NATURE OF THE COUNTRY. 41 



it is, I remember that hill ; " and on we pushed to a hill a 

 mile a-head, but no woodcock wood was there. Then my 

 friend took up the track, and said it was to the right, and 

 there we went ; but were still wrong. The country grew 

 wilder — neither house nor man to be seen — and no 

 game; so we retired to a hedge, and took some provand, and 

 afterwards went on merrily, as we felt certain the point was 

 before us. At length we reached a hill, from which a long 

 look convinced us that at least for five miles a-head there 

 was nothing likely, and that we were wholly out of our 

 bearings. " Bout ship " accordingly, and we began to re- 

 turn. Daylight grew fainter, and no one was visible to ask 

 the way. After an hour wx spied a peasant, who told us 

 we were a long way from home, but that in three miles we 

 should arrive at a good road, which would lead us home. 

 So w^e followed the track he pointed out, which, like all 

 bye-roads in winter, was ankle-deep in mud, though better 

 than the furze. When we reached the main road it was 

 dark ; and we found we had nine miles to walk. It snowed 

 incessantly, and we reached home about eight o'clock, well 

 tired, and as white as millers. A curious thing happened 

 that day. On my friend joining me he had a strange dog 

 with him. " What ! another dog ! " said I. " No ; " said 

 he, " he followed me from a baker's shop, where I stopped 

 for some bread ; and I am told he belongs to nobody. 

 However, he would follow^ me ; so let us try him." The dog 

 did tolerably well ; fed when we fed ; and left us when we 

 got in at night. I found out that he was an independent 

 dog, without incumbrance ; liked the chase and good 

 living ; and hung about the bakers' shops, knowing that 



