From Fox's Earth 



the hunt, howling as it went. Again the dark 

 form vanished by the woodbine-cushioned trunk 

 at the lower end of the island. It reappeared. 

 The hounds were hard upon it. Almost together 

 they reached where the two branches of the 

 stream meet at a shallowing or ford. They 

 rolled and splashed in a heap. The dogs were 

 uppermost. It was a kill. The otter slid from 

 under into the deep water. 



The music subsided, but not the strain. Out- 

 look and expectation were alike tense : conditions 

 under which anything may happen. One excited 

 old party seemed to have lost his wite. " There, 

 there! Tally ho! Tally ho!" His eyes were 

 starting ; but that he was bald, his hat would have 

 risen on his head. The field gathered round, 

 eagerly watching the wagging and pointing fin- 

 ger. " A blessed water-hen ! " cried the hunts- 

 man drily. Piper's catch was crawling up the 

 bank. " Who Tallied ? " came the stern challenge 

 from the master. The culprit's eyes were fixed 

 upon his boots ; he was markedly silent for the 

 rest of the hunt. " Three of you were at it 

 together, in different parts of the field." So it 

 was. The intoxication was general. Men saw 

 visions. 



There was reason for protest. It was unfair to 

 the huntsman, the master, the dogs ; it drew 

 them away from their proper work. It made of 

 the hunt a sort of general thing, a farce. The 



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