248 THE HUNTING FIELD 



the crash of his redoubtable dog pack forcing their way to the 

 spot. Presently Jack Stevens's halloo away ! was heard from 

 below, and joy and fear became depicted on every face. 

 Scream ! screech ! twang, twang, crack, crack, whoop ! 

 whoop ! all noise, bustle, and confusion — yonder he goes ! 

 Which way! over the hill! No, he's turned! Now d'ye see 

 him ? No, I don't ! Yes, I do ! No, it's a dog ! 



" Folknu inc, I know the country," cried the Captain to his 

 pupil, as he hustled along, jostling two or three funkers out of 

 their places, and leaping over the gorse and brushwood that 

 obstructed his path, he dived down into the bottom. The 

 Second Whip brought Osbaldeston his horse, and the Captain 

 and Milksop start fair with the hounds, followed by all the 

 bold boys of the count}'. It's a rare burst ! and there's a rare 

 scent ! 



It was worth going a long way to see Osbaldeston ride Pilot, 

 or any of his 



" Cock horses to Banbury Cross," 



followed by that best of good Whips, Jack Stevens, and our 

 pen even now inclines to follow the Squire instead of sticking 

 to the subject at the head of our paper — Captain Shabby- 

 hounde. The Squire, however, and we must part for the 

 present, for the Captain durst not ride before him, and his 

 object now was to break the fences for his new acquaintance, 

 and show what a wonderful horse he was on. Accordingly at 

 the first divergible point the Captain struck off to the left, 

 clearing four stiff rails instead of opening the bridle gate 

 which they joined. Milksop followed him, for all lads like 

 leaping, and they presenth' found themselves in great enjoy- 

 ment among the bullfinches. The Squire's red coat on the 

 right acted as a sort of guide, and first one, and then the 

 other, went at the fences, as though they would eat them. 

 Milksop was no shirker, on the contrary he would take 



