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The Mahatma and the Hare by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard
page 41 of 79 (51%)
So Giles called, "Nigger. Come you 'ere, Nigger! Nigg, Nigg, Nigg!"

But Nigger rushed about putting up partridges all over the place while
Grampus stamped and shouted and every one missed everything, till at
last Tom sat down on the turnips and roared with laughter.

At length, after Giles had beaten Nigger till he broke a stick over
him, making him howl terribly, order was restored, and the line having
reformed, began to march down on me. For, Mahatma, I was so frightened
by what had happened to my father, and I think my mother, that I didn't
remember what he, I mean my dead father, had told me, always to run away
when there is a chance, as poor hares can only protect themselves by
flight.

So as I had lost the chance I thought that I would just sit tight,
hoping that they would not see me. Nor indeed would they if it hadn't
been for that horrible Tom.

During the confusion the mother partridge which the Red-faced Man had
shot had been forgotten by everybody except Tom. Tom, you see, was
certain that he had shot it himself, being a very obstinate boy, and was
determined to retrieve it as his own.

Now that partridge had fallen within a yard of me, with its beak and
claws pointing to the sky, and when the line had passed where we lay Tom
lagged behind to look for it. He did not find it then, whether he ever
found it afterwards I am sure I don't know. But he found me.

"By Jove! here's a hare," he said, and made a grab at me just as he had
done in the furze bush.
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