60 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



*' took up the running," and he himself at last dis- 

 covered that the greasy water in which the outsides of 

 the copper saucepans were washed, and in which 

 those copper pans lay for a time in soak, was given 

 to the kennel, and mixed as a sort of soup with the 

 barley-bread. Here, then, was a terrible means by 

 which to account for the sickness in the hounds, and 

 orders were forthwith given for its discontinuance. 

 Having prayed a horse to be killed (there were one 

 or two kennel horses in store), I attended to the 

 mixing up of the barley-bread with warm water, and 

 assisted in pounding it very finely in the troughs, 

 desiring that the food might always be given cold. 

 When it was ready, whip in hand, I assumed the 

 kennel door, and, to the astonishment of the old 

 boiler (and, as I afterwards found, to the wrath of a 

 fellow called a huntsman), I drafted the thin hounds 

 and the delicate feeders in first, keeping back the 

 one or two hounds in prize-pig condition to the last. 

 This done, I inquired at what time they fed their 

 hounds the day before hunting, and found that they 

 did so as late in the day as possible ; and then again 

 — hear it, ye huntsmen of England ! — before they 

 we?it to hunt in the morning ! ! 



" Oh, St. Hubert !" I cried, '^ no wonder the hounds 

 knock up, and lie down to sleep for the wolf to devour 



