30 RACECOURSE AND COVERT SIDE. 



' No, I haven't,' said Eyves. ' No ; an un- 

 common poor show, I should call it.' 'And do 

 you know why ? ' says Eyves. ' No ; I can't say 

 that I do,' Barker answers. ' Well, then, I'll 



just tell you,' Eyves says, and " 



A burst of music from the covert, a blast of 

 Sir Henry's horn, Charlie's voice, and a halloa 

 from the first whip, bring the story to a very 

 abrupt termination. The men to the left of us 

 are off at a gallop, and we follow, to the discom- 

 fiture of the story-teller ; and what it was that 

 Eyves said to Barker I never expect to hear. 

 Down the hill we go, retracing, in fact, our steps 

 from the wood into which the hounds were at 

 first thrown, and here a somewhat curious sight 

 presents itself. '* Look there ! " says one of the 

 farmers, pointing high up among the branches 

 of a lofty oak. We look, but see nothing. 

 "What is it?" we ask. ''Uon't you see? 

 Look. Up there — just by where that pigeon 

 flew. It's the old vixen, as sure as you're 

 born ! " And there she is, surely enough. A 

 good sixty feet fi-om the ground, peering down 

 upon us from a thick bough, we note her crafty 

 face and pointed nose. Seeing that she is 

 observed, she climbs a little higher, makes her- 

 self quite comfortable, and looks at her foes as 

 she quietly scratches her ear with a hind pad. 



