnawn away the
hindquarters and so bored a passage. The ferret being so gorged was
useless for further hunting and was replaced in the bag. But Little John
gave him a drink of water first from the bottom of the ditch.

Orion and I, wearied with the digging, now insisted on removing to the
next bury, for we felt sure that the remaining rabbits in this one would
not bolt. Little John had no choice but to comply, but he did so with
much reluctance and many rueful glances back at the holes from which he
took the nets. He was sure, he said, that there were at least
half-a-dozen still in the bury: he only wished he might have all that he
could get out of it. But we imperiously ordered a removal.

We went some thirty yards down the mound, passing many smaller buries,
and chose a spot perfectly drilled with holes. While Little John was in
the ditch putting up nets, we slily undid the ferret-bag and turned
three ferrets at once loose into the holes. 'Lor! measter, measter, what
be you at?' cried Little John, quite beside himself. 'You'll spoil all
on it. Lor!'

A sharp report as Orion fired at a rabbit that bolted almost under
Little John's fingers drowned his remonstrances, and he had to scramble
out of the way quick. Bang! bang! right and left: the firing became
rapid. There being no nets to alarm the rabbits and three ferrets
hunting them, they tumbled out in all directions as fast as we could
load. Now the cartridges struck branches and shattered them. Now the
shot flattened itself against sarsen stones imbedded in the mound. The
rabbits had scarce a yard to bolt from one hole to another, so that it
was sharp work.

Little John now gave up all hope, and only pleaded piteously for his
ferrets. 'Mind as you doan't hit 'em, measter; doant'ee shoot into a
hole, you.' For half an hour we had some really good shooting: then it
began to slacken, and we told him to catch his ferrets and go on to the
next bury. I am not sure that he would not have rebelled outright but
just then a boy came up carrying a basket of provisions, and a large
earthenware jar with a bung cork, full of humming ale. Farmer Willum had
sent this, and the strong liquor quite restored Little John's good
humour. It really was ale--such as