A BOBBERY PACK 51 



stocked, as no fewer than twenty-two hungry souls turned 

 up to breakfast, nearly half of whom had either hacked or 

 driven out of town long before sunrise, amongst them a 

 keen little Irish sportswoman, who declared in the richest of 

 brogue that, " sure if she had a five-pound note for ivery 

 drag she'd seen run with the King's otterhounds, it's a 

 warm woman she'd be to-day, indade." 



The expression of Tom's weather-beaten face when we 

 took him round to inspect the " pack " which was 

 playing merry Hades in the stables would have been worth 

 a "Jew's eye" to a "Leech"; and no fond mother 

 ever hugged her offspring closer while passing through a 

 mob than did honest Tom his couple of aristocratic 

 English foxhounds when the canine rabble tried to 

 strike up an acquaintance with them. 



" 'Ware cur-dog, Amazon ! Hold up. Guardsman — get 

 out ye ugly, yallow varmint " (with a flying kick at one 

 of the Kafir dogs which had evidently fallen violently in 

 love with old Amazon). " Dear me, I never set eyes on 

 such a lot o' rag-tailed divils in all my born days," cried 

 Tom in dismay as he whipped off the nondescript pack 

 from his beloved hounds. Gad, they were a lot of rag- 

 tailed devils in very truth, as Jack Mervin, M.O.H., 

 was bound to confess. 



No sooner had the " noble " animals been released from 

 durance vile than two and a half of the twelve and a half 

 couples started off on a bee-hne across the veld for town 

 and home, while the Kafir mongrel and his late companion 

 in distress — the half-bred Airedale — commenced a battle 

 royal to decide which of them should retain possession of a 

 shoulder of blesbok that had been commandeered by the 

 former from the breakfast-table. With much rating and 



