By Jove! Where had Joker got him to? The
lane they had wandered down ran parallel with Gloun Kieraun, and a gap
in the fence on his left made him aware that he was now moving abreast
with the hunt, but was divided from his fellows by the chasm of the
glen.
A second touch of the horn came; Larry checked his horse; Bill Kirby
had seen him and was shouting to him.
"Head him back if he breaks your side! I want him his way!"
All jolly fine for old Bill, but where did young Mr. Coppinger come
in? He held up his hand to show he had heard, and stood still.
One hound spoke, sharply, in the depths of the woody glen. Another and
another joined in. In a moment, the echoing glen was full of voices;
it was impossible to tell what was happening. A couple and a half
emerged on the farther side in the heather above the trees, working a
line upwards, and speaking to it as they went. Larry saw the Master
force his horse down near them, and heard him cheering them and
doubling his horn. Another couple joined them, and Larry swore
heartily. Here he was on the wrong side, and the fox away to the east!
The cry redoubled; it sounded as if twice the pack were engaged, yet
the two and a half couple were not being reinforced. By some chance
Larry withdrew his eyes from them, and just then, about a hundred
yards further on, on his side of the glen, something like a brown
feather floated up into view.
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