WARWICK WOODLANDS. 139 



the night, some sixteen miles from home, in the rude 

 hovel of a charcoal burner. 



"Greater excitement I cannot imagine, than that wild, 

 independent chase! — sometimes on foot, cheering the 

 hounds through swamp and dingle, over rough cliffs and 

 ledges where foot of horse could avail nothing. Some- 

 times on horseback, galloping merrily through the more 

 open woodlands. Sometimes careering in the flying sleigh, 

 to the gay music of its bells, along the wild wood-paths! 

 Well did we fare, too — ay, sumptuously! — for our out- 

 skirters, though they reserved their rifles for the appro- 

 priate game, were not so sparing with the shot-gun; so 

 that, night after night, our chaldron reeked with the 

 mingled steam of rabbit, quail, and partridge, seethed up 

 d la Meg Merrilies, with fat pork, onions, and potatoes — 

 by the Lord Harry! Frank, a glorious and unmatched 

 consummee. 



"To make, however, a long tale short — for every day's 

 work, although varied to the actors by thousands of min- 

 ute but unnarratable particulars, would appear but as a 

 repetition of the last, to the mere listener — to make a long 

 tale short, on the third day he doubled back, took us 

 directly over the same ground — and in the middle of the 

 day, on Saturday, was roused in view by the leading 

 hounds, from the same little swamp in which the five 

 had harbored during the early winter. No man was near 

 the hounds when he broke covert. But fat Tom, who had 

 been detached from the party to bring up provisions from 

 the village, was driving in his sleigh steadily along the 

 road, when the sharp chorus of the hounds aroused him. 

 A minute after, the lame scoundrel limped across the 

 turnpike, scant thirty yards before him. Alas! Tom had 

 but his double-barrel, one loaded with buck shot, the other 

 merely prepared for partridge — he blazed away, however, 

 but in vain! Out came ten couple on his track, hard 

 after him; and old Tom, cursing his bad luck, stood to 

 survey the chase across the open. 



"Strange was the felon's fate! The first fence, after 

 he had crossed the road, was full six feet in height, 

 framed of huge split logs, piled so close together that, 

 save between the two topmost rails, a small dog even could 

 have found no passage. Full at this opening the wolf 



