est of some ground-bird. Along parallel with the fence he
hunted, keeping out about a foot from the lowest rail. He found no nest;
but suddenly the owners of a nest that was hidden somewhere in the
neighbourhood found him. He felt himself buffeted by swift, elusive
wings. Sharp little beaks jabbed him again and again, and the air seemed
full of angry twittering. For a few moments he stood his ground
obstinately, wrinkling back his long snout and jumping at his
bewildering assailants. Then, realizing that he could do nothing against
such nimble foes, he drew back and ran under the fence. He was not
really hurt, and he was not at all terrified; but he was distinctly
beaten, and therefore in a very bad temper.

[Illustration: "THE BAFFLED SHREW JUMPED STRAIGHT INTO THE AIR."]

Since his return to the green upper world ill luck had persistently
followed his ventures, and now his thoughts turned back to the burrows
under the grass-roots. He remembered, also, that mole which had so
inexplicably evaded him. Keeping close to the fence, he hurried back to
the stone heap, on the other side of which lay the entrance to the
burrows. He was just about to make a hurried and final investigation of
the pile, on the chance that it might conceal something to his taste,
when his nose caught a strong scent which made him stop short and seem
to shrink into his skin. At the same instant a slim, long, yellow-brown
animal emerged from the stones, cast a quick, shifting glance this way
and that, then darted at him as smoothly as a snake. With a frantic leap
he shot through the air, alighting just beside the mouth of the burrow.
The next instant he had vanished; and the weasel, arriving just a second
too late, thrust his fierce, triangular face into the hole, but made no
attempt to squeeze himself down a passage so restricted.

The shrew had been terrified, indeed; but his dogged spirit was by no
means cowed or given over to panic. He felt fairly confident that the
weasel was too big to pursue him down the burrow, but presently he
stopped, scraped away the earth on one side, and turned around to face
the menace. Small though he was, the weasel would have found him a
troublesome and daring antagonist in such narrow quarters. When he saw a
glimmer of light reappear at the entrance of the burrow, he understood
that his big enemy was not going to attempt the impossible. Reassured,
but still hot with wrath, he turned again, and went racing through t