Two dogs are led across to the little
hut--the bellow of the Ring sounds hoarsely on--and the chosen pair of
dogs disappear behind the shrubs. And now what is passing on the farther
side of that door which closes the lane? A hare is comfortably nestling
under a clump of furze when a soft step sounds near her. A man! Pussy
would like to move to right or left; but, lo, here are other men!
Decidedly she must move forward. Oh, joy! A swinging door rises softly,
and shows her a delightful long lane that seems to open on to a pleasant
open country. She hops gaily onward, and then a little uneasiness
overtakes her; she looks back, but that treacherous door has swung down
again, and there is only one road for her now. Softly she steals onward
to the mouth of the lane, and then she finds a slanting line of men who
wave their arms at her when she tries to shoot aside. A loud roar bursts
from the human animals on the stand, and then a hush falls. Now or
never, pussy! The far-off barrier must be gained, or all is over. The
hare lowers her ears and dashes off; then from the hut comes a
staggering man, who hangs back with all his strength as a pair of
ferocious dogs writhe and strain in the leash; the hounds rise on their
haunches, and paw wildly with their fore-feet, and they struggle forward
until puss has gone a fair distance, while the slipper encourages them
with low guttural sounds.
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