68 WOLF-HUNTING. 



available quarter ; not ordinary gun-shot, but No. 2 slugs and 

 swan drops, and those, too, impelled by fabulous charges of 

 powder from fowling-pieces of antiquated fashion and mighty 

 length. The last time I was present, five boats, each manned 

 with four or five gunners, traversed the lake to and fro abreast, 

 while an army of outsiders flanked the water's edge on each 

 shore, and at every flight of the fowl, utterly regardless of 

 consequences, these last poured their hap-hazard volleys, high 

 or low, into the passing fowl, and not unfrequently into some 

 unlucky boat. Such a cry and commotion as then arose it is 

 utterly impossible to describe. Threats of vengeance were 

 hurled back, and sometimes, if a farmer was hit, a return shot 

 was instantly fired at the offenders, right into the brown of them, 

 promiscuously. Then the occasional bursting of a fowling-piece 

 did more serious damage, and swelled the casualities of the 

 Lea-day into a frightful list. 



Matters now are probably better managed; but the scene I 

 have endeavoured to describe is no exaggerated picture of a 

 "grand Lea-day" in former times, when bell-mouthed guns and 

 flint-locks were far more general than detonators, and when 

 French copper-caps not unfrequently burst like shells and flew 

 in splinters into the gunner's face. From that day to the one at 

 Trefranc I had seen nothing like it, nor, in point of casualty, was 

 there a pin to choose between them. 



But now to the wounded wolf. The hounds clapped on to 

 the scent, soon settled to it, and, to judge by the crash that 

 followed, it might be supposed he was not a minute ahead 

 of them. " That's his blood they're enjoying," said St. Prix 

 to me, as he listened with intense delight to the rattling 

 peal : " the faster it trickles the better the scent, and, above 

 all, the easier will be the victory to the hounds in the last 

 fight." 



" Then it will be soon over," I remarked, hearing the pack 



