168 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



there resounds the too familiar words " Hecuba, ba-ack ! " If 

 my death-bed be an uneasy one, I really think my spirit will 

 cry out " Hecuba ! Have a care ! " and pass away muttering 

 mournfully that one should ever have to rate a hound of one's 

 own. Hecuba was a brilliant puppy, full of dash and drive and 

 devilry ; but I should like to have sent her to George Carter of 

 the Fitzwilliam for three months' schooling. 



More than one of the field has already kicked his horse 

 nervously in the ribs ; and when Hebe and Bondsman indorse 

 the line it requires some persuasion to prevent them starting 

 off at score — for they know how hounds can scatter their field 

 when they run on the Neilgherries. A herd of bullocks obli- 

 terates the faint trail, but a rather lengthy forward cast reopens 

 it again, Hecuba this time flinging into it before the others 

 cross it. Now it freshens ; now they can all tell eagerly of it, 

 and now they hunt quickly down the hillside to a little brook 

 below. Jack might have stopped here for a bath in his morn- 

 ing prowl ; for in an instant hounds settle to it noisily, dash 

 over the stream and up the next ascent. Hide after them now 

 as hard as you like. There is not a man, woman, or horse that 

 will gain a yard on them for the next twenty-five minutes. 

 Phantom is close at them ; and closest to him, as in duty 

 bound, is Mrs. Phantom. Steady a bit, Phantom, you haven't 

 got steeplechase condition under you to-day. Thomas takes a 

 pull ; and so does Mrs. Clerk. Gentle rising ground now, 

 then a high level, and hounds three hundred yards to the good. 

 Major Titbit loses his hat as he gallops along a bullock path, 

 the only road through a narrow sholah ; and, much to the 

 indignation and chagrin of Mrs. Clerk, he insists on dismount- 

 ing for it and completely barricading the way. You may make 

 np some ground now if you have only the nerve of Mr. Thomas, 

 and your horse has shoulders to allow of your sitting back and 

 kicking him down the hill. There are countless loose stones in 

 your path ; horses never fall when galloping down the steepest 

 and most stone-covered hills of the Neilgherries. But then 

 there are no rabbit-holes there. Ugh ! 



