A WOODLAND TRAGEDY

In coming across from Lewis with our horses Ranger Bieson and I had been marvelling at the magnificent forest and the calm quietitude of its cover. We were nearing Bear Prarie and passing a swamp when the peaceful quiet was broken by a rather weak and pitiful cry. I rode on a few yards and stopped. There on the side of the trail in an arena formed by two forest giants and decorated by ferns was being stated the fiercest battle ever fought, as far as the vanquished was concerned.

I sat for a minute watching as a Rabbit kicked frantically and bounced about as his powerful hind legs lifted him up but never away from his adversary. It wasn't possible to get a clear view of the agressor as they thrashed about but I suspected a weasel. He had secured a death grip on the Rabbit's throat and in some way was holding his body in very close to the rabbit and between his legs so that the rabbit could not get at him with his powerful hind legs which might have done considerable damage. I got off my horse and walked over to give the count but as I got almost to the combatants there was a flurry and a slender form of beautiful dark brown fur and darker brown furry tail darted toward the swamp and left his prey in the last throes of death. The count went to the mink - for that is what the animal was - for he had sunk his needle-like teeth to the vital spot and the rabbit gave only a few weak kicks after the mink released him.

Preston Macy, Asst. Chief Ranger.