90 HOUND AND HORN 



lustily, " My horse ! my horse ! or any horse ; let's 

 have some sort of horse ! " and was soon thundering 

 along. 



What a plight for an anxious recently fledged 

 Master of Hounds to find himself in. Instead of the 

 dignified and conventional entry so often rehearsed, 

 to appear on the scene in this headlong fashion. Yet 

 I could not help enjoying the humour of the thing, 

 though I saw with some dismay that we were 

 following hounds that appeared to be tied to their 

 fox, running in a direction away from the country 

 where we were expected, and where some important 

 members of the field would be waiting; and I also 

 thought with apprehension of Batters and the boy 

 away with one-third of the already too small pack 

 making for the hills. 



The laird came up, cutting a comic figure, hatless, 

 breathless, with stirrups six holes too short, and 

 crouching like an American jockey in his saddle, and 

 shining with excitement. 



^' They're running down by the river side and are 

 like crossing, and they're going to kill him," he gasped. 



But when we jumped the next fence and got down 

 to the banks we found the panting pack marking 

 at the mouth of a stone conduit. Asking the laird 

 where the other opening was, he said, ^' It leads 

 into a tile pipe which, I believe, comes away from 

 my laundry. Anyhow, I lost a ferret here lately, 

 and it was found there after the terrified laundry- 

 maid had run screaming to the gardener that there 

 was a serpent poking its nose out of a grating behind 

 the tubs." 



"Then, of course, we'll have to leave him and 



