40 WARWICK WOODLANDS. 



be there to rights ! Jem, cus you, out of my way, you dumb 

 nigger out of my way, or I'll ride over you'* for, travelling 

 along at a strange shambling run, that worthy had contrived to 

 keep up with us, though we were going fully at the rate of eight 

 or nine miles in the hour. 



" Hurrah !" cried Tom, suddenly pulling up at the door of a 

 neat farm-house on the brow of a hill, with a clear streamlet sweep- 

 ing round its base, and a fine piece of woodland at the farther 

 side. " Hurrah ! Sam Blain,we've come to make them foxes, you 

 were telling of a Sunday, sme.ll h 11 right straight away. Here's 

 Archer, and another Yorker with him leastwise an Englisher I 

 should say and Squire Conklin, and Bill Speers, and that white 

 nigger Jem ! Look sharp, I say ! Look sharp, cuss you, else 

 we'll pull off the ruff of the old Immstead." 



In a few minutes Sam made his appearance, armed, like the 

 rest, with a Queen Ann's tower-musket. 



" Well ! well !" he said, " I'm ready. Quit making such a 

 clatter ! Lend me a load of powder, one of you ; my horn's 

 leaked dry, I reckon !'' 



Tom forthwith handed him his own, and the next thing I 

 heard was Blain exclaiming that it was " desperate pretty pow- 

 der," and wondered if it shot strong. 



"Shoot strong ? I guess you'll rind it strong enough to s^w 

 you up, if you go charging your old musket that ways!'' answer- 

 ed Tom. " By the Lord, Archer, he's put in three full charges P 



" Well, it will kill him, that's all !" answered Harry, very 

 coolly ; " and there'll be one less of you. But come ! come ! 

 "let's be bustling; the sun's going to get up already. You'll 

 leave your horses here, I suppose, gentlemen, and get to the old 

 stands. Tom Draw, put Mr. Forester at my old post down by 

 the big pin-oak at the creek side ; and you stand there, Frank, 

 still as a church-mouse. It's ten to one, if some of those fellows 

 don't shoot him first, that he'll break covert close by you, and 

 run the meadows for a mile or two, up to the turnpike road, 

 and over it to Rocky hill that black knob yonder, covered with 

 pine and hemlock. There are some queer snake fences in the 

 flat, and a big brook or two, but Peacock has been over every 

 inch of it before, and you may trust in him implicitly. Good 

 bye ! I'm going up the road with Jem to drive it from the 

 .upper end." 



And off he went at a merry trot, with the hounds gamboling 

 about his stirrups, and Jem Lyn running at his best pace to keep 



