STOP FROM THE WOLF. 185 



" Oiii, le loup ! " I cried as I kept crossing the 

 headmost hounds and chiding them ; and when their 

 heads were all up, I called them in the contrary 

 direction. 



" Non, non ! " shrieked the girl, hair dishevelled, 

 and in such agitation as I scarce ever saw ; " not 

 that way ! Oh ! you do not understand — here is the 

 wolf, here, here ! " 



" Yes, I do understand," I rejoined ; " I know 

 where the wolf is, but I want the boar : " when, 

 having got the hounds together, I trotted off to a 

 portion of the forest about the spot where I suspected 

 we had changed. As I w^ent back, I saw two of our 

 old useless French hounds sitting outside the cover on 

 their haunches, with their heads up in the air, howling, 

 while three or four others at intervals came bellowing 

 on the line. St. Hubert befriended me. I had never 

 been in this part of the forest before ; but with an 

 instinctive knowledge of the ground, as luck would 

 have it, when I was not a hundred yards from the 

 spot where I intended to enter the woods in an 

 attempt to recover the wild boar, a tall man in a 

 blouse rushed into view to meet me in joyous excite- 

 ment, shouting, while he pointed with his hand in the 

 direction of the open country whence I had come, 



" Le loup est parti la-bas ! " 



