270 HA.RE-HUNTING AND HARRIERS 



is, she has judged correctly. Hounds check here for 

 close on five minutes, by which time the Master is up, 

 and, it being evident that the hare must have gone 

 over, the pack is holloaed and encouraged across. 

 A welcome bridge, a little to the left, gives access to 

 the runners, and the chase is hotly resumed. Over 

 the road presently swings the pack, still bearing a 

 little right-handed. More running, more jumping ; 

 these dykes seem interminable. The limits of the 

 marsh are reached, and it looks as if the hare were 

 going to climb the little hill towards Hooe. But no ! 

 her bent is still for the marsh. On, on over the never 

 ending pastures, till we are close upon the Sluice, 

 where the marsh river finds access to the sea, and 

 a little old-fashioned inn, notable in the old days as a 

 favourite haunt of smugglers, nestles amid a few 

 trees, solitary upon the levels. Still going right- 

 handed, we come to a loose gravelly road and check 

 once more. 



Here hounds are at fault for a minute or two, until 

 old Captain, our famous road-hound, proclaims the 

 fact that the hare has betaken herself to the roadway. 

 Slowly we pick it out up a little eminence, whence the 

 sea, quite near at hand upon our left, gleams a clear 

 steel-blue. Its surface, scarce broken by a ripple, is 

 dotted with brown-sailed fishing smacks, which push 

 with difficulty out into the Channel, so little does the 

 faint breeze assist them. Two hundred yards from 

 the flat shore line floats, on the calm water, a long 

 string of scoters, the " black duck " of sea-fowlers. 

 They are worthless for powder and shot, and hence, 

 probably, their immunity ; so fishy is their flesh 

 that, in Catholic countries, they may be eaten during 

 Lent or on fast days, a poor tribute, indeed, to their 

 value as table-birds. 



