34 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



" Put 'em on to me," cried the Master, *' or they'll 

 be away." 



He rode across the bridge and turned into a field. 

 Seeing the dismounted whip couldn't stop the wan- 

 derers, he then rode down to the brook and threw the 

 rest of the pack into the covert. Scarcely had he 

 done so when a hound opened. The field hastened to 

 follow the Master, for the ground was too boggy on 

 the covert side of the brook. 



Just then a hare broke away from the top of the 

 covert, and went towards the right. Directly after, 

 the leading hounds emerged on the very spot. 



'"Ware hare! 'Ware hare!" cried some of the 

 field. 



"Do be quiet," shouted the Master. 



Sure enough, when the hounds got a little way up 

 the field they swung to the left. 



'' Forrard, forrard ! " shrieked the Master, adding, 

 " I knew it was a fox." 



It was now our turn to get '* forrard." A couple of 

 trappy fences and a covert without rides thinned the 

 field considerably, and at last some three or four of us 

 only came down to the brook. It is boggy enough 

 here, but we get over with a flounder, just as two 

 more do so lower down. 



We breast the slight rise which obstructs our view, 

 and there, at the far end of the field, are the 

 tail hounds striving hard to join the body of the 

 pack. 



It is ride, now. Already Bob , the gentleman 



rider,! has shot to the front on a thoroughbred. 

 Presently we see the pack, close enough to be covered 

 with the proverbial sheet, rising a slope. They are 



^ Now a Master of Hounds. 



