86 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
Suddenly the topmost branches of the great oak begin to 
shake, and seem to be lashing the face of the moon. 
“De cat! de cat! look out down dar!’ The dogs burst 
into an eager howl! He is shaking him off! A dark object 
comes thumping down into our midst, and shakes the ground 
with its fall. The eager dogs rush upon it! but we saw the 
spotted thing with the electric flashing of its eyes. Yells 
and sputtering screams—the howls of pain—the gnashing 
growls of assault—the dark, tumbling struggle that is rolled, 
with its fierce clamors, out from our fire-light into the dark 
shadows of the wood, are all enough to madden us. 
We all rush after the fray, and strike wildly into its midst 
with the clubs and dead limbs we have snatched, when one 
of the body-guards happens to think of his axe, and with a 
single blow settles it! 
All is over! We get home as we may, and about the 
time 
«—— the dapple grey coursers of the morn 
Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs, 
And chase it though the sky,” 
we creep cautiously into our back window, and sleep not the 
less profoundly for our fatigue, that we have to charge our 
late hour of rising, next day, upon Bacop ar the Tliad, ir- 
stead of the “Night Hunt.” 
