d disastrously. Two of
the nurslings died a few hours after birth; one, venturing from the nest
too soon in the evening, was killed by a magpie; and two, while sitting
out near the hedge, were trampled to death by a flock of sheep rushing,
panic-stricken, at the sight of a wandering fox. By the middle of May,
when another vole family of six had arrived, the number of vermin in the
valley had perceptibly diminished. The old, asthmatic keeper in charge
of the Cerdyn valley died, and a younger and more energetic man from a
neighbouring estate came to take his place. Eager to gain the favour of
his master by providing him good sport in the coming autumn, the new
keeper ranged the woods from dawn till dusk, setting pole-traps in the
trees, or baiting rabbit-traps in the "creeps" of stoat or weasel, and
destroying nests, as well as shooting any furred or feathered creature
of questionable character. The big brown owl from the beech-grove, the
kestrel from the rock on the far side of the brook, the sparrow-hawk
from the spinney up-stream, together with the weasels, the stoats, the
cats, the jays, and the magpies--all in turn met their doom.

A pair of barn-owls from the loft in the farm suffered next. These owls
were great pets at the old homestead. For many years they had lived
unmolested in their gloomy retreat under the tiles, and regularly at
nightfall had flown fearlessly to and fro among the outbuildings, or
perched on the ruined pigeon-cote watching for the rats to leave their
holes.

The farmer, less ignorant than the keeper, recognised the owls as
friends, and treated them accordingly. They were his winged cats, and
assisted to check the increase of a plague. Like the brown owl, they
knew well the habits of the voles; but their attention was diverted by
the rats and the mice at the farm, and they seldom wandered far afield
except for a change of diet or to stretch wings cramped by a long summer
day's seclusion. The rats, however, were far from being exterminated;
and so, when a little child who was all sunshine to his parents in the
lonely homestead died from typhoid fever, the village doctor, fearing an
epidemic, advised that the pests should be utterly destroyed. Loath to
use strychnine, since he knew that in a neighbouring valley some owls
had died from eating poisoned rats, the farmer sought the aid of the
village poachers, who, with their terriers and ferrets, thoroughly
searched the stacks and the buildings. Du