“And besides, the fall would have killed it,” said Kate conclusively.  “It’s lovely.  I suppose they call you a very good shot?”

“They—­who?”

“Oh! the people you know—­your friends, and their sisters.”

“George shoots better than I do, and has had more experience.  I’ve seen him do that with a pistol.  Of course not such a long shot, but a more difficult one.”

Kate did not reply, but her face showed a conviction that as an artistic and gentlemanly performance it was probably inferior to the one she had witnessed.  Falkner, who had picked up the hare also, again took his place by her side, as they turned towards the house.

“Do you remember the day you came, when we were walking here, you pointed out that rock on the mountain where the poor animals had taken refuge from the snow?” said Kate suddenly.

“Yes,” answered Falkner; “they seem to have diminished.  I am afraid you were right; they have either eaten each other or escaped.  Let us hope the latter.”

“I looked at them with a glass every day,” said Kate, “and they’ve got down to only four.  There’s a bear and that shabby, over-grown cat you call a California lion, and a wolf, and a creature like a fox or a squirrel.”

“It’s a pity they’re not all of a kind,” said Falkner.

“Why?”

“There’d be nothing to keep them from being comfortable together.”

“On the contrary, I should think it would be simply awful to be shut up entirely with one’s own kind.”

“Then you believe it is possible for them, with their different natures and habits, to be happy together?” said Falkner, with sudden earnestness.

“I believe,” said Kate hurriedly, “that the bear and the lion find the fox and the wolf very amusing, and that the fox and the wolf—­”

“Well?” said Falkner, stopping short.

“Well, the fox and the wolf will carry away a much better opinion of the lion and bear than they had before.”

They had reached the house by this time, and for some occult reason Kate did not immediately enter the parlor, where she had left her sister and the invalid, who had already been promoted to a sofa and a cushion by the window, but proceeded directly to her own room.  As a manoeuvre to avoid meeting Mrs. Hale, it was scarcely necessary, for that lady was already in advance of her on the staircase, as if she had left the parlor for a moment before they entered the house.  Falkner, too, would have preferred the company of his own thoughts, but Lee, apparently the only unpreoccupied, all-pervading, and boyishly alert spirit in the party, hailed him from within, and obliged him to present himself on the threshold of the parlor with the hare and hawk’s wing he was still carrying.  Eying the latter with affected concern, Lee said gravely:  “Of course, I can eat it, Ned, and I dare say it’s the best part of the fowl, and the hare isn’t more than enough for the women, but I had no idea we were so reduced.  Three hours and a half gunning, and only one hare and a hawk’s wing.  It’s terrible.”