ed about to
reassure himself, then came out and stared again.

The valley was an open space in the woods, with wooded hills all about
it except on the east, where it stretched away toward the fields and
scattered farmsteads of the settlement. It had once been cleared, but
young seedlings of birch and poplar and maple, with willows along the
course of a hidden stream, had been suffered to partly reclaim it.
Here and there a group of dark fir or hemlock stood out among the
slenderer saplings. Now, all this valley was transmuted to crystal.
The soft white surface of the snow was overlaid with a sheet of
transparent silver, flashing white light and cold but coloured fire.
Every bush and tree was a miracle of frostwork, lavish, inexhaustible,
infinitely varied, and of an unspeakable purity wherever it failed to
catch the young light. But that light, spreading pink and yellow and
rose from the growing radiance upon the eastern horizon, seemed to
penetrate everywhere, reflected and re-reflected from innumerable
facets; and every ray seemed to come from the live heart of a jewel.
Each icy tree and bush emitted thin threadlike flames, high and aerial
in tone, but of a piercing intensity. It was as if the quiet valley
had been flooded all at once with dust of emerald and opal, of
sapphire and amethyst and diamond. And as the light grew the miracle
changed slowly, one keen gleam dying out as another flashed into life.

Having convinced himself that this dazzling and mysterious world was
really the world he knew, the rabbit thought no more about it, but
went leaping gaily over the radiant crust (which was just strong
enough to support him) toward some young birches, where he proposed to
nibble a breakfast. As he went, suddenly a curious sound just under
his feet made him jump wildly aside. Trembling, but consumed with
curiosity, he stared down at the glassy surface. In a moment the sound
was repeated. It was a sharp, impatient tapping against the under side
of the crust. To the rabbit's ears the sound conveyed no threat, so he
hopped nearer to investigate. What he saw beneath the clear shell of
ice was a cock-partridge, his wings half-spread, his head thrown back
in the struggle to break from his snowy grave. His curiosity
satisfied, the rabbit bounded away again, and fell to nibbling the
young birch-twigs. Of small concern to him was the doom of the
imprisoned bird.

At dusk of the preceding evening, when the cock-partridge wen