grinning at him。 Jack backed up another two
steps。 His head was thudding crazily and he could feel the dry rasp of his
breath in his throat。 Now the buffalo had moved； circling to the right； behind
and around the rabbit。 The head was lowered； the green hedge horns pointing at
him。 The thing was； you couldn't watch all of them。 Not all at once。
He began to make a whining sound； unaware in his locked concentration that he
was making any sound at all。 His eyes darted from one hedge creature to the
next； trying to see them move。 The wind gusted； making a hungry rattling sound
in the close…matted branches。 What kind of sound would there be if they got him？
But of course he knew。 A snapping； rending； breaking sound。 It would be
（no no NO NO I WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS NOT AT ALL！）
He clapped his hands over his eyes； clutching at his hair； his forehead； his
throbbing temples。 And he stood like that for a long time； dread building until
he could stand it no longer and he pulled his hands away with a cry。
By the putting green the dog was sitting up； as if begging for a scrap。 The
buffalo was gazing with disinterest back toward the roque court； as it had been
when Jack had e down with the clippers。 The rabbit stood on its hind legs；
ears up to catch the faintest sound； freshly clipped belly exposed。 The lions；
rooted into place； stood beside the path。
He stood frozen for a long time； the harsh breath in his throat finally
slowing。 He reached for his cigarettes and shook four of them out onto the
gravel。 He stooped down and picked them up； groped for them； never taking his
eyes from the topiary for fear the animals would begin to