TWO HARE-HUNTS 



This time the hare seems to have been thoroughly- 

 alarmed at her narrow escape, and, abandoning her 

 ringing tactics, she pushes now in a straight line to- 

 wards the sea. Putting on a tremendous burst of speed, 

 she gets well away again from that hateful proximity, 

 and presently moves on her course three hundred yards 

 ahead of the clamouring pack. 



Curiously enough, scent has marvellously improved 

 again, and the chase now sweeps hotly across the 

 pastures. Pursuing our course steadily over meadow 

 and dyke, the latter sometimes jumpable, sometimes 

 only to be crossed by aid of a kindly plank, we toil on 

 in rear. At length we near a vast stretch of shingle, 

 three miles long by half a mile broad, recovered by 

 nature, centuries ago, from the sea which once 

 whelmed it. A notable haunt this of ring-plovers and 

 other birds. Over this distressing shingle it is clear the 

 sinking hare has betaken herself, in the hope of finally 

 baffling those inexorable pursuers. Vain hope ! The 

 pack are close up now : and, as they swing forward 

 over yonder broad, gleaming stretch of beach, even 

 there, upon that almost impossible surface for scent, 

 the well-nosed hounds manage somehow to hold the 

 line. Arrived at the middle of this pebbly plain the 

 hare has shot her final bolt, and squats once more. 

 The main body of the pack flash past, and for a few 

 minutes are at fault. Not so three hounds. Woodman, 

 Bounty, and Abel, which nose out the quarry, push 

 her up once more, and after a few ineffectual turns 

 seize and kill her. And so, betwixt sea and land, 

 on this strange waste of shore, this stout hare yields 

 up her life. Two men, at work hard by loading 

 shingle, run up and save the dead quarry from being 

 torn in pieces, and as we footmen reach the scene — 

 there are only four of us at hand — one of the navvies 



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