98 STORIES FROM DAUDET

that shot which tears the leaves like
April hail and singes the bark, never
shall I forget it! A rabbit scampered
across the path, pulling up the tufts of
grass with his outstretched claws. A
squirrel tumbled off a chestnut-tree,
letting fall the green chestnuts. There
were one or two heavy flights of big
pheasants, and a tumult amidst the
lower branches and the dead leaves,
from the wind of the shot, which
startled, awoke, and terrified everything
that lived in the wood. The field-
mice ran together at the bottom of
their holes. A stag-beetle, crawling
out of a crevice in the tree behind
which we hid, rolled his great stupid
eyes, transfixed with fright. And then
the dragon-flies, the bees, the butterflies,
were all so alarmed, down even to a little
cricket with scarlet wings, who came
and placed himself close to my beak ;
but I was too frightened myself to pro-
fit by his terror.

As for my old friend, he kept quite