WARWICK WOODLANDS. 151 



the air, down the ravine, announcing Jem's approach. No 

 hound gave tongue, however, nor did a rustle in the brake, or 

 any sound of life, give token of the presence of the game 

 louder and nearer drew the shouts and now Harry himself be- 

 gan to doubt if there were any truth in Jem's relation, when 

 suddenly the sharp, quick crack of Forester's rifle gave token 

 that the game was afoot a loud yell from that worthy followed. 



" Look out ! Mark- back mark back !" 



And keenly Archer did look out, and warily did he listen 

 once he detected, or fancied he detected, a rustling of the under- 

 wood, and the crack of a dry stick, and dropping his reins on 

 the horse's neck, he cocked his rifle but the sound was not re- 

 peated, nor did any thing come into sight so he let down the 

 hammer once again, and resumed his silent watch, saying to 

 himself 



" Frank fired too quick, and he has headed up the brook to 

 Jem. If he is forward enough now, we shall have him back in- 

 stantly, with the hounds at his heels ; but if he has loitered 

 and hung back, * over the hills and far away' is the word for 

 this time." 



* But Jem was in his place, and in another moment a long- 

 whoop came ringing down the glen, and the shrill yelping rally 

 of the hounds as they all opened on a view together ! Fiercer 

 and wilder grew the hubbub ! And now the eager watcher 

 might hear the brushwood torn in all directions by the impetu- 

 ous passage of the wild deer and his inveterate pursuers. 



" Now, then, it is old Tom's chance, or ours," he thought, 

 " for he will not try Forester again, I warrant him, and we are 

 all down wind of him so he can't judge of our whereabouts." 



In another second the bushes crashed to his left hand, and 

 behind him, while the dogs were raving scarcely a pistol-shot 

 off, in the tangled swamp. Yet he well knew that if the stag 

 should break there it would be A 's shot, and, though anx- 

 ious, he kept his eye fixed steadily on his own point, holding 

 his good piece cocked and ready. 



" Mark ! Harry, mark him !" a loud yell from the Commodore. 



The stag had broken midway between them, in full sight of 



A , and seeing him, had wheeled off to the right. He was 



now sweeping onward across the open field with high graceful 

 bounds, tossing his antlered head aloft, as if already safe, and 

 little hurt, if anything, by Jem Lyn's boasted shot of the last 

 evening. The gray stood motionless, trembling, however, pal- 



