o 



8 THE OLD PACK 



thorouQfhbred. A few more men are de- 

 scending the slope we have just left behind, 

 but they are riding to us rather than to 

 hounds. This Is the bottom. A complica- 

 tion of muddy, swampy stream, with rotten 

 banks, ragged alders, half-broken rails, and 

 a piece of chain to keep cattle from walking 

 up the bed makes an obstacle which causes 

 us to rejoice that we are on an Irish one. 

 By giving him his own way we get over 

 and tackle the " bank " the other side of 

 the valley, perhaps four hundred feet high, 

 and really nearly as steep as the proverbial 

 "side of a house." Up and up we struggle, 

 hounds getting away from us at each step. 

 Fortunately the fences are full of gaps or 

 else provided with handy gates, for who 

 could jump at this angle? At last our 

 sobbing steeds top the hill, but hounds are 



