222 The Hunting Grounds 



gang-beaters and dogs descended the ravine by a 

 circuitous route, so as to drive the game up the hill, 

 and force it to break towards that side where we were 

 lying concealed. I also ordered the Gooroo and AH 

 to remain with my polygar dogs on the high ground, 

 so as to be ready in case any of the deer should get 

 away wounded, which afterwards turned out a lucky 

 hit. After nearly half an hour's suspense, certain 

 sounds issued from below which informed us that the 

 beaters and dogs had entered the lower end of the 

 cover, and presently a low yelp told us that one of 

 the pack had taken up the scent. " Hark to old 

 Ponto !" cried the Major, who was ensconced behind 

 a rhododendron-bush a few paces distant from me ; 

 and a smile of contentment gleamed over the time- 

 worn and weather-beaten physiognomy of the old 

 sportsman as he recognised the voice of his favourite 

 hound. " Hush ! hark ! there he goes again. The 

 game 's afoot, take my word for it. He never gives 

 tongue without a cause, so pass the word along the 

 line to keep a bright look-out. There goes Rupert 

 and Gelert chiming in/' Shortly after this prelude, 

 hound after hound opened on scent and took up the 

 cry, until at last the harmonious chorus burst forth 

 from the ravine, and awoke the echoes of the sur- 

 rounding woods. I need not describe to sportsmen 

 the intense excitement and pleasurable sensations this 

 melody raised in our hearts 5 for we knew that the 



