Frank Beers ^ Huntsman. 99 



Their blood-tipped sterns a moment wave, and then they 



disappear, 

 And the fast-receding music of their bell-Hke tongues we hear. 



XV. 



This is no time to loiter nor to think of drawing rein, 

 So spur we down the covert side or from the chase refrain; 

 For he who took a pull that day, if but for half a minute. 

 To breath his horse beside the wood, was never after in it. 



XVI. 



For five-and-thirty minutes we'd been going well and fast, 

 And thought the pace was much too good a longer time to last ; 

 But, as it proved, a harder test for horses was in store, 

 Although the veriest glutton then had hardly asked for more. 



XVIL 



We barely reached the farther end, when, going down the wind, 



We viewed our fox, who had not dwelt for all too close behind. 



Beers and his beauties, swift of foot, poor Reynard stoutly push 



Through brier and brake and clamouring make him tremble 



for his brush. 



XVIII. 



The Whip's view halloo now is heard, and Beers becomes 



aware 

 Of Reynard's course, and lifts his voice and pipes both shrill 



and clear : 

 A louder pipe and shriller than that possessed by Beers, 

 Unless it be a whistle blown by steam, one never hears. 



XIX. 



The hounds, their tongues still throwing, dash out and by that 



sign 

 Frank knows full well his steadfast pack has never left the line. 

 He cares not now to lift them, and indeed he has no need, 

 For as they run they try our panting horses' utmost speed. 



H 2 



