Of course, Wat Danbury knew all about
that, and he tried to force his mare through the trees to the place
where all this hideous screaming and howling came from, but the wood was
so thick that it was impossible to ride it. He sprang off, therefore,
left the mare standing, and broke his way through as best he could with
his hunting-lash ready over his shoulder.
"But as he ran forward he felt his flesh go cold and creepy all over.
He had heard hounds run into foxes many times before, but he had never
heard such sounds as these. They were not the cries of triumph, but of
fear. Every now and then came a shrill yelp of mortal agony. Holding
his breath, he ran on until he broke through the interlacing branches,
and found himself in a little, clearing with the hounds all crowding
round a patch of tangled bramble at the further end.
"When he first caught sight of them the hounds were standing in a
half-circle round this bramble patch, with their backs bristling and
their jaws gaping. In front of the brambles lay one of them with his
throat torn out, all crimson and white-and-tan. Wat came running out
into the clearing, and at the sight of him the hounds took heart again,
and one of them sprang with a growl into the bushes. At the same
instant, a creature the size of a donkey jumped on to its feet, a huge
grey head, with monstrous glistening fangs and tapering fox jaws, shot
out from among the branches, and the hound was thrown several feet into
the air, and fell howling among the cover.
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