I've heard
that they are always active and running about before bad weather.'

'Hope they've got another reason this time,' growled the Raven. 'Sky
looks all right.'

'It does,' replied Dick.

The two scouts looked to every point of the compass, and raked their
memories for weather signs, and compared what they remembered, but they
could see nothing wrong. The sun was going down in a perfectly clear
sky, and flooding the common with glorious light. There was no wind,
no threat of storm from any quarter: the evening was cool, calm, and
splendid.

'We'll turn in as soon as the sun's gone,' said Dick, 'and be up early
in the morning, and make a long day of it.'

Chippy nodded, and the boys watched the great orb sinking steadily
towards a long bank of purple woodland, which closed in the horizon.

'Wot's the home stretch run out at?' asked the Haven.

'The march in from here?' said Dick. 'Where's the map? We'll soon
foot it up.'

The map was spread out, and careful measurements taken. 'Rather more
than twenty-one miles,' said Dick.

Chippy whistled softly. 'We'd do it aw' right if nuthin' had happened
to yer foot,' he murmured.

'We'll do it all right as it is,' cried the Wolf. 'Do you think I'm
going to let that spoil our grand march? Not likely. I'll step it out
to-morrow, and heel-and-toe it into Bardon every inch, Chippy, my boy.'

'It's a tidy stump on a cut foot,' said the Raven soberly.

'Hallo! what's that?' said Dick, and they looked round.

A furious squealing broke out among the trees behind them, and then a
rabbit tumbled out of a bush, made a short scuttling run, and rolled
over in a heap.

Close at its heels came the bloodthirsty little weasel in full pursuit,
sprang on its prey once more, and fixed its teeth in the back of the
rabbit's head, when the squealing broke forth anew.

Up leapt the Raven and took a hand in the affair at once. He caught up
a stick of firewood, but the weasel ran away and left the rabbit
kicking on the ground. Chippy picked up the bunny and came back to the
fire.

'A good fat un, he cried, 'about three-parts grown. Good old weasel!'

'Very kind of him to go foraging for us,' laughed Dick.

'Ain't it?'--and the Raven showed the rabbit. It was not yet dead, and
Chippy at once put it out of its pain by a sharp tap on the back of its
neck with the edge of his hand. This killed it instantly.

'That's a good breakfast for us,' said Dick. 'We've got o