302 



HUNTING. 



One special instance occurs to my recollection : My hounds 

 had met on several occasions at Game's Mill, a short distance 

 above the tidal point of the Harberton river, and so invariably 

 did they hit on a fine fresh drag that, long before they reached 

 the mill, neither whip nor rate would restrain them from break- 

 ing away in full cry up the beautiful meadows of the vale 

 above. But day after day there was no find ; every hole and 

 corner that would hold a rat was drawn, every open drain 

 searched, till at length the opinion 

 prevailed that the otter, after fish- 

 ing the upper stream, had gone 

 back to the salt-water cliffs below, 

 an impregnable fastness at all 

 times. 



A mere accident, how- 

 ever, proved the contrary. 

 The hounds one day were 

 enjoying the drag on thi 



The escape of the otter. 



water with the usual fruitless result, when a sharp thunder- 

 storm breaking overhead drove us for shelter into an old barn 

 crammed with wooden lumber that had long been stored within 

 its dry cob walls. Pulling our crusts out we had scarcely half 

 devoured them, when a restless terrier, called Fox, doubled his 

 tongue wildly, far down under the blocks of timber on which 

 we were seated. 



