22 



How quickly the hunter came back to his hand, 

 And cleared the big fence that divided the land. 

 Still plainly I see him, this rider so fair. 

 Who sat like a statue carved out in a chair. 



I said to myself, it is hard to believe, 



But yet as I look I can plainly perceive, 



In the dash of the horse that is leading the van, 



The workings that come from the mind of the man. 



At the end of the run I believed I could trace 

 A thoughtful intelligence marked in his face. 

 And after the rider I looked at the steed 

 So full of good mettle, so true to his breed. 



The blood of Strathconan could plainly be seen 

 In the face of the hunter, so snakey and clean. 

 I said as I saw him, so noble and brave, 

 A creature so grand is not meant for a slave. 



A nature so noble, so generous, and kind, 



Can only be meant for a man with a mind ; 



A nature like this is intended to blend 



With minds that are high, and be counted a friend. 



The clown may succeed, but most men will declare 

 The hunter has need of intelligent care ; 

 In stable and field oftentimes he will suffer 

 When left to the care of a clown or a duffer. 



