But in the depths of the night, some stray wayfarer, hurrying home with lighted lantern along the road, sometimes sees a cluster of fiery balls glowing in the darkness of the hedge. Two by two they hang, as if fastened to the wall of gloom....
It is Grey Puss out hunting at the head of her band of kittens!
She catches hares, so big that she cannot drag them with her, but must tear them asunder on the spot and parcel them out among the youngsters.
THE CROW AGAIN
The kittens are now compelled more and more to find their own food; and in consequence are often reduced to a very meagre diet. Maybugs, grasshoppers, and snails float about inside each of them!
Occasionally, however, the old cat gathers her flock around her.
When she has made an exceptionally big catch, which she herself cannot eat up, she miauws them together for a great banquet. They behave in exactly the same way as when they were small kittens: each of them grabs a lump, and sits down gnawing it, always on the alert, growling, scowling, and spitting—and, if necessary, fighting.
Black, especially, has developed extensively in the matter of quarrelsomeness—and he is now the terror of his brothers and sisters on account of his strength and brutality. He deprives both Grey and Red mercilessly of their portions; he is not even afraid of letting Big’s back make the acquaintance of his claws; which results as a rule in that portion, also, dropping from its rightful owner’s jaws.
And if his claws do not suffice, his strong, pointed teeth are brought into play, and infallibly succeed in convincing his victim that part of the spoil is not what he is after; he wants the lot!
Naturally, everyone protests—and as a rule Big springs at his throat; but when it is a question of fighting, Black is all there. He bites hard, and has a habit of following it up at once with a second bite, if the first does not take immediate effect.