A HILL DAY 135 



"It's the Master's. I lent mine to Jack the whip 

 to use to get his horse out of Lairhope bog," said 

 Dave ; " he was in firm up to the withers and had 

 done strugghng ; so, as my saddle was a very old 

 one, I whipped it off, and we turned it up before 

 him and drew the horse's fore-feet out and put 

 them on the panels, and flicked him with our whips, 

 and at the first try he got out. But I bargained 

 that Jack was to ride home on my dirty saddle, and 

 I was to get his." 



" And how did you get off Softhope ? " pursued 

 Sandy. 



''We took down the water-gate, and Hfted the 

 hanging rail off," replied Davie ; '' but you came a 

 quicker road. Where did you get a gate in the march 

 fence ? " 



" Oh, about half-way down the rig on the other 

 side of the hill," replied his brother, winking at me. 



At the parting of the ways we were only one couple 

 of hounds short ; but of their followers only nine out 

 of about thirty starters survived, and of these six 

 were hill-bred men on hill-bred horses. 



Fourteen miles from our sleeping place, and eight 

 from the point where we were to meet the fresh 

 horses and some four couple of fresh hounds, and it 

 was dusk, and every minute of daylight was precious. 



" You'll save nearly a mile and a quarter if you cut 

 across behind Dryslade woods," shouted Sandy Oliver, 

 as he waved back '' Good-night." 



How I repented of taking this road may be imagined 

 when, five minutes later, hounds, without any warn- 

 ing, dashed off into the sombre woods on a red-hot 

 scent, screaming as if to waken the dead. Blowing 



