SCIENCE OF FOXHUNTING. 213 



" I sfiy, Tom/' cried Dick, as they were nearing 

 a rasper, " does this nag of yours want much 

 looking after ? " 



" None at all, uncle ; give him his head, and he 

 will skim over everything like a swallow ; but he 

 won't stand pulling up at his fences. "We don't 

 do things in that fashion down here — haven't time 

 for it." 



The fox having recovered his wind by running 

 down wind, now turned his head apparently for his 

 first point, and having lingered awhile in a small 

 osier bed, through which he passed, the hounds 

 came out the other side in full chorus, going away 

 at a good rattling pace ; when, hearing the cry, 

 the cavalcade of horsemen began pressing upon 

 them, as is their practice in fast countries, fearing 

 they would give them the slip. 



" One minute, gentlemen, if you please," pleaded 

 Tom for his darlings. " Let 'em settle down once 

 more, and we shall do." 



" Hold hard ! " roared Dick. " Hang it, gentle- 

 men, hold hard ! " as half a dozen fire-eaters were 

 right in amongst the hounds. 



" It's no use rating them, uncle, we can't stop 

 'em ; but there is something t'other side of that 

 fence that will do it for us." 



" Oh 1 I see, water ! Wide, Tom ? " 



" Not very, but deep and muddy ; let him go,'* 

 and with a cheer to the pack now dashing head- 

 long into it, both were landed on the right side, 

 and on looking back, the fire-eaters were seen 

 cooling themselves in the stream ; but the select 



