Still farther and the concentrated interest showed in
its outstretched neck and quivering tail. Bounding into a
thicket it went, when out of the other side there leaped a
snowshoe rabbit, away and away for dear life. Jump, jump, jump;
twelve feet at every stride, and faster than the eye could
follow, with the marten close behind. What a race it was, and
how they twinkled through the brush! The rabbit is, indeed,
faster, but courage counts for much, and his was low; but luck
and his good stars urged him round to the deer trail crossing of
the stream; once there he could not turn. There was only one
course. He sprang into the open river and swam for his life.
And the marten - why should it go in? It hated the water; it was
not hungry; it was out for sport, and water sport is not to its
liking. It braced its sinewy legs and halted at the very brink,
while bunny crossed to the safe woods.
Back now came Wahpestan, the brown death, over the logs like a
winged snake, skimming the ground like a sinister shadow, and
heading for the cabin as the cabin's owner watched. Passing the
body of the squirrel it paused to rend it again, then diving into
the brush came out so far away and so soon that the watcher
supposed at first that this was another marten.
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