heard: 'So ho, good hounds! that's she! cleverly now, good hounds! so ho, good hounds!'[26] And so, wrapping his cloak[27] about his left arm, and snatching up his club, he joins the hounds in the race after the hare, taking care not to get in their way,[28] which would stop proceedings.[29] The hare, once off, is quickly out of sight of her pursuers; but, as a rule, will make a circuit back to the place where she was found.[30]
[26] Reading {io kunes, io kunes, sophos ge o kunes, kalos ge o
kunes}. Al. {io kunes, io kakos} = 'To her, dogs! that won't do!'
'Ho, ho, Hunde! Ho, ho, falsch! Recht so, Hunde! schon so, Hunde!'
(Lenz).
[27] {o ampekhetai}, 'the shawl or plaid which he carries on his
shoulders.' See Pollux, v. 10.
[28] 'Not to head the chase.' Sir Alex. Grant, 'Xen.' p. 167.
[29] {aporon}, 'which would be awkward' (see Arrian, xxv. 8).
[30] 'Where the nets are set,' Sir A. Grant. See his comment, l.c.
He must shout then to the keeper, 'Mark her, boy, mark her! hey, lad! hey, lad!' and the latter will make known whether the hare is caught or not. Supposing the hare to be caught in her first ring, the huntsman has only to call in the hounds and beat up another. If not, his business is to follow up the pack full speed, and not give in, but on through thick and through thin, for toil is sweet. And if again they chance upon her in the chevy,[31] his cheery shout will be heard once more, 'Right so! right so, hounds! forward on, good hounds!'
[31] {apantosi diokousai auton}, al. 'come across the huntsman again.'
But if the pack have got too long a start of him, and he cannot overtake them, however eagerly he follows up the hunt-perhaps he has altogether missed the chase, or even if they are ranging close and giving tongue and sticking to the scent, he cannot see them-still as he tears along he can interrogate the passer-by: 'Hilloa there, have you seen my hounds?' he shouts, and having at length ascertained their whereabouts, if they are on the line, he will post himself close by, and cheer them on, repeating turn and turn about the name of every hound, and pitching the tone of his voice sharp or deep, soft or loud; and besides all other familiar calls, if the chase be on a hillside,[32] he can keep up their spirits with a constant 'Well done, good hounds! well done, good hounds! good hounds!' Or if any are at fault, having overshot the line, he will call to them, 'Back, hounds! back, will you! try back!'
[32] Or, 'if the chase sweeps over a mountain-side.'
As soon as the hounds have got back to (where they missed) the line,[33] he must cast them round, making many a circle to and fro; and where the line fails, he should plant a stake[34] as a sign-post to guide the eye, and so cast round the dogs from that point,[35] till they have found the right scent, with coaxing and encouragement. As soon as the line of scent is clear,[36] off go the dogs, throwing themselves on to it, springing from side to side, swarming together, conjecturing, and giving signs to one another, and taking bearings[37] they will not mistake- helter-skelter off they go in pursuit. Once they dart off along the line of scent thus hotly, the huntsman should keep up but without hurrying, or out of zeal they will overshoot the line. As soon as they are once more in close neighbourhood of the hare, and once again have given their master clear indications of the fact, then let him give what heed he can, she does not move off farther in sheer terror of the hounds.
[33] {prosstosi}, al. 'whenever they check.'
[34] Al. (1) 'take a stake or one of the poles as a sign-post,' (2)
'draw a line on the ground.'
[35] {suneirein}. Zeune cf. 'Cyrop.' VII. v. 6, 'draw the dogs along
by the nets.' Blane.
[36] 'As the scent grows warmer,' the translator in 'Macmillan's Mag.'
above referred to. Aristot. 'H. A.' ix. 44. 4.
[37] Lit. 'fixing landmarks for themselves.'
They meanwhile, with sterns wagging, tumbling and leaping over one another's backs,[38] at intervals loudly giving tongue, and lifting up their heads and peering into their master's face, as much as to say, 'There is no mistake about it this time,'[39] will presently of themselves start the hare and be after her full cry, with bark and clamour.[40] Thereupon, whether the hare falls into the toils of the funnel net or rushes past outside or inside, whatever incident betide, the net-keeper must with a shout proclaim the fact. Should the hare be caught, the huntsman has only to begin looking for another; if not, he must follow up the chase once more with like encouragement.
[38] Or, 'whisking their tails and frisking wildly, and jostling
against one another, and leaping over one another at a great
rate.' Al. 'over one obstacle, and then another.'
[39] Or, 'this is the true line at last.'
[40] Al. 'with a crash of tongues.'
When at length the hounds show symptoms of fatigue, and it is already late in the day, the time has come for the huntsman to look for his hare that lies dead-beat; nor must he wittingly leave any patch of green or clod of earth untested.[41] Backwards and forwards he must try and try again the ground,[42] to be sure that nothing has been overlooked. The fact is, the little creature lies in a small compass, and from fatigue and fear will not get up. As he leads the hounds on he will cheer and encourage them, addressing with many a soft term the docile creature, the self-willed, stubborn brute more rarely, and to a moderate extent the hound of average capacity, till he either succeeds in running down or driving into the toils some victim.[43] After which he will pick up his nets, both small and large alike, giving every hound a rub down, and return home from the hunting-field, taking care, if it should chance to be a summer's noon, to halt a bit, so that the feet of his hounds may not be blistered on the road.
[41] Lit. 'anything which earth puts forth or bears upon her bosom.'
[42] Or, 'Many and many a cast back must he make.'
[43] The famous stanzas in 'Venus and Adonis' may fitly close this
chapter.
And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles How he outruns the wind and with what care He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles:
The many musets through the which he goes
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.
Sometimes he runs among a flock of sheep, To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell, And sometimes where earth-delving conies keep, To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
And sometimes sorteth with a herd of deer:
Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:
For there his smell with others being mingled, The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled With much ado the cold fault cleanly out:
Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,
As if another chase were in the skies.
By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear, To hearken if his foes pursue him still: Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
And now his grief may be compared well
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.
Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch Turn, and return, indenting with the way; Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch, Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
For misery is trodden on by many,
And being low never relieved by any.
VII
For breeding purposes choose winter, and release the bitches from hard work;[1] which will enable them to profit by repose and to produce a fine progeny towards spring, since that season is the best to promote the growth of the young dogs. The bitch is in heat for fourteen days,[2] and the moment at which to put her to the male, with a view to rapid and successful impregnation, is when the heat is passing off. Choose a good dog for the purpose. When the bitch is ready to whelp she should not be taken out hunting continuously, but at intervals sufficient to
