"My attention was first attracted to the hare as it came hopping steadily but unhurriedly from the north. Directly in front of me, about 75 feet from the tree I had climbed, the hare crisscrossed back and forth at various angles over an open area about 20 feet in diameter. After producing a maze of tracks, the hare 'froze' near one edge of the pattern. In a few minutes the weasel appeared, all his faculties focused on the warm trail. Expertly he followed its convolutions, passing at times within a few feet of the watching hare. Not until the weasel had followed every turn of the trail to within three feet of its termination did the hare skip off. It came out to the road almost directly below me, turned at right angles northward and was soon out of sight. At the road the weasel lost the trail, . . . and then ran parallel with it, once more in hot pursuit. "Ten minutes later the hare emerged from the north as before, came on directly to the tracked-up area, and continuing its stratagem, leisurely hopped about to leave its zigzag trail. Then it sat down quietly to wait. . . . The weasel['s] . . . nose led him through the network with little trouble. He was almost upon the hare before it jumped off and followed the same path [as] . . . before. . . . "The hare had to show his big heels [a third time] . . . as the weasel approached him. This time the weasel failed to follow. . . . After examining a few brush heaps he vanished into the woods behind me." Seton (1929 (4):723, 724) writes that in December of 1886 in the sandhills northeast of Carberry, Manitoba, he saw a weasel chasing a snowshoe rabbit which took refuge near his feet under the sleigh and so escaped the weasel. Thurber (1940:356) mentions a month-old varying hare that was rescued from a weasel and of approximately the same size as the weasel.