g an
attack in the rear. For two hours, the game little dog, avoiding each
clumsy charge and yet not giving the badger a moment's peace, remained
close by, while the men cut further and further into the "set," till
they stood in the first deep chamber through which the terrier had
passed. Then the terrier came out to quench his thirst, and was led away
by the huntsman to the river, while the second dog was speedily
despatched to earth, that the badger might be allowed no breathing space
during which he could bury himself beyond the reach of further attack.
The second dog, on coming to the junction of the passage and the
gallery, chose the alternative line of scent in the gallery, and
wandered far away into the chamber where Brock, whose family had
descended some time before to the winter "oven," awaited his coming.
When the faint barking of the second terrier told that the badger had
seemingly shifted his quarters to an almost incredible distance from the
trench, the faces of the Squire and his assistants evinced no little
surprise. For a moment, the men were inclined to believe that the dog
was "marking false," but, presently, their doubts were dispelled, and
their hopes revived, as the sounds indicated that the terrier,
contesting hotly every inch of the way, was retreating towards them
before his enraged enemy. The labourers resumed work, though not with
the confidence of the early morning, when their task seemed lighter than
the experienced Master would admit. Hour after hour they toiled; the
dogs were often changed; and at last the trench was long enough to be
within a yard or so of the spot where the dog was engaged. Then, to the
mortification of the sportsmen, the sounds of the conflict suggested
another change: Brock was retiring leisurely to his chamber. The
earth-drill was soon put into play, and the badger's position
discovered, but directly afterwards the animal again moved, this time to
the deep "oven" below.

Night was now rapidly closing over the woods, and the weary,
disappointed men and dogs reluctantly gave up their task. The Squire
admitted that on this occasion, at any rate, he was fairly and squarely
beaten. Brock and his mate are still in possession of the old burrow
beyond the farm; and Brock's sire, a patriarch among badgers, lives, as
the comrade of another old male, among the boulders of a rugged hillside
a mile from the "set."

THE HEDGEHOG.

I.

A VAGABOND HUNTER.

At the lowe