84 FOXHUNTING. 



and wiry foxhunter, whose keen eye marks the 

 line of the dogs as they are streaming away for 

 Cankercleugh. Ha! yonder's a check, and a 

 cast. Now they are on again, and over the edge 

 for Coquet, straight in a line for Cheviot. 

 Hurrah ! they sweep round, yonder they come 

 along the Her den Edge. We are in for a hunt 

 yet ; the fox means the Eeedwater country, after 

 all noo watch alang the weather gleam for the 

 fox, says our friend with the falcon eye, ye may 

 ken by yon curlew that he's no far off ; see, 

 yon's him. And we get a momentary glimpse 

 of something between us and the snow on the 

 peak of Cheviot. Aye, faix it's him ; here he 

 comes straight to us. Noo jouk down an' let him 

 past. Whisht ! there he is wi' his tongue oot ; 

 he's gae hard up already. He's past the holes 

 at the Haven Crag, the hounds close on him, 

 Bellman leading, all giving tongue fit to waken 

 the fairies at the Whurlstone. And here come 

 three of the riders, young Elliot of Hindhope 

 first, a Dandie Dinmont of Bliiidburn next, and 

 close up Miss E. Hobson of Byrness, the fair 

 haired sister of the gallant young master of the 

 pack. There's huntin' bluid for ye, exclaimed 

 our friend of Speethope Haugh, as the young 

 lady dashed past, and whose brilliant illustration 

 of horsewomanship forcibly reminds us of the 



