“What can they be, then?”
“Hares, I take it,” replied Basil, looking through his fingers.
“Hares!” ejaculated François, in some surprise. “Why, they are not bigger than rats! Do you mean that they are young hares?”
“No, indeed, full-grown hares of their species.”
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed François. “Why, brother, what are your eyes good for? You think they are far off, don’t you? I tell you they are not two hundred yards from us, and a grey squirrel would be a giant beside them. Hares, indeed!”
“I am still of that opinion,” answered Basil, as he continued to gaze intently at the animals. “I am not certain, though. I wish Lucien were here. Perhaps he could tell us what they are.”
“Here he is, then,” said François, as the footstep of Lucien was heard behind them. “Look yonder, Luce!” continued he. “See what Basil calls a pair of full-grown hares!”
“And Basil is right,” replied Lucien, after having examined them for a moment. “They are full-grown hares.”
François looked confounded.
“If I mistake not,” continued Lucien, “they are the species known among the Indians of the prairie as the ‘little chief hare.’ They may be a different variety, though, for there are several species of these small hares found in the Rocky Mountains, and the prairies that lie around them. They are very rare. I wish we could get the skin of one. I am sure papa would prize it highly.”