122 A MONTH IN THE FOKESTS OF FRANCE. 



the self-hunting of the old French hounds. When 

 the cry was the least too full or too fast to please 

 them^ they cut it, and went sneaking about to find a 

 scent for themselves ; and many a hearty rating, which 

 they understood from tone more than verbal expres- 

 sion, they got from me for hanging on my gun. My 

 friends, I know, will not believe it of their worthless 

 favourites, but some of these sensible old brutes, find- 

 ing, from past experience, that if they don't take care 

 of themselves as to too much work, their masters won't 

 (for French gentlemen, as long as they are not tired 

 themselves, will never see that their hounds are), will 

 not exert themselves at animals whom they know they 

 cannot catchy unless shot at and wounded. Hence, in 

 time, having learnt the use of the gun, if they find out 

 its position they will be for ever skirting for it ; and 

 as they know that the ride is the place where guns 

 are posted and the animals killed or wounded, they 

 separate from the honestly-working pack, and hang or 

 skirt for a ride wherever it may be, and are always 

 getting between the gun and an animal coming right 

 upon it, to the certain discomfiture of the shot. More 

 animals, wolves, boars, deer, and foxes, owe their 

 lives to the noisy skirting propensities of these hounds 

 in their crafty old age, than ever they assisted to kill 

 in their youth ; and if I could but get my friends to 



