154 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



distant piqueurs to let go their coupled-up packs ; 

 when, leaving and shirking all company, I dived 

 on a line of my own down into the darkest and most 

 intricate part of the wood, gave Coco to my groom, 

 and then proceeded on foot for a hundred yards, and 

 posted myself in a line with the approaching cry. 

 The three old hounds were running hard with a 

 scent ; but the avalanche of delirious animals now 

 let go, without any scent at all, soon overpowered 

 their cry, and came bellowing on like a flood of 

 noise let out of a sluice, one behind the other, and in 

 a continuous stream, diverging only as each hound 

 fancied which was or was not the shortest way to 

 the fun. Such a noise I never heard ; instead of 

 seventeen or eighteen couples — there could not 

 have been more — they made noise enough for two 

 hundred mouths, and little tomtits came chattering 

 by, in terror, as if they thought the underwood be- 

 witched. It soon became evident to my ear that 

 the avalanche of hounds in more than one place had 

 crossed wolves, and that a litter was on foot ; for 

 now the three old hounds kept on, perhaps with the 

 old vixen wolf purposely leading them away, and the 

 two other cries turned right and left, and one of 

 them headed back for the high road. Presently a 

 portion of the hounds came directly towards a new 



