I 4 6 HUNTING WITH DOGS. 



but a dog. Why they should have been Stepan's 

 faithful slaves no human reasoning could explain. 

 They could have picked up more by themselves 

 than he could give them. Poor fellow, he never 

 had any great abundance for himself. They had 

 to sleep outside the shanty, were kicked if they put 

 their noses inside, and were devoured by the mange, 

 which their master never seemed to think of 

 curing. As for breed they had none, or perhaps 

 I should say they had a touch of every breed in 

 them. Zizda was said to be in some way con- 

 nected with a race which they called ' harlequin ; ' 

 and if oddity of shape, oddness of eyes, and a 

 general unevenness of colour and outline, entitle 

 a dog to the name, old Zizda was a veritable 

 harlequin. He was a large dog with huge paws, 

 a very square head, wall eyes, a capital nose, and 

 indomitable pluck, which had from time to time 

 earned him the innumerable scars with which he 

 was marked from tail to muzzle. The other two 

 were utter mongrels, but staunch supporters of old 

 Zizda in any emergency. They were an old bitch 

 called Lufra, and a young dog, Orla, or ' The 

 Eagle.' I cannot refrain from giving the clogs' 

 names, .because they were such real heroes in the 

 chase, and good servants to me. 



The first duty of our day of rest, then, was to 

 feed our pack a duty often forgotten, and appre- 

 ciated by the dogs now as an unprecedented 



