There wasn't
a man ready for a start; my horse had only just come down. Fossick was on
foot, drawing his girths; Fyle was striking a light to smoke a cigar on his
hack; Blossomnose and Capon's grooms were fistling and wisping their
horses; Dribble, as usual, was all behind; and altogether there was such a
scene of hurry and confusion as never was seen.
'As they came to the brook they got somewhat into line, and one saw who was
there. Five or six of us charged it together, and two went under. One was
Springwheat on his bay, who was somewhat pumped out; the other was said to
be Hook. Old Daddy Longlegs skimmed it like a swallow, and, getting his
hind-legs well under him, shot over the pastures beyond, as if he was going
upon turf. The hounds all this time had been running, or rather racing,
nearly mute. They now, however, began to feel for the scent; and, as they
got upon the cold, bleak grounds above Somerton Quarries, they were fairly
brought to their noses. Uncommon glad I was to see them; for ten minutes
more, at the pace they had been going, would have shaken off every man
Jack of us.
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