the sea, where is the sea? Where are my brother Petrels?"
Then he flapped one little wing feebly, for the other had been dashed
by the gale against a branch and broken, and gasped once more and lay
quite still; nor, though the deer gazed at him for long, did he ever
speak or move again. So when they had fed, the deer moved back to the
shelter of the combe and lay down there once more; and as the morning
grew the rain ceased, though the wind blew nearly as hard as ever. But
it was still a good hour before noon when the Hare suddenly jumped up
and stole out of the combe. A minute after her the Fox stood up,
listened for a moment, and stole out likewise, and almost directly
after him the deer all sprang to their feet; for they heard the deep
note of the hounds and saw their white bodies dashing into the combe
full of eagerness and fire. And if any one tells you that it is
incredible that Deer, Fox, and Hare should all be lying together as I
have said, you may tell him from me that I saw them with my own eyes
leave the combe one after another by the same path, on just such a
wild morning as I have described.

The deer moved quickly on to the hill and began to run away together;
but presently Aunt Yeld, and Ruddy and her Calf, and our Hind and her
Calf separated from the rest, and went away at a steady pace, for as
old Aunt Yeld said, "No hound can travel fast over Dunkery stones."
And, indeed, so fond was the old lady of these stones that, when she
got to the edge of them, she turned back over them again and took
Ruddy with her. But our Hind and her Calf moved away a mile or two
towards the forest, and finding no hounds in chase of them stopped and
rested.

But after half an hour or more Aunt Yeld came galloping up to them
alone, very anxious though not the least tired, and said, "I can't
shake them off. Come along quick!" Then they found that the hounds
were hard at their heels, and away they went, in the teeth of the
gale, at their best pace. And the Calf kept up bravely, for he was
growing strong, but they were pressed so hard that presently Aunt Yeld
left them and turned off by herself. Then by bad luck some of the
hounds forsook her line for that of his mother and himself, and drove
them so fast that for the first time in their lives they were obliged
to part company, and he was left quite alone. So on he ran by himself
till he came to a familiar little peat-stream, which was boiling down
over the stones like a torre