44 The Hunting Field With Horse and Hound 



"Rastus," (formerly his body servant) on a pony-built horse, 

 a Hne in his hand leading to six uncommonly fine looking 

 hounds. Hannah and three or four of her eight ebonies stood 

 at one corner of the porch ; six or eight nigger boys and stable- 

 men and plantation hands were looking on from the other 

 positions about the grounds. 



Meanwhile, our own horses are led around into the front 

 yard. Then up rides Jim, bigger and prouder than all com- 

 bined, with six as nondescript looking hounds as ever wore a 

 slip, crowding and straining at their lines, enough to pull the 

 happy Jim, horse and all, wherever they wished. What a 

 picture! The dignified Colonels, the laughing negroes, the 

 eager hounds! 



Just as we were ready to start, a delegation of politicians 

 drove in to see Col. Thorpe, and we were obliged to go with- 

 out him, Col. Sacket taking command. 



"Jim," called Col. Thorpe, "Oh, Jim." 

 Jim rode up to the porch. 



"Now, Jim," said his master, "y^^ \o6k sharp. Don't you 



let those Sacket hounds get the best of our Ginger (Col. 



Thorpe's favourite foxhound). If you can help her to lead 



fair and square, you'll be the best damn nigger on the place, 



but mind, if ever I heah of your doing any crookedness, you're 



a dead nigger, you heah me?" 



"All righ', Sah," rephed Jim, "I take good care 'bout all 



dat." "No dog war ever born what could head old Ginger," 



added Jim. 



"Marster wouldn't ha' missed this yher chase for five 



hundred dollars," said Jim as an apology for his master's 



absence. "It mus' be pow'ful 'portant business what keep 



him home when a fox hunt is on. Nothin' but death ever 



stop him afore. Wish we had gone fo' dem gentlemen come." 



Col. Sacket and the writer rode on together, while old 



Rastus with Col. Sacket's, and Jim with Col. Thorpe's, 



