No man was
near the hounds when he broke covert. But fat Tom, who had been detached
from the party to bring up provisions from the village, was driving in
his sleigh steadily along the road, when the sharp chorus of the hounds
aroused him. A minute after, the lame scoundrel limped across the
turnpike, scant thirty yards before him. Alas! Tom had but his
double-barrel, one loaded with buck shot, the other merely prepared for
partridge--he blazed away, however, but in vain! Out came ten couple on
his track, hard after him; and old Tom, cursing his bad luck, stood to
survey the chase across the open.
"Strange was the felon's fate! The first fence, after he had crossed the
road, was full six feet in height, framed of huge split logs, piled so
close together that, save between the two topmost rails, a small dog
even could have found no passage. Full at this opening the wolf dashed,
as fresh, Tom said, as though he had not run a yard; but as he struggled
through it, his efforts shook the top rails from the yokes, and the huge
piece of timber falling across his loins, pinned him completely! At a
mile off I heard his howl myself, and the confused and savage hubbub, as
the hounds front and rear, assailed him.
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