cautious reconnoitre at the edge of the plantation in which she has found a safe asylum. For a moment she halts as if undecided what course to adopt. To spring across the mossy bank which lies between the cover and the hay field would only be the work of a few seconds; but she dreads the enactment of a tragedy. Her timidity is short-lived. Hunger sharpens the appetite. Gathering boldness, she emerges from her retreat in one quick, nervous leap. Nor is she bound upon an uncertain course. Forthwith she steers her way to a cherished nook, where, once arrived, she may crop sweet grass and luscious clover to her heart's content, surrounded by her natural mates. Meantime she is content to steal noiselessly across the broad acres that divide her pastures from her still warm bed, watching furtively every gap and corner, anxious to reach the haven for which she has set out unnoticed by any of her enemies. Foumarts are now rare in most parts of the country. They feed upon frogs and small birds. Rabbits are acceptable to them, but I doubt if they kill many hares. Weasels and stoats are mischievous to young leverets, but a fox will stalk a hare of any size, though he is not particular how he fares, and will readily feed on a dead rat.
In this country the larger birds of prey have become
