From Fox's Earth 



veteran was avenged of the sceptics. The en- 

 vironment was forgotten, the drama was every- 

 thing. The darg led to an islet; of all we had 

 seen, the most capable of a prolonged siege. On 

 the main bend were deep overhanging banks, 

 with gnarled old trunks hollowed out by age and 

 storm. Breast high, flapped the great rhubarb- 

 like leaves of the butterbur. The water was 

 low. 



From the far side, beyond the leaves, the 

 huntsman "Tally-ho-ed." There the lesser limb 

 of the stream hugged the base of a steep bank, 

 and had fretted a long tunnel, whose roof was 

 bound by the spreading tree roots. The darg 

 was hot indeed. The bell-notes of the otter- 

 hounds rang through the prolonged howl of the 

 crosses. Over the islet, hidden by the big leaves, 

 careered the hunt. "Tally-ho! he has just 

 passed me, and a big dog-otter too." 



"Tally-ho!" cried one of the anglers who had 

 joined the hunt, as a dark form vanished amid 

 the climbing woodbine and rank herbage around 

 the base of a great trunk at the lower part of the 

 island. " Tally-ho ! " came in a lady's clear treble, 

 as he showed his nose above the muddied water 

 of the larger limb of the stream. Perhaps I am 

 too fastidious. But is it quite fair, in a contest 

 between dog and otter, for the field who place 

 themselves well-nigh at every point of vantage, 

 and are, at best, only accidents of the hunt to 



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