THE DEER SUN?. 143 



westward. The sound of the chase grew fainter and 

 fainter, as it receded, until it was lost to the ear in the 

 distance, and the low voice of the morning breeze 

 whisperin' among the forest leaves, alone was heard. 

 After a few minutes, I heard, faint and far off, the 

 music of the chase again, swellin' up in the distance, 

 and then dyin' away like the sound of a flute in the 

 distance, when the night air is still. Louder and 

 more distinct it came, as the dogs coursed over a dis- 

 tant ridge. I stood, aa I said, at the head of a shal- 

 low but broad ravine, or rather valley ; to the right 

 and left, the ridge stretched away like a horse-shoe, 

 leavin' within its curve a densely- wooded hollow. I 

 heard the hounds as they crossed this ridge far below 

 me, loud and joyous, makin' the woods vocal with the 

 melody of their voices. Again the music died away, 

 as they plunged into the hollow way before me, until 

 it seemed to come up like the faint voice of an echo, 

 from that leafy dell. Again it swelled louder, and 

 fiercer, as the chase changin' its direction swept up the 

 valley. Louder and louder grew the music ; I heard 

 the measured bounds of a deer, as he dashed up the 

 ridge on which I stood, some forty rods from me, and 

 wheelin' suddenly from the direction in which he was 



