THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 25 



Hearing the heavy stride of a horse in our 

 rear, I turned my head to see who was 

 following. 



' ' Take no notice, ' ' said the old hound : 

 " If Ned gets to our heads — and he'll prick 

 blood for it, I'll be sworn — the sport's all 

 over with us. " 



" What the deuce does he want to stop us 

 for? " inquired I. 



"Pooh," rejoined Trimbush. "Rattle on." 



The second whip came spurring on with the 

 evident desire of reaching us; but the faster 

 he came, the faster we flew. 



"Ha, ha! " laughed Trimbush; " we'U 

 give ye a sob for it." 



Along two open grass fields we led the 

 whipper-in; and then, for more than a mile, 

 up a long, narrow lane, flanked by two high 

 banks. 



" I haven't carried a bit of scent since we 

 left the turf," observed I. 



" Nor I either," replied my companion, 



" Then what's the use of flashing on in this 

 way? " I asked. 



" You've no cunning in ye yet," replied 

 Trimbush, " or you wouldn't ask such a 

 simple question. However, so much the better. 



