CAPTURE OF THE POACHER. 239 



slipped out his foot, and left his shoe only prisoner, which 

 the wrathful hill-man sent at his head, accompanied by 

 some thundering Gaelic anathema. And now the poacher 

 dropped his gun ; perhaps he meant it as a lure, like the 

 fabled golden apple ; or, perhaps, it was done to favour his 

 speed. However this may be, he certainly made much 

 better play without it. 



When Donald, who was on the banks of the ravine, saw 

 how things were going on, he took the advantage of the 

 even ground, headed him, and then came down into the 

 chasm in front of him, so that our worthy friend was 

 placed between two fires. 



Thus have I seen two cunning terriers hem in a 

 poaching fox: they rage and press closely upon him 

 whilst the woods and mountains ring with their shrill 

 clamour. Meanwhile the insulted beast, fixed in a position 

 from which he sees no escape, bears his brush against a 

 rock, shows his white teeth, and commences gallant defen- 

 sive warfare. Not so our hero; he thought little of 

 deeds of arms ; of fine and imprisonment much. The 

 spectre turnkey was before him, and ugly visions of high 

 grated walls and solitary dungeons made him desperate. 

 With the vault of Grimaldi he seized hold of an impending 

 branch of birch, swung himself aloft by strength of arm, 

 and fairly escaped from the abyss, leaving his enemies 

 gazing up from below. He got a capital start, for the 

 hill-men could not extricate themselves with the same 

 alacrity. 



The bay being now broken, they had a beautiful race 

 over the moor; but the light-limbed foresters gained 

 ground ; the fugitive's pace became worse and worse ; he 



