1 6 WOLF-HUNTING. 



fusil ; his weapon, a long old-fashioned couteau-de-chasse, hung in 

 a leather scabbard over his left hip ; a reserve he had often found 

 useful in close quarters with stag and boar at bay, and which now 

 neither impeded his movements nor induced him to quit his place 

 in the management of his hounds. 



Crack, crack ! went a roaring smooth-bore not a hundred yards 

 in front, but below me in the cover ; and at the same time the 

 heavy slugs from a braconnier's piece came whistling through the 

 air, cutting the bushes right and left w r ithin a yard or two of my 

 horse's head, but luckily missing both of us ; he had killed the 

 wolf, however, and the music of one pack ceased at once. They 

 were close upon their game, and would probably have pulled it 

 down in a few minutes if the braconnier had not interfered. It 

 was a fine full-grown young wolf; but I could see St. Prix was 

 not a little disconcerted at the termination of its existence by the 

 peasant's gun. He had reckoned with good reason on fairly run- 

 ning into him, and wished especially to show me that his powerful 

 hounds, unaided by the fusil, were of themselves able to accom- 

 plish the feat. 



But St. Prix's vexation was transient as a passing cloud : the 

 other pack had turned when the double shot was fired by the 

 braconnier, and were, as my dear old friend "Jack Russell" 

 would say, swearing hard words at the villain before them. In 

 less than five minutes St. Prix had thrown in at their head the 

 seven or eight couple that followed his horse, and again the old 

 forest rung with the grand music of the united pack. 



Short turns, indicative of short wind, speedily followed, and as 

 the cover consisted chiefly of thick, matted underwood, the hounds 

 had it all to themselves, without a chance of losing their laurels by 

 an untoward shot. Suddenly the cry ceased ; and a stifled sound 

 of mortal fray, mingled with sob, growling, and yells, followed ; 

 it was the death-struggle of the gaunt, long-toothed beast, over- 

 powered by many foes St. Prix's delight was unbounded as two 



