THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. 259 



scanty meal, and had been her companion in 

 many a lonesome hour, when no other living 

 creature was near. 



But the avengers were on the track ; and, 

 with no refuge at hand, die Reynard must for his 

 heartless theft. And die he did directly after- 

 wards, for, within two gunshots of the spot, just 

 over the Barle, the hounds ran into him ; while 

 the dishevelled carcase of the " poor little 

 specklety hen," still warm with life, was picked 

 up by the disconsolate owner, bringing the 

 deed home, without a shadow of doubt, to the 

 rapacity of that hunted fox. 



Here, however, Russell's sport was well- 

 nigh brought to a serious and untimely end. 

 " My horse Rattler," he writes, " in crossing 

 the Barle, which was much swollen, missed his 

 footing among the rocks, and, being carried 

 off his legs, rolled headlong into the river, 

 leaving me to get out as best 1 could — a labour 

 of no little difficulty ; but, with the assistance 

 of Houlditch, a couple of masons, and a long 

 pole, I escaped with only a good ducking. 

 The old horse, however, would not leave the 

 river till he had drunk his fill — at least three 

 pails of water. We found in Twitchen Town 

 Wood, ran him to South Molton, six miles ; 

 back through the same wood again and then 

 straight over the Molland and Anstey commons, 

 to the Barle, under Jekyll's house ; time, one 



