ICE TRAP.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 170, 20 July 1936, Page 15

ICE TRAP.

(By F. G. TURNBALL.)

A BITTER wind was blowing over the turnip field at nioonrise. It ' glazed with ice the long pools of rainwater in the furrows where a flock ] of black-faced ewes was scattered, and s it touched with hoar frost the limp and 1 sodilen leaves, hardening them until they * were as brittle as glass. , The turnips shone whitely where the i sheep had nibbled them; but other crea- < tures came to nibble here as well. Crouched in a furrow, a shadow < among shadows, Malik, a huge buck 1 hare, was feeding. His long incisors bit « off great flakes of turnip, for the chill put an edge on his appetite. Every now and then lit reared up oti ' his hindquarters with ears erect, scan- ' ning the surroundings with sharp, suspicious eyes. Malik, you see, was old, ' old and very wary. But he did not know, nor was he intended to know, that not so very far away ten little green lamps were burning—ten little moonlight eyes. And since . stoats run the furrows instead of the ridges, Malik was not likely to see them , until their bearers thought fit. Stump, the three-legged dog stoat, led ; the hunting pack; his companions were his mate and their three grown-up cubs. , For many minutes they lmcl stalked the feeding hare, nosing the trail he had laid across the furrows. Slowly and 1 with infinite caution they closed in on their unsuspecting quarry, and so per- ' feet was their approach that they were 1 within a couple of yards before Malik i saw the first green glint in the moonlit eyes of death. # # • ♦ Chilling numbness closed sickeningly round the heart of the hare, and the deadly fear-paralysis that the sight of a stoat inspires seemed to root him to the ground. He shrunk with terror, and a dull glaze drew over his bulging eyes. His mouth opened as though he would utter some sound, and a piece of turnip dropped from his teeth to steam for a moment when it fell on his paw. The touch seemed to pull a trigger, a trigger that released his pent-up agony of apprehension in a wild scream, like the cry of a child who is suddenly and sorely hurt. The hare forced his stiffened sinews to work, and, trembling with the immensity of the effort, rose on his paws. He took a short, hard leap, and at that the line of hunters broke formation and streamed like windblown leaves toward him. Another leap just lifted him from their closing fangs, and his next bound was easier. In a series of hops he progressed down the furrow, each hop longer than the last. Then, abruptly, he regained complete control of his limbs. With his ears laid back and his tail depressed, Malik got into his stride and sped away. The noise of his headlong flight through the frozen leaves alarmed the sheep. All around in the moonlight they sprang up in affright, their glassy eyes staring and their nostrils flared. First one ran, then another, and in a few moments, the whole flock galloped off in a wild stampede, their sharp trotters cutting down the leaves and shattering the ice that sheathed the pools. • • • • Other hares, many of them, gathered to the turnips from far around, went streaking for the walls, up, over and away in blind panic to farther fields. In his haste, Malik almost trod upon Kitwi, the young doe hare. Kitwi was a gentle, timid little thing, with big soft eyes that now were filled with fear of something that she could not understand. She, too, had run to leave the field, but her retreat had been blocked by the fleeing sheep, and she now lay crouched in a furrow, undecided and thoroughly scared. Malik swerved round and came bounding back. There was no time to lose, for he knew that the hunters were running his line relentlessly, and that no matter how far or how fast he ran, they would pin him down in the end — unless the lino were completely broken. In Kitwi's inexperience the unchivalrous buck saw a means of achieving his own salvation. The fact that she in turn would be doomed did not trouble Malik; that was her affair. He leapt at the quivering doe and dealt her a brutal kick with his powerful hind legs. She sprang up with a squeak of protest and darted away. The big buck dashed alongside her and bit her cheek viciously, heading her round and driving her toward the nearest wall. Three yards from the boundary, Malik bit the doe again, turning her sharply and diving her on a course parallel with the wall. Then, in the middle of a bound, Malik brought his hind paws forward to his ears and banged them down on the ground. It was a prodigious leap that he made, clear to the top of the 4ft wall. He nearly skidded over the other side when his feet broke through the film of ice that coated the- soaking stone, but his furred soles gave him grip enough, and he maintained his position. Keenly aware that he was now as secure as though the hunters had never existed, he stretched out on the wall top and laid his head on his forepaws, well content. Malik had not been settled many moments when the pack of stoats came leaping down the field, their white fronts winking like snowflakes in the moonlight. At the point where the buck had broken trail the hunters halted, nosing swiftly here and there like tiny bloodhounds. Stump stood on liis hind legs, sniffing the stones of the wall, whilst up aloft Malik's heart thundered with alarm. But the big stoat found no hint of his quarry at the foot of the wall, or anywhere else; so, since there seemed to be no alternative, and as his tribe 1 are impatient of delay, he dashed off with the others on the trail of the doe which they had already followed for over a hundred yards. As the stoats took their hurried departure, Malik quickly recovered his composure. He lay at ease, alert for the scream of terror that would tell of a hunt concluded, when he might safely return to continue his interrupted meal.

At the foot of the field Kitwi came to an abrupt halt when she almost ran into the tightly-packed flock of sheep in the corner. ' The sudden appearance or the (loe startled the nervous ewes into movement again. All but one, they strung to race frantically past her.

(SHORT STORY.)

In a frenzy of alarm, the ewe which had been left behind endeavoured to leap over the wall. She stuck on the top and brought down an avalanche of loose boulders. The grinding clatter scared Kitwi into retreat; she wheeled about and fled back in the way she had come. Then she encountered the 6toats. Five slinky, green-eyed devils sprang in unison at the fleet brown form of the swerving hare. Kitwi leapt wildly, sft into the air, clean over the hunting quintet and only the fact that she was travelling fast saved her life. Had she been discovered at rest, the stunning shock of the stoats' appearance would have frozen her into abject acquiescence, and she would have died without resistance. When the doe fell out of her leap she landed badly, somersaulting twice on a long strip of ice in the furrow. For a moment she writhed frenziedly as her lashing paws slewed round on the slippery surface, then she found foothold again and dashed madly toward the wall. Here she ran bang into the sheep once more and went clean underneath them. When she fought clear, Kitwi was limping badly. She tried to leap the wall, but failed; so in desperation she clawed and scrambled her way to the top like a cat. On the other side was a long icecoated" pool, and Kitwi limped along the wall toward the end of it. Suddenly she halted, staring in alarm. For, directly ahead and only a few paces away, Malik lay hunched on the stones. He did not hear the doe; the clamour of the scattering sheep covered the faint scrape of her claws. Kitwi turned back for a short way, slid silently down on the other side, tripped lightly over the ice, then sped away over the grass field. But the stoats were on the wall top before she left it, and were running quickly from stone to stone. Out of the corner of his eye Malik saw the retreating doe. He realised that she had crossed the wall and that he himself might again be in danger. He raised his head and looked along his back —into ten little moonlit eyes. Malik's great body heaved as he made to leave his perch; but something had gone wrong. His long legs splayed and thrashed, clawing wildly at the icesheathed stone. But he could not rise, for his fur was frozen to the wall. Malik tugged frenziedly. A tuft of fur tore from his skin. He wrenched again, writhing and rolling from side to side, gaining with each furious pull. But, with the wind in their faces, the stoats were travelling swiftly. They over-ran the end of Kitwi's line, but they did not stop. Stump bounded clcan over Malik's back and landed on his neck just as the buck burst free and fell from the wall. And when the hare struck the ground there were five blood-crazed stoats fastened like leeches to his skin. • • • • Up on the wind rose a piercing scream that echoed far across the fields —a scream that faded abruptly into silence, and that was all. The running doe halted when she heard it, and the fear went out of her eyes. The killers had run their trail to its end and would, hunt no more that night. So, unafraid, Kitwi turned about and loped leisurely back to the turnips.