"Lord!" he said, wiping his brow, "they do come suddent." What he had pulled out was a dead cat; a wretched puss, who on some happy hunt had got itself wedged in the hole, and so perished there miserably.

He and Patton stooped over it wondering; then Hurd walked some paces along the bank, looking warily out to the right of him across the open country all the time.

He threw the poor malodorous thing far into the wood and returned.
The two men lit their pipes under the shelter of the bushes, and rested a bit, well hidden, but able to see out through a break in the bit of thicket.
"Six on 'em," said Hurd, looking at the stark creatures beside him.

"I be too done to try another bury.

I'll set a snare or two, an' be off home." Patton puffed silently.