ater; and, had she passed the place at any time before, the rain would
have washed away the marks in such an open spot, or, at any rate, would
have blurred them beyond recognition.

After placing a white stone by the footprints to indicate their
whereabouts, I searched along the river-bed for signs that would show a
track towards the bank; but not a single mark could be found pointing in
that direction. It was obvious that the hare had not left the island
till, at any rate, some hours after the rain. Then, however, the sun
would have been so high that Puss would have been loath to leave her
lair. Faintly discernible beside a large pebble, one other footprint
appeared, leading like the rest towards the island. The mark was old,
and had been saved from obliteration by the sheltering stone; but it
suggested that the hare had made her home not far away. Taught by
experience, I decided not to penetrate the copse and risk disturbing its
probable tenant. I approached it only so far as to examine another bare
place in a line with the footprints on the mud, where, to my delight, I
found fresh footprints similar to those at the dried-up ford, together
with other and much smaller marks undoubtedly made by a tiny leveret.

I now re-crossed the ford and went home. But before nightfall I
returned, and, hiding behind the hedgerow on the bank, watched, unseen,
the approach to the island. My patience was soon rewarded. Just as the
dusk was deepening over the woodlands, "the slit-eared hare" left her
"form" and stood in full view by the ford. There, having lazily
stretched her long, supple limbs, she played awhile with her leveret,
sometimes pausing to nibble a few clover-leaves as if to direct the
little one's attention towards its suitable food. Then she ambled
leisurely across the river-bed, and, with graceful, swinging gait,
passed through the meadow beyond--while her offspring disappeared within
the thickets of the island.

The hot weather broke up in July, and henceforth, till late September,
rain descended almost every day. The shower that had revealed the
whereabouts of the hare was the first sign of the change. On the
following night, a thunderstorm broke over the countryside, washed down
the soil from the pastures, and sent the river roaring in flood through
the gorge. While on the far side of the island the main torrent raged
past beneath the willows, the divided stream under the near bank formed
salmon-pools and trout-reach