His horse was as trustworthy as himself, and one does not wonder that he dozed....
You know that intermittent drowsing as one sits, the drooping of the head, the nodding to the rhythm of the wheels then chin upon the breast, and at once the sudden start up again.
_Pitter, litter, patter_.
"What was that ?" It seemed to the doctor he had heard a thin shrill squeal close at hand.
For a moment he was quite awake.

He said a word or two of undeserved rebuke to his horse, and looked about him.

He tried to persuade himself that he had heard the distant squeal of a fox--or perhaps a young rabbit gripped by a ferret.
_Swish, swish, swish, pitter, patter, swish_--...
What was that?
He felt he was getting fanciful.

He shook his shoulders and told his horse to get on.

He listened, and heard nothing.
Or was it nothing?
He had the queerest impression that something had just peeped over the hedge at him, a queer big head.