SCIENCE OF FOXHUNTING. 213 



" I say, Tom/' cried Dick, as they were nearing 

 a rasper, " does this nag of yours want much 

 looking after ? " 



" None at all, uncle ; give him his head, and he 

 will skim over everything like a swallow ; but he 

 won't stand pulling up at his fences. We don't 

 do things in that fashion down here haven't time 

 for it." 



The fox having recovered his wind by running 

 down wind, now turned his head apparently for his 

 first point, and having lingered awhile in a small 

 osier bed, through which he passed, the hounds 

 came out the other side in full chorus, going away 

 at a good rattling pace ; when, hearing the cry, 

 the cavalcade of horsemen began pressing upon 

 them, as is their practice in fast countries, fearing 

 they would give them the slip. 



" One minute, gentlemen, if you please," pleaded 

 Tom for his darlings. " Let 'em settle down once 

 more, and we shall do." 



" Hold hard ! " roared Dick. " Hang it, gentle- 

 men, hold hard ! " as half a dozen fire-eaters were 

 right in amongst the hounds. 



" It's no use rating them, uncle, we can't stop 

 'em ; but there is something t'other side of that 

 fence that will do it for us." 



" Oh ! I see, water ! Wide, Tom ? " 



" Not very, but deep and muddy ; let him go," 

 and with a cheer to the pack now dashing head- 

 long into it, both were landed on the right side, 

 and on looking back, the fire-eaters were seen 

 cooling themselves in the stream ; but the select 



