ouple of Dick's terriers tied up to a
sapling close by--an ugly mongrel, half fox-half bull-terrier, and a
Dandie Dinmont--who were straining to get at it. As for Dick, he
never lifted his eyes, but went on handling Meg.

He had the gypsy's secret with animals, and the poor little bitch
hardly winced under his touch, though her under-lip was torn away,
and hung, like a red rag, by half an inch of flesh.

We had dug and listened and dug again for our badger, all the
morning. Then Dick sent his mongrel in at the hole, and the mongrel
had come forth like a projectile and sat down at a distance,
bewailing his lot. After him the Dandie went in and sneaked out
again with a fore-paw bitten to the bone. And at last Meg stepped in
grimly, and stayed. For a time there was dead silence, and then as
we pressed our ears against the turf and the violets, that were just
beginning their autumnal flowering, we heard a scuffling underground
and began to dig down to it, till the sweat streamed into our eyes.
Now Dick's wife had helped us to bring up the tools, and hung around
to watch the sport--an ugly, apathetic woman, with hair like a
horse's tail bound in a yellow rag, a man's hips, and a skirt of old
sacking. I think there was no love lost between her and Dick,
because she had borne him no children. Anyway, while Dick and I were
busy, digging like niggers and listening like Indians--for Meg didn't
bark, not being trained to the work, and all we could hear was a
_thud, thud_ now and then, and the hard breathing of the grapple--all
of a sudden the old hag spoke, for the first time that day--

"S'trewth, but I've gripped!"

Looking up, I saw her stretched along the side of the turf, with her
head resting on the lip of the badger's hole and her right arm
inside, up to the arm-pit. Without speaking again, she began to work
her body back, like a snake, the muscles swelling and sinking from
shoulder to flank in small waves. She had the strength of a horse.
Inch by inch she pulled back, while we dug around the mouth of the
hole, filling her mouth and eyes with dirt, until her arm came to
light, then the tongs she held; and then Dick spat out a mighty
oath--

"It's the _dog_ she's got!"

So it was. The woman had hold of Meg all the time, and the game
little brute had held on to the badger. Also the badger had held
_her_, and when at last his hold slipped, she was a gruesome sight.
She looked round, reproachfully, shook th