She saw them, and hardly realising that they did not see her, she went on watching the reptile as it glided with easy serpentine motion through the grass.
“Ram is going to gather blackberries,” she said to herself, as she glanced at his basket; “and Dadd is going to count the sheep. I ought to have brought a basket for some blackberries.”
She felt full of self-reproach, as she recalled how plentifully they grew there, and how useful they would be at home. “And I might get some mushrooms, too,” she thought, “instead of coming out for nothing.”
Just then she heard Grip again barking very faintly.
“Stupid dog!” she said to herself, with a little laugh. “He has followed a rabbit to its hole. If he would only catch a few more, how useful they would be!”
Then she moved a little to follow the slow-worm, which was making for a patch of heath, and she was still watching it when, some time after, Grip came running up quickly, snarling and growling, and pausing from time to time to look back.
“Oh, you coward!” she said, sitting down and pulling his ears, as he thrust his head into her lap. “Afraid of a fox! Was it a fox’s hole, then, and not a rabbit’s, Grip?”
The dog growled and barked.
“Poor old fellow, then. Where is it, then?”
The dog leaped up, barked, and ran a few yards, to stop, look back at her, and bark again.