Soon one of the mysterious white objects nearly bounced in at the door,
and we discovered it was a hare in its white winter coat. The whole
swamp was full of hares, all on the leap, going in one direction.
Seizing a pole, Addison knocked over three or four of them; still they
came by; there must have been hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, all
going one way.
At a distance we heard occasionally loud, sharp squealings, as of
distress, and presently a lynx that seemed to be on the roof of the ox
camp squalled hideously. Addison took the gun that we had brought, and
while the hares were still flopping past, tried to get a shot at the
lynx. But he was unable to make it out in the darkness, and it escaped.
I brought in one of the hares. I had an idea that we might add a bunch
of them to our load for Portland; but it and the others that we had
knocked over were too lank and light to be salable.
For an hour or more hares by the dozen continued to leap past the camp.
We repeatedly heard lynxes, or other beasts of prey, snarling at a
distance, as if following the mob of hares. Where all those hares came
from, or where they went, or why they were traveling by night, we never
knew.
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