Here, Jerry" (Jerry was the
huntsman), "just put the hounds into that place."
So Jerry put the hounds in, making dreadful noises to encourage them,
and of course I came out, as I did not wish to share the fate of my
future wife.
"That's him!" screeched Tom. "Look at the grey marks on his back."
"Yes, that's he right enough," shouted the Red-faced Man. "Lay them on,
Jerry, lay them on; we're in for a rattling run now, I'll warrant."
So they were laid on and I went away as hard as my legs would carry me.
Very soon I found that I had left all those curly-tailed dogs a long way
behind.
"Ah!" I said to myself proudly, "these beasts are not greyhounds; they
are like Giles's retriever and the sheep dog. They'll never see me
again." So I looped along saving my breath and heading for a wood which
was quite five miles off that I had once visited from the Marsh on the
sea-shore where I lay sick, for I was sure they would never follow me
there.
You can imagine, then, Mahatma, how surprised I was when I drew near
that wood to hear a hideous noise of dogs all barking together behind
me, and on looking back, to see those spotted brutes, with their tongues
hanging out, coming along quite close to each other and not more than a
quarter of a mile away.
Moreover they were coming after me. I was sure of that, for the first of
them kept setting its nose to the ground just where I had run, and then
lifting up its head to bay.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67