BEASTS OF THE CHASE.— THE STAG. 59 



apparently as fresh as though he had only just been roused. 

 The cunning sportsmen are seen galloping back to meet us. 

 The day is theirs. They will have it all to themselves yet. 

 ' Ah ! it ain't over yet ! ' says a farmer on a little sandy-looking 

 grass-fed horse that was galloping more easily than we liked. 

 The hounds show now how they can race when they are on 

 good terms with their quarry. ' A horse down.' ' Yes, there 

 he is, to the right.' ' What brought him down ? ' ' He is 

 pumped out, like many others.' Still, Arthur on his chestnut 

 seems tied to his hounds, and we follow him as nearly as we 

 can to the edge of a large cover, and down a steep path, until 

 we see him pause. Here come the hounds straight to us, with 

 the stag not twenty yards ahead of them. 



He crosses the path at a bound. Like lightning Arthur 

 presses his horse to the point, and shouts, ' Tally-ho, back ! ' 

 ' What's that about ? ' ' Why, the hunted stag is lying close, 

 and has turned out another.' 



x\bout two minutes elapse before the hounds speak, then 

 there is a chorus of voices, and a crash down to the bottom. 

 All is silent again. We view him running down stream at a 

 sharp trot. But no hounds are after him ? Yes, they are ; 

 running in cover parallel to him. 



' Forrard ! ' shouts the whipper-in from the opposite side of 

 the wood, and we gallop in line down a dry watercourse, full of 

 boulders and roots, until we reach a turn in the valley. Hounds 

 are off the line. We all conclude he has gone down in deep 

 water. But ' Tally-ho ! ' from the whipper-in assures us that he 

 has once more broken cover. 



After strugglmg up the hill in line, and seeing Arthur 

 galloping away on his second horse, which has apparently 

 dropped from the clouds, we find that the time for nursing 

 our horses has arrived. Happily we are riding inside the 

 circle, and can see every yard of the run. Twenty minutes in 

 the open brings us to a long rocky ravine covered with brush- 

 wood, and glad enough we are to see Arthur casting his 

 hounds along the slope nearest to us. The hounds cannot 



