In Old Virginia 153 



must make our train. We were ushered out 

 by the President with the exclamation, " I 

 wish I were going with you, boys; I wish I 

 were going with you! " and we all felt the sin- 

 cerity and comradeship of the wish. 



Hunting deer in Virginia with dogs where 

 swamps and underbrush predominate, stand- 

 ing on a crossing while the drive is being made, 

 with the rain and sleet pelting into your face, 

 is not the pleasantest experience. The " toot, 

 toot " of the old cow-horn can be heard a long 

 way off as it is returned from echoing hills, re- 

 verberating through the timber as the guide 

 encourages the hounds to make a start; then 

 you feel as the sound changes from one loca- 

 tion to another that j^our guide is not smoking 

 his pipe of peace in some old hollow tree with 

 his pack around him, or possibly taking his 

 little nap while the hunter is waiting in dilapi- 

 dated suspense at the crossing. Presently 

 while thus waiting anxiously to hear the 

 hounds give tongue, in the distance was heard 

 the sharp, short yelp of one of the young 

 hounds, indicating that he had struck a cold 

 trail. About this time old Dan, the veteran 



