FOX-HUNTING. 749 



* On 1 yet he flies, nor yields 

 To black despair. But one loose more, and all 

 His wiles are vain. Hark ! thro' yon village now 

 The rattling clamour reigns. The barns, the cots. 

 And leafless elms return the joyous sound. 

 Through every home-stall, and thro' ev'ry yard, 

 His midnight walks, panting, forlorn, he flies ; 



Th' unerring hounds 

 With peals of echoing vengeance close pursue.' 



SOMERVILLE. 



" Huntsman ! at fault at last ! How far did you bring 

 the scent '? Have the hounds made their own cast *? Now 

 make yours. You see that sheep-dog has been coursing the 

 fox ; get forward with your hounds, and make a wide cast. 

 Hark ! that halloo is indeed a lucky one. — If we can hold 

 him on, we may yet recover him ; for a fox so much distressed 

 must stop at last. We shall now see if they will hunt as 

 well as run, for there is but little scent, and the impending 

 cloud still makes the little less. How they enjoy the scent ! 

 see how busy they all are, and how each in his turn pre- 

 vails. 



" Huntsman I be quiet ! While the scent was good, you 

 pressed on your hounds ; it was well done. Your hounds 

 were afterwards at fault ; — you made your cast with judg- 

 ment, and lost no time. You now must let them hunt : 

 with such a cold scent as this you could do no good. — They 

 must do it all themselves. — Lift them now, and not a hound 

 will stop again. — Ha ! a high road, at such a time as this, 

 when the tenderest-nosed hound can hardly own the scent ! 

 — Another fault 1 That man at work there has headed 

 back the fox. Huntsman ! cast not your hounds now, you 

 see they have overrun the scent ; have a little patience, 

 and let them for once try back. 



" We must now give them time ; — ^see where they head 



