92 The Chase 



For there his smell with others being mingled, 

 The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, 

 Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled 

 With much ado the cold fault cleanly out ; 



Then do they spend their mouths ; Echo replies, 

 As if another chase were in the skies. 



By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill. 

 Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear. 

 To harken if his foes pursue him still : 

 Anon their loud alarums he doth hear ; 

 And now his grief may be compared well 

 To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell. 



Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch 

 Turn, and return, indenting with the way ; 

 Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch. 

 Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay ; 

 For misery is trodden on by many. 

 And being low never relieved by any. 



TVilliam Shakespeare, 



Breaking the Ranks ^^> -*i> o 



WE reached camp at 2 p.m., and the regiment 

 drew up on some ground covered with low 

 bushes and tufts of grass. Here an amusing incident 

 occurred. Just as the officers were told to fall out, 

 a dog that belonged to a man of my company, a 

 sporting character, started a hare. The owner got 

 so excited by the prospect of a little sport, that, 

 quite forgetting where he was, the rigid discipline 

 of parade, and the awful presence of the colonel- 

 sahib, out he started from the ranks, down went 

 his musket, ofF went his cap, and away he ran, 

 cheering on the dog, to the great delight of all the 

 regiment, and the amusement of the colonel himself. 



