anny. Yet, had he been an
early riser, he might have seen it often. Even as he watched it, it
seemed to shrink away before the sunshine. The hedgerow loomed like a
mountain-ridge before him. Down he slid, making a bee-line for the nest.
That was all right; but his wife was evidently perturbed. Her mouth was
full of grass-blades, and she was sealing every crevice on its surface. In
five minutes he was up aloft once more. The whirring still continued, and
now, through the lifting haze, he could distinguish its origin. Horses it
was for certain, ay, and men--a small man sat upon the leading horse; but
there was something behind these.

Had the harvest mouse ever seen a windmill, he would assuredly have
concluded that a young one had escaped, and was walking in ever-narrowing
circuits, round the field. The mist lifted further, and he saw the thing
more clearly. Its great red arms swung dark against the sky, gathering the
corn in a giant's grasp to feed its ravenous cutters. Round and round the
field it went. Each time as it travelled to the distant corners the mouse
dropped down to earth; each time as it thundered close at hand, he dashed
like lightning up the stalk to look. Sometimes his wife came with him.
Closer it drew and closer. Nor was the mouse the only thing that noticed
it. All things that lived within the field, all things that loved its
borders, were crowding in mad confusion to its centre.

[Illustration: THE MOUSE CREPT TWO GRAINS HIGHER WHEN HE SAW HIM.]

First came the hare. His was a wild, blundering, panic-stricken stampede.
He hurtled through the corn, crossing his fore feet at every second leap,
his eyes starting backwards from his head, his ears pressed flat against
his back. He passed the harvest mouse heading for the farther side, and
the harvest mouse saw him no more, for he broke cover, trusting to his
speed. Then, one by one, bewildered rabbits. Backwards and forwards they
rushed. Now they sat up and listened; now they flung their white tails
skywards, and vanished down some friendly seeming alley. In two minutes
they were headed off.

Among the rabbits, of all things, a stoat! The mouse crept two grains
higher when he saw him. He stole in and out the undergrowth with easy
confidence, yet in some sense unstoatlike. The mouse looked down, and
for a moment caught his eye--the most courageous eye in all the world.
Something was very wrong indeed with the stoat--he never even bared his
teeth.

Nex