WILD SPORT IN BRITTANY. 13 



CHAPTER II. 



THE worry was soon over; and then commenced the business 

 of securing the wolf across a horse's back and despatching 

 him to the Mayor of the Commune, who keeps a kind of 

 death-register, and by his certificate enables the Louvetier to 

 draw the Government reward thirty francs for a male, and 

 fifty for a she-wolf: happily, as St. Prix whispered to me, in 

 this case it was the smaller sum. But it was no trifling task 

 compelling the horse, though nothing better than a half-starved 

 mountain pony, to submit to the burden ; the dread of his 

 natural enemy, though lying inanimate at his feet, no power 

 could overcome. He seemed frantic with fear, snorted, plunged, 

 kicked, and finally threw himself on the ground. In that 

 position half-a-dozen Bretons were on him at once; and, strap- 

 ping the gaunt beast athwart his back, they soon kicked him 

 on his legs again ; he then walked quietly off with the odious 

 burden. 



It was now just twelve o'clock; "plenty of time," as St. 

 Prix said, " to kill another wolf." His blood was up for sport ; 

 and I could see by the way he scrutinised the condition of his 

 hounds that he was quite satisfied they at least were ready for 

 any further work they might be called upon to do. So he 

 gave the word, " To the Monument of Botderu." This, I soon 

 found, was the favourite rendezvous, the prime meet of the 



