52 REDPAD THE FOX 
The afternoon was dull and raw. The frost 
had gone, and the fields in the plain were studded 
with pools of flood water, for much rain had fallen. 
Redpad in his lair was awakened by a frightened 
woodcock which dropped down just in front of 
him. He sat up suspiciously with cocked ears, 
for it is not the way of woodcock after a clear night 
to shift their quarters undisturbed. There was 
a faint halloa at the top of the hill : ' Try-Tra-i-y.' 
Redpad slipped silently from the warm lair, and 
the Beloved followed him, for they both knew the 
meaning of that sound. Suddenly there was a 
joyous ' yow-yow-yow.' ' Hike ! hike ! ' came the 
shout again ; and Redpad trotted down the hill, 
for although the heather hemmed him in, he knew 
well enough what was forward on the summit. 
There is a low stone wall at the foot of Kilmanagh 
which separates a thick gorse brake from the fields, 
and Redpad squatted down behind it to watch. 
The hounds were gradually working down the hill. 
There was a man on a horse standing at a corner 
of the field, and all at once he waved his cap above 
his head. The Grey One was slinking down the 
fence. He had crossed the first field when a couple 
of hounds gave tongue close by. His heart failed 
him he swung round to the covert again, leaped 
over Redpad with a snarl, and galloped back up 
