EFFECTS OF A HUNTSMAN'S CHEER. 93 



" Good God ! we thought the boar had ripped you 

 up ! " 



Ha, ha, ha ! away, away ; and again we severed, 

 according to our ears or as our several fancies 

 dictated. 



Once more I found myself alone, and oh, how I 

 longed to shoot some of the old babbling French 

 hounds ! I was down on almost all of their dodges 

 that day. Finding they could not run up with the 

 foxhounds, they took no more notice of them or of 

 the hunted animal, but got together in twos and threes 

 and made fresh scents for themselves, either by crossing 

 the line that the foxhounds were on with and taking 

 it up heelway, or by hunting the footsteps of one of 

 their own stragglers, and at last, if they came on it 

 in a ride, hunting in full cry the steps of their own 

 masters. Leaving these old miscreants to their vices, 

 I kept on after the hounds, who were doing all they 

 could to beat their animal of chase, and presently 

 there was no doubt left in my own mind as to what 

 that beast of chase then was. The bay of the fox- 

 hounds became more continuous, and occasionally it 

 ceased in its light merry pursuant chime, and fell 

 into or became mixed up with a fierce bay. They're 

 on the old solitary we have heard of, who whets his 

 tusks on the bark of the birch trees by way of a card 



