Across Country with Greyhounds 5 



the open, affecting the most barren places. A bit of 

 tar weed or sage was enough for him, and even when 

 chased he despised cover and always turned to the 

 grim mountains and ran up grade, doubtless to wind 

 the horse. 



There were twenty or more hunters, all well mounted 

 on wiry fast-running horses, the master of the hounds 

 in the lead behind the dogs. There were greetings, 

 mutual congratulations that you were alive in God's 

 country on such a day, and some men took off their 

 sombreros at the splendid tints and colours of the 

 mountains that, a wall of rock, five or six thousand feet 

 high and forty miles wide, shut out the land and valley 

 from the rest of the world. 



The hunt moved slowly along the eucalyptus groves, 

 then at the word turned in, each horse taking a line 

 or avenue, the dogs spreading out. Down the long, 

 leafy parterres you could see blue vistas of sky, catch 

 glimpses of distant mountains, while the air was filled 

 with the aroma of the eucalyptus as the horses' hoofs 

 cut the underbrush. 



The plan was to sweep through the grove and drive 

 out any jack that might be lying there. When half- 

 way through, a quick cry from the master of hounds 

 gave the word to the dogs, that dashed ahead, out into 

 the open, twenty yards or so behind a jaunty, fluffy, 

 tall-eared thing that bounded on as though its feet bore 

 rubber cushions, while with a roar of sounds the hunt 

 swept on in a long line at full and splendid speed. 



