as their strength grew, without encountering even in these extended excursions any enemy more formidable than an old badger, who never dreamt of pursuit. It is true that he looked hard at them, but only because of his surprise at seeing survivors of a race which he thought extinct. The instant he satisfied himself they really were hares, he resumed his grunting and crossed the ridge on the way to his earth.

At the first faint blush in the east the hares sped towards the pool that fills the hollow between Bartinney and Chapel Carn Brea. There near the edge of the water the leverets confused their trails and chose their seats. This they did under the eyes of their mother, who watched interestedly from the slope where she lay amongst the heather. As it proved, no precautions were necessary, for no creature came near; indeed, nothing disturbed the drowsy stillness till late in the day, when a breeze sprang up that sent the water in tiny wavelets against the rushy shore. This immunity from molestation was the result of the hare’s knowledge of the ways of her enemies, of their retreats, and especially of the times of their coming and going. At every outing they crossed the foul line left by some marauder on its way to the lowland, but—those of the badger excepted—never a homing trail; for the hares were settled in their forms before fox, polecat, and stoat came slinking back to their lairs.

But not even the hare, with cunning quickened by the dependence of her young, could provide against every contingency. On the fourth day of their stay by the pool, when they were back in their seats around the green, they were discovered and attacked by a bloodthirsty little creature that was abroad foraging in the very middle of the morning. The hare’s suspicions were first aroused by the angry cries of some small birds in the corner of the nearest field. Soon the demonstration grew more and more distinct, showing that the birds were pursuing the object of their displeasure in the direction of the green. From the first the noise attracted the attention of the magpie. Immediately he saw the birds he cocked his head, now this way now that, as if beholding the most interesting sight of his life. And a strange sight it certainly was; for, accompanied by linnets and finches that fluttered over it, there came with the quick movement of its kind, a weasel, seemingly quite indifferent to the mobbing it received. As soon as it appeared the hare quivered in every limb; but there was no shiver of fear, for when presently the little miscreant scented the jack and stood on its hind legs screaming, to paralyse him with terror, she bounded across the green, and with a stroke of a forepad sent the animal flying into the water. Undaunted, and enraged at this treatment, the weasel now confronted the hare herself, only to be knocked over, trampled on, and spurned to the middle of the green, where it lay on its back kicking as though its last hour was come. Whereupon the magpie, who, considering the weasel too insignificant for his intervention, had hitherto held its tongue, chattered loudly as if to applaud the deed; whilst the hare, whose blood was up, remained within a yard of the weasel, ready to renew the battle should it again show fight. Braver still, the linnet whose eggs the weasel had been sucking, as was evident from the stain on its muzzle, stood within a few inches and upbraided it for the wrong done her, and, frail thing though she was, scarcely deigned to move when shortly it regained its feet and made for the hill. It was not allowed to sneak away unattended; birds and hare—strange allies—accompanied the discomfited little wretch past the spring to the heather, where it wormed its way amongst the stems and hid itself from view. Then the linnets and finches, having avenged their friend, flew back to their thickets; and the hare, crouching low as if frightened now by her own shadow, stole to her form. The magpie still perched on the spray from which he had witnessed the scene. The arch-rogue had thoroughly enjoyed every phase of it, and now that it was over he was all alive, quizzing the spots where the hare and the leverets lay, as if trying to get a view of them amidst the cover. At last he too flew away; then no trace remained of the participators in the drama but a tiny feather that lay where the linnet had stood.

The visit of the weasel had its consequences, for the hare, fearing that the creature would return when she was away foraging, resolved to take the leverets with her at setting-out time, and after she had regained her composure she sat planning the round she would lead them.

EDUCATION

The low summons of the hare drew the leverets to her side, and when she set out they followed close at her heels. Late as she was in starting, she picked her way down the rough foothills very slowly and with extreme caution; indeed, so halting was her advance, so mistrustful was she of every rock and bush, that she might have been Fear herself leading her offspring past ambuscades. But the moment she set foot on the reclaimed land—the field where the linnet was roosting by her empty nest—she quickened her steps and passed rapidly from enclosure to enclosure, the novices wondering at the smoothness of the ground and shrinking from the shadows cast by the gates under which they crept.

Soon the little band entered the grassy lane which led past the magpie’s elder to the farmhouse, and there the leverets got a scare from some fowls packed as close as they could sit on a limb of the solitary sycamore. The birds mistook the hares for foxes, and in their panic dislodged the rooster from his perch. The extraordinary noise he made, as with a great flapping of wings he fell to the ground, frightened the leverets almost out of their lives; in their terror they pressed so close to their mother’s side that the three were for a moment jammed in the gap by which they entered the neighbouring pasture. But the leverets showed no fear of the kine that lay there chewing their cud, or of the ewes and lambs in the next enclosure but one, passing in and out amongst them as unconcernedly as if born and reared in their midst. In the adjoining field the wanderers remained to feed on the abundant crop of clover, which furnished so sumptuous a feast for the leverets after the poor herbage of the green that they would have eaten to excess had not their mother called them off. It was not that, however, which made her lead them away, but her eagerness to show them the country and teach them all she knew. Moreover, she was anxious to acquaint them with their powers, especially with their ability to swim, for it would stand them in good stead when pressed by enemies, as she knew by experience.

So, on leaving the clover, she made in the direction of the moorland pool to which her mother had led her when young, where, owing to the absence of all but the scantiest cover, no enemy could approach unobserved. Annoyed at having to leave the clover, the leverets