330 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 



a rabbit and now getting a sound rating for his mistake 

 from the whipper-in. He goes ki-yi-ing back, with a 

 stinger from the whipper-in's crop that raises his hair. 



The hunters shout ; 



The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes ; 

 The pack, wide op'ning, load the trembling air 

 With various melody ; from tree to tree 

 The propagated cry redoubling bounds, 

 And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy 

 Thro' all the regions near. 



Listen ! A whimper. 



" Speak to it ! " cries the huntsman, as he sees his 

 favourite feathering wildly. " Speak to it, Quickstep ! " 



But Quickstep will not tell a lie, no matter how much 

 the huntsman encourages her. Hearing this cheer to 

 Quickstep, several hounds rush to her side, Trumpeter among 

 the others; but even that great-nosed hound cannot hit it off. 

 They are most likely on the "drag " of the fox, that is, the 

 line he took when he entered covert early in the morning 

 on his way to kennel. 



Then, cross-examining with curious nose 

 Each likely haunt hark ! on the drag I hear 

 Their doleful notes, preluding to the cry. 

 They push, they drive, while from his kennel there 

 The conscious villain, see, he sulks along. 



Another whimper. " Speak to it, Bluebells ! Speak to 

 it ! " cries the huntsman. 



" Tally-ho, tally-ho ! Gone away, gone away, gone 



