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But the cony I have seen on sunny days in January; his welcome "squee-ek," piercing the roar of the wind, has greeted me on the lonely storm-swept heights when not another living thing was in sight. But in spite of his living in the out-of-the-way world the cony has enemies for whom he is always watching. In summer there are hawks and eagles, foxes and coyotes.

A living writer, who has considered this subject with great attention, gives as the result of his inquiry, that the saphan of the ancient Hebrews, rendered "cony" in the English Bible, is a very different animal; that it has a nearer resemblance to the hedgehog, the bear, the mouse, the jerboa, or the marmot, though it is not any of these.

According to my division your brother Archelaus is a fox and an eagle and all the other lone things right enough, isn't he, Ishmael?" "Yes," said Ishmael slowly, "I think he is." "Whereas you are the bee, the wolf, the cony," declared Killigrew. "Isn't he, Padre?" Boase smiled. "Shall I tell you what I think, Joe?" he answered, "It is this.

Say no more, therefore, for I am weary of living like a cony in a hole, and I shall be right glad to stand by you in your venture." That night, two hours after dark, a small boat put forth from the Basilisk. It contained Simon, Aylward and two seamen. The soldiers carried their swords, and Black Simon bore a brown biscuit-bag over his shoulder.

"Yesterday," she began, "I told you about two little haymakers of the high mountains of the Far West. Who were they, Peter Rabbit?" "Little Chief Hare, called the Pika or Cony, and Stubtail the Mountain Beaver or Sewellel," replied Peter with great promptness. "Right," said Old Mother Nature.

He bore himself so gallantly that it was in great part due to him that the French were forced to raise the siege of Cony.

Then, if the enemy was a bird or a beast, he merely hugged the rock, watching alertly until he was discovered, then flipped out of sight to the safety of rocky retreat, giving a defiant "squee-ek" as he went. But if a weasel appeared... I sat watching a cony one day in early fall as he lay in the sunshine upon a bowlder.

The larger agouti, mara, or Patagonian cony twice the size of a hare are seen three or four together, hopping quickly one after the other in a straight line across the Pampas. It is somewhat like a hare, but has the external covering of a hog, its long coat concealing its little stump of a tail. It has also the hog's voracious appetite.

In winter his feathered foes depart, but the foxes remain, as do the weasels. Sitting motionless in the midst of jumbled rocks I have faded into the bowlder fields, and thus have been able to watch the cony and his enemies. Usually his "squee-ek" announced the appearance of a foe before I discovered it.

He spoke gravely. "I'm afraid Cony would call that shirking. I I think perhaps I had better have it out with him myself. I remember all you said to me!" "I only want to save you." His expression was troubled, but not without a certain touch of sternness that she perceived. He changed the subject immediately, and they walked on rapidly toward the garden.