30 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



for hounds are meadows ahead of the field, and it gradu- 

 ally dies away. Hell for leather we go, and, having 

 gained our " second wind," we very soon pick up ground 

 and draw up with the van. 



" The otter's ' watched ' (gone to ground), for a pony ! " 

 ejaculates the long-limbed, clean-built M.O.H., as a 

 sudden bend of the river reveals the pack feathering 

 under an over-shoot. 



Pell-mell goes the " field," led by the lengthy and 

 athletic Master, while several fair Dianas hold their own 

 with the best of us. 



While search is being made for the " holt," one of the 

 game little broken-haired terriers who has wandered on 

 a voyage of discovery above the weir on his own account 

 approaches too near the fall, and the next moment he is 

 washed like a cork into the boiling torrent below. Strik- 

 ing a boulder at the foot of the fall, and apparently half- 

 stunned, he is borne helplessly down-stream. 



Now, these game terriers are the joy and pride of the 

 hunt, and in less time than it takes to record the fact 

 the Master's brother, who acts the part of whipper-in, 

 has dragged off his boots and is swimming through the 

 broken water to rescue the half-drowned " little offerer." 

 With powerful strokes the plucky whip very soon reaches 

 the terrier, and a cheer goes up as he regains the bank, 

 dripping like a huge retriever, but with his prize safely 

 gathered. 



A dose of whisky is administered to the still half-dazed 

 and well-nigh-drowned terrier, the hero of the moment 

 runs up to a neighbouring farm-house to obtain a change 

 of clothing, and then the second terrier is sent into the 

 " holt " to try and bolt the otter. 



