f you are accustomed to the woods and the animal nature there, you will
listen, and in a short time hear that which startled the little animals,
the cry reaching their sensitive ears long before it penetrated your
duller organs.

There it is again--a fine-drawn, shrill, piercing cry as of some animal
in trouble. This is repeated at intervals till it comes nearer and
nearer, and develops into a querulous, frightened scream uttered by some
little creature in fear or pain.

Both, say; for in another moment a fine grey rabbit comes into sight
running slowly, and looking in nowise distressed by over-exertion as it
passes on in front of where you sit, going in and out among the tree
trunks and ferns, paying no heed to the many burrows, each of which
would make a harbour of refuge and perhaps save its life, though that is
very doubtful. It might, too, you think, save itself by rushing off at
full speed, as it would if it caught sight of you, or a dog chased it.
But no, it goes on running slowly, uttering at times its terrified
scream, which you hear again and again long after the rabbit has
disappeared--a cry which seems to say: "It's all over; I am marked down,
and though I keep on running, I can never get away. It will catch me
soon."

And it is so, for poor bunny is doomed. He is being hunted down by a
remorseless enemy who is on his scent, and now comes into sight in turn,
running in a leisurely way exactly along the track taken by the rabbit,
though this is out of sight. There seems to be no hurry on the part of
the little, slight, snaky-looking, browny-grey animal, with its piercing
eyes, rounded ears, creamy-white breast, and black-tipped tail.

The weasel--for that it is--does not seem above an eighth of the size of
the rabbit, a kick from whose powerful hind-leg could send it flying
disabled for far enough. But the little, keen, perky-looking creature
knows that this will not be its fate, and comes loping along upon its
leisurely hunt, pausing now and then to look sharply around for danger,
and then gliding in and out among the undergrowth, leaping over
prostrate pieces of branch, and passing on in front just as the rabbit
did a few minutes before, and then disappearing among the ferns; its
keen-scented nostrils telling it plainly enough the direction in which
the rabbit has gone, though the screams might have deceived the ear.

Not long since I was witness of an instance of so-called fascination in
the hom