78 The Hunting Field With Horse and Hound 



an aimless sort of way. Mr. Bartel is in the midst of an 

 account of how Juno lost a cup, when up jumps Mr. Jack. 

 The hounds take an instant to recognise their game. They 

 spring to their chase, away go our mounts, who never wait to 

 receive the word. If you are ready, or can get ready on the 

 way, all right; but if you are not ready, no matter, go you 

 must; for you must remember these western horses can begin 

 running from a standstill and they know the game. 



First one hound then another leads. Dolly Varden is work- 

 ing for her usual position behind Black Peter, who is only a rod 

 ahead of her. On and on goes Mr. Jack. Hounds and horses 

 skim the ground like a flock of birds. A big fawn and white 

 hound now takes the lead. A few rods more and the game is 

 done. No ! you make a mistake ; ]Mr. Jack makes a sudden turn, 

 the hounds go on. One or two hounds make a pass at liim, but 

 he dodges right back through the hounds, Avho must take a wider 

 circle. Finally we are all straightened out again and once more 

 the race is on, but it is not for long. Once more Mr. Jack slips 

 past their snapping teeth, but this time Dolly Varden is where 

 she wants to be and as the hare doubles again, dodging the 

 other hounds, Dolly turns in alongside and with a snap of her 

 jaw catches Mr. Jack by the small of the back and throws him 

 feet uppermost high above her head only to light in the very 

 jaws of the pack, that now have their sharp noses pointed for 

 their game. It's all over ; Dolly Varden, having done the trick 

 to her satisfaction, has gone on for a rod or so and stretched 

 herself at full length on the grass, her nose to the breeze; her 

 lolling tongue, her panting sides and rolling eyes, tell us what 

 the effort has cost her in wind and strength. Man, horses, 

 hounds are quite content to rest awhile. 'Twas a glorious 

 charge, and as beautiful a run as one ever could wish to see. 



After half an hour we are moving on again over the plains, 

 until three Jack rabbits have entered the preliminary stage to 

 the making of a stew, then we return slowly homeward, tired 



