The Three Hares

BY ELSPETH FOX-PITT.

IT was at Christmas time. The country was drear. The land lay soggy and grey, with cold puddles in every dent. The grass of the down was brown, and as you looked over the distant and far-reaching landscape, field followed field of soft, fawnish green hue, with here and there a wind-swept tree or gnarled hawthorn hedgerow, until in the distance all melted into the soft grey of the misty atmosphere. Behind rose the rounded range of downs, the summit of the highest being capped by a group of leafless beeches, which local rumour said marked the site of a warrior's grave.

The hill we had climbed was steep, and it behoved us to stop for a few moments to regain our breath, for the wind blew sharp and strong, and we travellers were not in the best of condition for a stiff climb.

As we looked about, loth to admit to each other the real reason of our pause, and feigning to admire the distant panorama, my friend pointed to a field nearby and called my attention to three hares which were gambolling and frisking in the long grass some hundred yards away. One seemed to be a newcomer, and the other two were making much of it. We watched them silently and with interest for some time. They did not seem to notice us, or, if they did, they had no fear, for they gradually came nearer and nearer until we could see them very plainly, and then in astonishment we spoke to each other, and our voices broke the spell. With one accord the three hares looked at us, then at each other, and made off to is distant hawthorn thicket which gave them cover.

As we walked down the hill we talked of the hares. We had never seen such a happening before, and we had been so close that their faces haunted us. What were they doing ? And why did they come so near as if for company, and then dash away when they heard a voice ?

A weak and pale sun silvered the edges of the soft grey clouds and slowly sank as we wended our way home by the muddy sheep track. When we reached the bottom, the sun had set and the wind had dropped. We had to pass through the village, and as we approached lights were beginning to pop up, in first one window and then another. Outside the Raven and Crown ' a small crowd had collected and the glow from the open door and lighted windows fell on the black figures standing in the road as we approached. It seemed that those in the group were engaged in earnest conversation and we soon perceived that something untoward was being discussed. " Shall we enquire what has happened ? " I asked my friend, and he agreed.

We went up to an old man standing on the edge of the group. " Excuse me, sir," I said, " but may I enquire if anything is amiss, as it appears something of unusual interest is being discussed, and we have been away across the hill all afternoon, so do not know what it may be."

" It do be queer, very queer," replied the old man. " Jane Inglis, what has been lying up at Crofts for this last ten weeks, seeming half dead, 'ave gone at last, but what no one 'ere can understand 's 'ow she went on at the last. She 'aven't spoke to no one for three days, and then to-day when she 'card the wind a-blowing so 'ard she said to 'er daughter Joanna : Listen to that. Can you 'ear them ? ' and. Joanna listened and she couldn't 'ear nothing but the wind a-moaning in them trees and the creaking of that there sign over the door there, so Joanna, she says, No, there ain't nothing but the wind a-blowing and the owd board a-creaking.' But Jane, she keeps on,, Set me up 'igher,' she says, they be a-calling to me. Set me up so as I can 'ear what they be a-saying to me,' and her old face was all lit up, and she looked so pleased and 'appy as never was, and then without another word she stretches out her arms, she who 'asn't moved her 'ands for nothing for weeks and weeks, and she give one long, loud chuckle. Ha, ha,' she laughed, ' I be a-going to them ! Ha, ha, I be a-going ! ' and then fell back and never spoke no more, but 'er face was all aglow, and she looked that pleased we did not think she was gone. 'Alf an hour after, when 'er daughter wanted 'er to 'ave a cup of tea, she touched 'er hand, and it was all cold and stiff and then she knew Jane 'ad passed over, and 'er days on earth were done."

" But this be the queerest part of the tale. Joanna she come down and tell us it be all over with 'er mother, and she sent Jun to call in Sarah Chown to lay 'er out, and when they got back just now, they be knocked all of a 'eap, for while she was gone a great change 'ad come over the face of Jane, her smile 'ad gone, her 'air was sticking up on each side of her 'ead in wisps like ears, and 'er lip was curled over 'er two front teeth which stuck out, so that she looked just like a 'are."

" Well, what do you make of it_? " said I, sceptically, with an enquiring look at my friend. " What do you make of it ? "

" We don't know what to think," interjected another spokesman, " but we all do know this. Jane, she were alus a queer one, and she did say as 'ow she never would a-die because she 'ad them spirits she could talk to out beyond. She did say as when they called she would go, and be 'appy and free along of Nancy and Ellen, who were pleasant company, who 'ad gone afore, and 'ow she didn't want no parsons, or nobody, and she wasn't a-going to care what anyone said, but she would 'ave no more work and be able to keep an eye on Jim and all in Tutbury from out beyond. If we wanted to know what she was at, we could go to Shoestar Ring and there we could see for ourselves any time when the moon was full."

I looked at my friend enquiringly. That was where we had been. That was where we had seen the three hares, gambolling and playing with each other a few hours before. Jane had passed over, and she was surely now enjoying the freedom from care for which she had craved so long.

" Yes, that be what she often said," chipped in an old man from among the group, " and that shows what the mild writing on the stone up Warrior's Grave means.

If you look at it sideways-like you can read quite plain the words : ' Take Warning,' and the underneath writ a bit smaller : ' Do not harm the soul of your lost friend.' " " But what has the old stone in the beeches got to do with it ? " I asked. " Does anyone know who put it there, or why ? "

" That be very strange too," said the old man. " No one knows 'ow long it 'as been there, but the oldest says as 'ow it was there afore 'is grandfather's time, and no one don't go up to them trees after dark, for some says as there be strange 'appenings at times on the hill, but I don't know nothing rightly, and Jane, she would never tell all she knew."

" Good-night," we said, and walked home silently. As we sat over the fire that evening we told our host what we had seen and heard. He did not say much, but when we had finished he remarked : " The shooting round about here is to let, you know, but hares are always strictly preserved."