Yes, they were coming on my scent. They
could smell me as Giles's curly dog smells the wounded partridges. My
heart sank at the thought, but presently I remembered that the wood was
quite close, and that there I should certainly give them the slip.
So I went on quite cheerfully, not even running as fast as I could. But
fortune was against me, as everything has always been, for I never found
a friend. I ran along the side of a hedgerow which went quite up to
the wood, not knowing that at the end of it three men were engaged in
cutting down an oak tree. You see, Mahatma, they had caught sight of the
hunt and stopped from their work, so that I did not hear the sound of
their axes upon the tree. Nor, as my head was so near the ground, did I
see them until I was right on to them, at which moment also they saw me.
"Here she is!" yelled one of them. "Keep her out of covert or they'll
lose her," and he threw out his arms and began to jump about, as did the
other two.
I pulled up short within three or four yards of them. Behind were the
dogs and the people galloping upon horses and in front were the three
men. What was I to do? Now I had stopped exactly in a gateway, for a
lane ran alongside the wood. After a moment's pause I bolted through the
gateway, thinking that I would get into the wood beyond. But one of the
men, who of course wanted to see me killed, was too quick for me and
there headed me again.
Then I lost my senses.
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