THE DEER HUNT. 101 



He sees the plan and accelerates his speed. His horns 

 are lying on his back ; he is stretching away at his high- 

 est speed, and whenever a bush intercepts his flight, he 

 leaps it with a bound that must give him a bird's-eye 

 view of his pursuers. 



Far ahead of the deer grew a close swamp, and from 

 the straight line the deer was making we knew he was 

 looking to it for refuge. Behind, I heard Jackson shout- 

 ing at us, but who could stop to listen with such a buck 

 in view ? On we went, the dogs still nearer the deer, 

 and Tiger almost within reach of his haunches. Lon 

 Jackson held one rein in each hand, her eyes fixed on 

 the chase, and her hair flying loose behind her. There 

 goes the deer in the bushes ; he touched a log here and 

 a bog there, and along he went like a rope dancer. 

 Tally ho! On went the dogs, when, to my surprise, 

 Tiger disappeared from view, and in a second of time 

 the whole pack were floundering in the morass. " Hold 

 hard !" I heard again from behind. " Hold hard, Miss 

 Jackson !" I screamed, as the truth flashed on me. 

 " The quicksands !" Too late ; her horse was wild with 

 the chase, and she could not hold him. He made one or 

 two desperate leaps as he found himself floundering, and 

 in a second of tune was half ingulfed in the mud. 

 His rider still held the reins and kept her seat on the 

 struggling horse. The Doctor was in equal plight, while 

 his frightened beast pawed the air in its attempts to 

 regain a footing. My horse, more used to such ground, 

 turned short around when he felt it quaking, throwing 



