the damp moss. Suddenly realizing that he was ravenously hungry, he glanced around on every side, confidently expecting to see his accustomed rations ready to hand. It took him several minutes to convince himself that his expectation was a vain one. Truly, life had changed indeed. He would have to find his food for himself. He rose slowly, stretched himself, opened his jaws in a terrific yawn, and set forth on the novel quest.
And now it was that Mishi's inherited woodlore fully woke up and came effectively to his aid. Instead of crashing his way through the bushes, careless as to who should hear his coming, he crept forwards noiselessly, crouching low and snifing the night air for a scent which should promise good hunting.
Suddenly he stiffened in his tracks and stood rigid, one paw uplifted. A little animal, clearly visible to his eyes in spite of the darkness, was approaching. Resembling one of those big jackrabbits which Mishi had often chased (but never succeeded in catching) on the ranch, only much smaller, it came hopping along its runway, unconscious of danger. With an effort Mishi restrained himself from springing prematurely. Quivering with eagerness, for this was his first experience of real hunting, he waited till the rabbit was passing almost under his nose. Then out shot his great paw through the screening leafage, and the prize
