Uncle George agreed to take the children as far up the stream as they could walk, without being tired. Soon they were far up above the wood, and the fields, and the pond. Frank was not in the least sorry when his uncle sat down on a large stone by the side of the stream. “We shall not go much farther,” said Uncle George. “Some other day we will. But tell me what you think of the country round about you.” “It is very wild and lonely,” said Tom. “There are no fields of corn; nothing but green hills and moorland. Yet it is very grand.” “The flowers and plants are not like those of the valley,” said Tom. “The stream, too, is different. Here it is a noisy, rushing course of clear, lovely water. Down below it is a lazy-flowing stream.” “It is not always so clear,” said Uncle George. “After heavy rains this stream is swollen and brown.” “Look! look!” cried Dolly. “What is that on the other side of the stream?” Sure enough there was something moving about. Now it turned round and opened its mouth, showing two rows of sharp, white teeth. Then, with a harsh cry that could be heard above the noise of the water, it bolted away. There was just time for all to see the creature, which Tom at once called a weasel. “Yes, a weasel it is,” said Uncle George; “it is one of the animals which prey on rabbits and young hares. Look! there it is again.” The children looked, and saw it quite clearly. There it was, a pretty little animal of a black and brown colour, with just a little white on its breast. It sat up, and was holding something in its fore paws. “Ah!” said Uncle George, “our little friend is a thief. He has found a nest, and that is an egg he has stolen from it. Let us see what he will do with it.” [Illustration: The Weasel at Home.] In a moment or two Master Weasel tucked the egg under his chin and was off once more. “What a dear little thing, to be sure!” said Dolly. “How quaint to carry an egg in that way!” “It looks pretty, that is certain,” said Uncle George, “but it is a dreadful foe to the smaller animals of the field. There are other foes, too, and I hope we may see some of them before we return.” The boys were glad to hear their uncle say this, and they asked him to take them, now they were rested, a little farther up the stream. All of them made a start. By and by they came to a place where the stream made a kind of pool. The pool was bounded on each side by high rocks. At the top end the water came down with a rush from a great height. It was a very lonely spot indeed; and, except for the noise of the water, nothing could be heard. On and on they went. Uncle George told them of the stoat, the polecat, and the marten, all of which, he said, were foes of the smaller animals. Tom kept a sharp look out, and hoped he would see at least one of these. As luck would have it, a dull splash was heard in the water a little way in front of them. All of them looked towards the spot.