t, a flurried brood of nestling partridges, flattened to earth, and
piping dismally to one another. Time after time they passed and repassed
below him, until at last they were utterly weary, and crouched in a
huddled mass together, with uplifted hunted eyes.

Then the rats and mice and voles. House-mice and wood-mice, red voles,
and grey. Last of all, Berus the adder. Not a mouse stepped aside, as he
worked his slow, sinuous length between the cornstalks. He, too, was of
the hunted to-day.

Nearer and nearer drew the hoarse rattle of the reaper. More and more
crowded were the few yards round the harvest mice. A large brown rat
limped through, bleeding about the head. He had come in from the
firing-line, and had incompletely dodged a stone. The stoat flung its
head up as it scented him, but let him pass. He had never let a rat pass
in his life before.

* * * * *

Only a square of forty yards remained, packed from end to end with
desperate field-folk. Each prepared for its last stand in different
fashion.

[Illustration: BERUS THE ADDER MADE A FLATTENED SPIRAL OF HIS COILS.]

The rat selected a stout thistle-clump, planted his back against it, and
sat back on his haunches. Berus the adder made a flattened spiral of his
coils, and raised his head a trifle off the ground, ready to fling his
whole weight forward from the tail. The pheasant chicks ceased piping, and
lay still as death. The red voles and wood-mice dashed aimlessly to and
fro. The stump-tailed voles trusted to the ludicrous cover of the broken
ground. The stoat arched his back and bared his teeth to the gums. But
the harvest mice sat on the top of the stalk and awaited events, to all
seeming unmoved. Perhaps they were too small to be frightened. They were
certainly too small to be confident. Yet, as things turned out, the top of
the stalk was the safest place of all. Swish went the cutter. The nest was
scattered to fragments before their eyes, and the rush began.

The rabbits started it. They flattened their ears, shut their eyes, and
made a blind dash for the open. Not a rabbit escaped, for there were dogs.
The rats fared no better; they held their ground to the last, and were
mercilessly bludgeoned. The partridges were cut to pieces. Most of the
mice and voles shared their fate. The stoat died game. He charged one
yokel and routed him. Then he was set upon by three with sticks. In the
open the stoat is no match for three