Such a short-legged little cat was surely never seen before! She
seemed rather to crawl and glide over the ground than to walk. She had
inherited her mother’s disproportionately large hare-like ears, and
had a far keener sense of hearing than any of the other kittens. The
slightest sound brought her head up with a jerk, her ears directed
instantly in the exact direction of the sound, while cunning and deceit
flashed into her usually trustful eyes. Hers was a quiet, thoughtful
nature, which apparently never waxed very enthusiastic over anything;
it was as if she pondered carefully every step she took!
She could sit still for hours at a time, with her tail curled carefully
round her neatly gathered paws, and watch the doings of the others.
An enormous degree of patience and the ability to wait characterized
her nature; they all thought she slept, but it was not so; she saw and
heard everything.
She often crept round the foot of the mound and down along the ditch
and fence--and whenever she found a little hole in the earth which
looked as if it were inhabited, she would sit down and watch, if
necessary for hours. This monotonous waiting for game suited her nature
perfectly; however bad the state of the ground or of the weather,
it made no difference to her--she bore it all with good-natured
indifference.
Lying thus in wait was a treat to her. Her sense of hearing was so
keen that she found sufficient entertainment in listening to the
subterranean rumblings of her prey. Minute linked itself to minute with
lightning speed; and although to an onlooker it seemed that nothing in
the world was happening, in reality she was experiencing thrills of
anticipation all the time.
She was also an expert at catching dragon-flies, although indeed in
another manner than brother Big. She could, as it were, hypnotize them
down to her. When a dragon-fly was performing acrobatics above her
head, she just sat still and stared and stared, until presently the
insect, whether attracted by her colouring or by her eyes, came so
close that she had only to put out a paw and knock it down.
* * * * *
One evening, while the setting sun bathes the burial-mound in its red
splendour, and the giant stones shine as if coated with pink enamel,
she creeps out to the field.
The windows of the farm flash with light, and over the white, bulging
summer clouds falls a scarlet, claret-bordered veil. Everywhere she
goes she hears the munching of grass: horses and cattle are feeding
after the day’s exertion....
She peeps to the right; to the left--and listens.
Then sits down softly--and listens, listens.... Is there anything? No!
Then forward, silently forward....
With crouching loins and curved tail, but with chest raised and neck
stretched high, she writhes through the grass, as if treading on flames.
A sudden halt--a careful investigation! No; false alarm again! And Grey
creeps along until she finds another mouse-hole....
The twilight falls, and the great black maybugs begin to wind their
sound-threads round her. A horse has dropped some manure close to where
she sits--the mice like making their holes under that!
The dike-chat flutters past with its young. The little grey birds are
swallowed up in the darkness, leaving behind only a flicker from their
white tails.
The slim young hare hops with supple grace across the field, stopping
to sniff at each root and plant....
Grey sits patiently before her mouse-hole, listening to the
faint scratching of its owner’s feet deep down in the earth. The
minutes race; her mind is utterly absorbed with the one thrilling
subject--mouse!
Presently a distant rumble rises to her ears; grains of sand are
rolling down the tunnel. The sound, which no human ear could hope to
distinguish, increases in volume until it culminates in a faint flap: a
baby mouse with thin white legs and a tail three times as long as its
body crouches curled up at the entrance!
Without straightening its body, it begins at once to propel itself
forward through the grass-stems, looking for all the world like a
living bullet on legs....
Now the noise of its running has stopped ... the mouse swarms up
and down the straws, so that they whine like violin-strings in the
cat’s ears. Her soul is a sound board on which each whine impinges,
magnified and vibrating.... In the most approved fashion she creeps
upon her prey, and, in spite of a clumsy spring, manages to nail it
down under her paw....
It was Grey-kitten’s first mouse; and she felt she would never tire
of gazing at it. Her tail wriggled without ceasing and her eyes shone
with delight ... to think that those tiny mouse-legs could make such a
frightful to-do!
She could not bring herself to eat it, but must keep it to rejoice over
on her way home. Every few minutes she stopped, dropped the luckless
victim in front of her, and began to play with it.
And, like Big, she was stupid enough to appear with it before the whole
family; even going so far as to throw it down on the ground for general
admiration.
She paid dearly for that! She never did it again!