THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 179 



strangely inarticulate voice. " What shall 

 we do if " 



V* It's useless to talk of what we shall do," 

 interrupted his master irritably, ** until we 

 learn what we can do. Draft the hounds." 



One by one was called from the lodging- 

 room by name, and after minutely examining 

 the eyes, nose and mouth, every hackle was 

 rubbed back to see if the slightest recent 

 abrasion of the skin had been made. At 

 length it came to my turn, and unfortunately 

 a scratch made by myself, while brushing a 

 flea from my neck in the morning, was found 

 just under my left ear. 



** Reload your gun," said the Squire. 



A trembling seized me at these words, so 

 that I could scarcely stand, and a film spread 

 itself across my eyes, which nearly blinded me. 



" Oh, sir," exclaimed Will Sykes, " don't 

 have him shot yet. It does not look to me 

 like a bite." 



" But it does to me," replied his master. 

 ;• What think you, Mark ? " 



The old man divided the hackles with his 

 thumb and finger, and after a careful 

 examination pronounced an opinion coincid- 

 ing with that of the huntsman. 



