230 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



cry with her head up, every French hound there 

 doinoj his utmost to increase the din, and Bavard 

 and the other English hounds walking on either side 

 of them in mystified astonishment, while old Windsor 

 twice went through a canine attitude of contempt, as 

 if he thought three legs were quite enough on which to 

 make his observation. I stood stock still, and, being 

 down wind of tlie babbling culprits, they deemed they 

 were safely, and with impunity, amusing their masters ; 

 but, as soon as the little harrier's nose came within a 

 foot of my boots, I let them know that there was an 

 English looker-on who was fully down on their pre- 

 tended chase, and, with considerable complacency on 

 their parts, my scornful rate brought them all short 

 up. They saw at once that I did not like it ; not one 

 attempted to pass me right or left ; some scratched ; 

 the old howling bitch sat down, and all would have 

 been too happy to have done no more — when I heard 

 a struggling, growling, whining, loud, odd tongue 

 coming along the exact line of the babblers I had 

 stopped, and in a short time the poor old thing that 

 had been ripped to pieces by a boar, and who was 

 only thoroughly whole or alive in his fore parts, as 

 before described, came in sight, struggling with the 

 opposing underwood, and growling at it. All the 

 hounds turned their heads, in the coolest way I ever 



