5 8 REDPAD THE FOX 
from their tired horses. One was the man on the 
black horse who had ridden so well that day, and 
the other was the huntsman. The latter tried to 
climb out along the tree to Redpad, but it swayed 
so perilously that he was forced to return. 
' It 's no use, sir,' he said. ' I am afraid we 
can't reach him there. Shure, it 's a pity for the 
hounds not to chop him afther all, afther the way 
they hunted him.' 
' It was as fine a hunt as ever I saw,' answered the 
other. Then looking at Redpad's half-closed eyes, 
he added : ' But that fellow will never run again 
he is dead beat, and it is a pity they did not run into 
the poor brute back yonder where he lay down. 
At all events he has cheated us of his brush, for he 
was as plucky a fox as I ever saw.' 
With this, his requiem, in his ears, Redpad 
stretched out his muzzle on his pads and closed 
his eyes, as he had done many a morning in the old 
earth in Knockdane. The light of the after-glow 
lit up the bright coats of the two men and the tired 
hounds behind. They were only a few yards away, 
yet he knew that they could not reach him, and 
therefore paid no further attention to them. The 
water lip-lapped round the willow, and the roar of 
the flood deepened as twilight fell, and the night 
wind shivered in the aspens. A waterhen called, 
