WARWICK WOODLANDS. 43 



brightened into a blaze of living gold, exceeded only by the glo- 

 rious hues with which a few bright specks of misty cloud glowed 

 out against the azure firmament, like coals of actual tire. 



Again a louder splash aroused me; and, as I turned, there float- 

 ed on a glassy basin, into which the ripples of a tiny fall sub- 

 sided, three wood-ducks, with a noble drake, that loveliest in 

 plumage of all aquatic fowl, perfectly undisturbed and fearless, 

 although within ten yards of their most dreaded enemy. 



How beautiful are all their motions ! There ! one has reared 

 herself half way out of the water; another stretches forth a 

 delicate web foot to scratch her ear, as handily as a dog on dry 

 land ; and now the drake reflects his purple neck to preen his 

 ruffled wing, and now bad luck to you, Peacock, why did you 

 snort and stamp ? they are off like a bullet, and out of sight 

 in an instant. 



And now out comes the sun himself, and with him the accur- 

 sed hum of a musquitoe and hark ! hush ! what was that ? 

 was it ? By Heavens ! it was the deep note of a fox- hound ! 

 Aye ! there comes Harry's cheer, faintly heard, swelling up the 

 breeze. 



" Have at him, there ! Ha-a-ve at him, good lads !" 



Again ! again ! those are the musical deep voices of the slow 

 hounds ! They have a dash in them of the old Southern breed ! 

 And now ! there goes the yell! the quick sharp yelping rally of 

 those two high-bred bitches. 



By heaven ! they must be viewing him ! How the woods ring 

 and crash ! 



u Together hark ! Together hark ! Together ! For-ra-ard, 

 good lads, get fur-a-ard ! Hya~a-aravvay !'' 



Well halloaed, Harry ! I could swear to that last screech, out 

 of ten thousand, though it is near ten years since I last heard it ! 

 But heavens ! how they press him ! Hang it ! there goes a shot 

 the squire has fired at him, as he tried the earths ! Now, if 

 he have but missed him, and Pan, the god of hunters, send it 

 so, he has no chance but to try the open. 



By Jove he has ! he must have missed ! for Bonny Belle and 

 Blossom are raving half a mile this side of him already. And 

 now Tom sees him how quietly he steals up to the fence. 

 There ! he has fired ! and all our sport is up ! No ! no ! he 

 waves his hat and points this way ! Can he have missed ? No ! 

 he has got a fox ! he lifts it out by the brush there must 

 have been two, then, on foot together. He has done it well to 



