Time after time the only sound that filled the pause was the subdued but solemn roar of the sea about the cliffs of the Land’s End. Presently, however, there broke upon it an ominous “patter, patter, patter.” In an instant the timorous creatures were flying. Near a heap of stones they stopped and listened with ears a-cock, and there again came that “patter, patter, patter,” very faint at first but rapidly growing more and more distinct. Whoever the pursuer, he was coming along at a rapid pace. The rhythm of the footfall fascinated the hares. They stood with eyes fixed on the track to get a view the moment the creature showed. But all at once the noise ceased, to the obvious disquiet of the hare. She snuffled and snorted as when in the presence of the weasel, and set off again at a swinging pace with the leverets, now thoroughly alarmed, obedient to her every movement. Suddenly she bounded from the path to the selvedge of turf. On landing she leapt again and again. The leverets followed as if tied to her, leaping nearly as far as she did, for already they could cover nine feet in a spring. Then they sped over croft and field till, quite a mile from the track, they came to a level waste with the pool in its midst. She was about to lead them into the water when she noticed the jack on his hind legs surveying the moor. Stung by this reminder of her negligence, she leapt to the bank and looked in the direction of the trail. She looked long, but saw no sign of the pursuer, and then, completely satisfied that all was well, rejoined the leverets, who followed her without shrinking towards the middle of the pool. It seemed as if the long-legged creatures would never get out of their depth, yet they lost their foothold at last, fell to swimming, and soon gained the opposite bank. In their wet coats they looked more leggy than ever, but regained their usual appearance after shaking themselves a time or two. Then the hare again scanned the almost bare surface and, seeing nothing, gave up all thought of the enemy and devoted herself to her young. Her eyes were all for them: she had not another glance for her back trail. Her lack of vigilance was the opportunity of the dog fox who had struck their line in the clover-field and followed it to the moor, which he was now scrutinising from the only rock that rose above it. He looked everywhere but at the right spot. In his ignorance of a hare’s ways he did not examine the pool, till a slight disturbance of the surface arrested his wandering gaze: even then he thought that the ripples were caused by wildfowl; but the moon emerged from the black cloud that had obscured it, and revealed the three hares frisking in the shallows.