204 STAGHUNTING WITH THE 



Combe the hounds can run after them as 

 much as they hke, and I daresay it will be 

 all right. How the horses pound along ! It must 

 be jolly hard work carrying great fat men on 

 their backs like they do. I wonder they put 

 up with it. I should like to see anv man touch 

 me ! I could throw him yards and then spike 

 him as well if I liked, but those horses don't 

 seem to know anv better ; they are nearly as 

 fat as the men. Hark ! I hear them all down 

 by Cloud. Now, they're coming back again, I 

 must lie low, for 'twould never do to be found 

 here now with all my herd scattered to the 

 four winds. I shouldn't know where to look 

 for a deer to help me, and really running 

 makes me feel quite faint the last season or 

 two. Who is that yelling now? That's Christo- 

 pher Birmingham, unless I've forgotten his voice. 

 That three atop stag I gave such a thrashing 

 to is coming back, no doubt. I hope he won't 

 bring those beastly hounds up to me. I think 

 I'll slip off into Landcombe : there's more 

 shelter there, and I might presently get a chance 

 to draw away altogether out of this noisy place, 

 for there seem to be people everywhere to-day 

 and I shan't get a wink after all this fuss. 

 Hark ! how they talk and laugh ! I can't see 

 what they can find to laugh about. I don't see 

 anything funnv in such a row on a nice quiet 

 dav. And just listen to those hounds too ! I 



