02 The Hunt

           BeforeIwastwoyearsoldacircumstancehappenedwhichIhaveneverforgotten.Itwasearlyinthespring;therehadbeenalittlefrostinthenight,andalightmiststillhungoverthewoodsandmeadows.Iandtheothercoltswerefeedingatthelowerpartofthefieldwhenweheard,quiteinthedistance,whatsoundedlikethecryofdogs.Theoldestofthecoltsraisedhishead,prickedhisears,andsaid,“Therearethehounds!”andimmediatelycanteredoff,followedbytherestofustotheupperpartofthefield,wherewecouldlookoverthehedgeandseeseveralfieldsbeyond.Mymotherandanoldridinghorseofourmaster’swerealsostandingnear,andseemedtoknowallaboutit.

           

           

           “Theyhavefoundahare,”saidmymother,“andiftheycomethiswayweshallseethehunt.”

           

           

           Andsoonthedogswerealltearingdownthefieldofyoungwheatnexttoours.Ineverheardsuchanoiseastheymade.Theydidnotbark,norhowl,norwhine,butkeptona“yo!yo,o,o!yo!yo,o,o!”atthetopoftheirvoices.Afterthemcameanumberofmenonhorseback,someofthemingreencoats,allgallopingasfastastheycould.Theoldhorsesnortedandlookedeagerlyafterthem,andweyoungcoltswantedtobegallopingwiththem,buttheyweresoonawayintothefieldslowerdown;hereitseemedasiftheyhadcometoastand;thedogsleftoffbarking,andranabouteverywaywiththeirnosestotheground.

           

           

           “Theyhavelostthescent,”saidtheoldhorse;“perhapstheharewillgetoff.”

           

           

           “Whathare?”Isaid.

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