"But never a glimpse did they get of the fox, although they knew very
well that he must be only a very short way ahead for the scent to be so
strong. And then Wat Danbury heard a crash and a thud at his elbow, and
looking round he saw a pair of white cords and top-boots kicking out of
a tussock of brambles. The whip's horse had stumbled, and the whip was
out of the running. Danbury and the huntsman eased down for an instant;
and then, seeing the man staggering to his feet all right, they turned
and settled into their saddles once more.
"Joe Clarke, the huntsman, was a famous old rider, known for five
counties round; but he reckoned upon his second horse, and the second
horses had all been left many miles behind. However, the one he was
riding was good enough for anything with such a horseman upon his back,
and he was going as well as when he started. As to Wat Danbury, he was
going better. With every stride his own feelings improved, and the mind
of the rider had its influence upon the mind of the horse. The stout
little roan was gathering its muscular limbs under it, and stretching to
the gallop as if it were steel and whale-bone instead of flesh and
blood. Wat had never come to the end of its powers yet, and to-day he
had such a chance of testing them as he had never had before.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229