"Give the poor beast a chance."
I don't know whether he obeyed or not, as just then I made my last
double, and felt Jill's teeth cut through the fur of my scut and heard
them snap. I had dodged Jill, but Jack was right on to me and the wood
still twenty yards away.
I could not twist any more, it was just which of us could get there
first. I gathered all my remaining strength, for I was mad, mad with
terror, and bounded forward.
After me came Jack, I felt his hot breath on my flank. I jumped the
ditch, yes, I found power to jump that ditch where there was a rabbit
run just by the trunk of a young oak. Jack jumped after me; we must both
have been in the air at the same time. But I got through the rabbit run,
whereas Jack hit his sharp nose against the trunk of the tree and broke
his neck. Yes, he fell dead into the ditch.
I crawled on a few yards to a thick clump and squatted down, for I could
not stir another inch. So it came about that I heard them all talking on
the other side.
One of them said I was the finest hare he had ever coursed. Others, who
had dragged Jack out of the ditch, lamented his death, especially the
owner, who vowed that he was worth L50 and abused Tom. Tom, he said, had
caused him to be killed--I don't know how, but I suppose because he had
ridden forward and tried to turn me. The Red-faced Man also scolded Tom.
Then he added--
"Well, I am glad she got off, for she'll give us a good run with the
harriers one day.
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