THE PROVINCES. 225 



the find reaches his ears, twice that time ere the hounds 

 are fairly out of covert on his line ; so, with a clear head 

 and a bold heart, he has leisure to consider his tactics 

 and to remember the main earth at Crag's-end in the 

 forest, twelve miles off as the crow flies. 



Challenger, and Charmer his progeny, crash out of 

 the wood together, fairly howling with ecstasy as their 

 busy noses meet the rich tufted herbage, dewy, dank, 

 and tainted with the maddening odour that affords such 

 uncontrolled enjoyment. " Harve art him, my lards ! " 

 exclaims old Matthew, in Doric accents, peculiar to the 

 kennel. " Come up, horse ! " and, having admonished 

 that faithful servant with a dig in the ribs from his horn, 

 blows half-a-dozen shrill blasts in quick succession, sticks 

 the instrument, I shudder to confess it, in his boot, and 

 proceeds to hustle his old white nag at the best pace he 

 can command in the wake of his favourites. " Dang it ! 

 they're off," exclaims a farmer, who had stationed him- 

 self on the crest of the hill, diving, at a gallop, down a 

 stony darkling lane, overgrown with alder, brambles, 

 honeysuckle, all the garden produce of uncultivated 

 nature, lush and steaming in decay. The field, con- 

 sisting of the Squire, three or four strapping yeomen, a 

 parson, and a boy on a pony, follow his example, and 

 making a good turn in the valley, find themselves 



Q 



