the first,
which was in the snow where it struck, hoping thence to see the
hare again.

When I turned with the arrow in my hand I saw what made the hare
pay no heed to me. There was a more terrible enemy than even man on
its track. Sniffing at my footprints where they had just crossed
those of the hare was a stoat, long and lithe and cruel. I knew it
would not leave its quarry until it had it fast by the throat, and
the hare knew it also by some instinct that is not to be fathomed,
for I suppose that no hare, save by the merest chance, ever escaped
that pursuer. The creature seemed puzzled by my footprint, and sat
up, turning its sharp eyes right and left until it spied me; but
when it did so it was not feared of me, but took up the trail of
the hare again. And by that time I was ready, and my hand was
steady, and the shaft sped and smote it fairly, and the hare's one
chance had come to it. I sprang forward with the whoop of the Saxon
hunter, and took up and admired my prey, not heeding its scent at
all. It was in good condition, and I would get Stuf, the
house-carle, who was a sworn ally of mine, to make me a pouch of
it, I thought.

I mind that this was the third wild thing that I had slain. One of
the others was a squirrel who stayed motionless on a bough to stare
at me, in summer time, and the second was a rabbit which Stuf had
shown me in its seat. This was quite a different business, and I
was proud of my skill with some little reason. I should have some
real wild hunting to talk of over the fire tonight.

Then I must follow up the hare, of course, and I thrust the long
body of the stoat through my girdle, so that its head hung one way
and its tail the other, and took up the trail of the hare where my
prey had left it. Now, I cannot tell how the mazed creature learned
that its worst foe was no longer after it, but so it must have
been, else it had circled slowly in lessening rings until the stoat
had it, and presently it would have begun to scream dolefully. But
I only saw it once again, and then it seemed to be listening at
longer spaces. Yet it took me a long way before it suddenly fled
altogether, as its footmarks told me. A forest-bred lad learns
those signs soon enough, if he is about with the woodmen in snow
time.

Then I turned to make my way home, following my own track for a
little way. That was crooked, and I went to take a straighter path,
and after that I was fairly lost.

Yet I held on, hopin