336 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 



whip or spur. Still we are gaining. Quickstep is not a 

 rod behind Renard's brush. "Hie! Hie! Hie!" shouts 

 every rider, in one mighty effort and final rally to hounds 

 and horse. " Whoop ! whoop ! " as the prowling chicken- 

 thief rolls over in the opening. 



The huntsman jumps off" his horse, takes the fox from 

 the hounds, and pockets the masks, pads, and brush. Then, 

 with a tooting of his horn, he calls the stray hounds and 

 riders in, and with " He was a jolly good fellow ! " Renard's 

 carcass is thrown high in the air, to light in the centre of 

 the snapping, snarling pack. " Break him, my beauties, 

 break him ! " 



Meantime riders have dismounted. Some have thrown 

 themselves full length on the grass. Like their horses, 

 they are done to a turn. For you and me, Novice, let us 

 ease our saddle-girths and lead our mounts to a knoll 

 where they can get the refreshing air, while we tell them 

 they are the best in the stable, or at least give them some 

 worthy compliment on their endurance. 



A lady rider, Miss Frances, whom we met at the 

 meet, is presented with the brush. Mr. Arthur, among 

 others, rides up to congratulate her, and the two ride off 

 together. The mask goes to a visiting gentleman from 

 Boston. Novice receives a pad. His friends surround 

 him and "blood" his face with it in due and ancient form. 



And now we trot toward home in the wake of the 

 hounds, tired, but as happy as we are tired all except the 

 jealous riders who have been cut out by Blackhorse. 

 The steeplechaser lately imported on the quiet from Canada 

 has done the job. Blackhorse, to be sure, is very fond of 



