140 SPOKT IN NOETH AMERICA. 



saddle-bow. ISlv. Dallifold's chief huntsman, a black 

 named Hector, led the way. This African Nimrod 

 was an odd creature, and I shall [never forget his 

 wrinkled face, crisp white hair, and thick under-lip, 

 hanging so low as to leave the white teeth distinctly 

 visible, — white, in spite of the constant habit of 

 chewing tobacco, which he had practised for sixty 

 years.* From his earliest youth. Hector had been 

 a sportsman, and his master had made him hunts- 

 man-in-chief to Schooley's Mansion. Looking at 

 his bright eye, slender wiry legs covered with boots 

 with spurs, and seeing him mounted on his pony, 

 with its small saddle, and his feet in the enormous 

 stirrups, it was easy to guess that he knew what he 

 was about, and that we should not go home with 

 empty bags. 



" Well, Hector, what news ? Shall we have a 

 good day of it ?"^ said my host to his slave. 



" Berry well," quoth Hector, in his queer dialect. 

 " Me show big stag ; but the buckras must shoot 

 straight." 



" That's well, old boy, let go the dogs and on with 

 you. Come on, gentlemen, load your rifles and take 

 your places." 



In a few minutes, the hounds were uncoupled, and 

 we had great difficulty in following them straight at 

 a gallop, as they hunted up the scent which Hector 



* The blacks very frequently begin cbewing at ten years of age. 

 Hector was really seventy years old. 



