"
So off we went, rushing past a boy by his fire, who yelled and threw a
stick at us. But as it happened, on the borders of the property of the
Red-faced Man there were poachers who knew that hares would come out
of the wood on this day of the shooting and had made ready for us by
setting wire nooses in the gaps of the hedges through which we ran. I
got my foot into one of these but managed to shake it off. My sister
was not so lucky, for her head went into another of them. She kicked and
tore, but the more she struggled the tighter drew the noose.
I watched her for a little while until one of the poachers ran up with a
stick.
Then I went away, as I could not bear to see her beaten to death, and
that was the end of my sister. So now I was the only one left alive of
our family, except perhaps some younger brothers whom I did not know,
though I think it was one of these that afterwards I saw shot quite dead
by Giles. He went over and over and lay as still as though he had never
moved in all his life. Death seems a very wonderful thing, Mahatma, but
I won't ask you what it is because I perceive that you can't answer.
After this nothing happened to me for a long while. Indeed I had the
best time of my life and grew very strong and big, yes, the strongest
and biggest hare of any that I ever saw, also the swiftest of foot.
Twice I was chased by dogs; once by Giles's black beast, Nigger, and
once by that of a shepherd.
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