Over a ploughed field something snake-like slithered and swam. It was a stoat following the scent of its prey, moving keenly and fast. It ran up and down furrows, bounded across ridges, doubled back, looped, twisted, worked farther out into the field, then came back towards the edge again. It crouched, ran, sprang, and crept, quivering with excitement, seeing the vivid colour of a smell.
-J. A. Baker, The Peregrine