No hound gave tongue, however,
nor did a rustle in the brake, or any sound of life, give token of the
presence of the game--louder and nearer drew the shouts--and now Harry
himself began to doubt if there were any truth in Jem's relation, when
suddenly the sharp, quick crack of Forester's rifle gave token that the
game was afoot--a loud yell from that worthy followed.
"Look out! Mark--back--mark back!"
And keenly Archer did look out, and warily did he listen--once he
detected, or fancied he detected, a rustling of the under-wood, and the
crack of a dry stick, and dropping his reins on the horse's neck, he
cocked his rifle--but the sound was not repeated, nor did any thing come
into sight--so he let down the hammer once again, and resumed his silent
watch, saying to himself...
"Frank fired too quick, and he has headed up the brook to Jem. If he is
forward enough now, we shall have him back instantly, with the hounds at
his heels; but if he has loitered and hung back, `over the hills and far
away' is the word for this time."
But Jem was in his place, and in another moment a long whoop came
ringing down the glen, and the shrill yelping rally of the hounds as
they all opened on a view together! Fiercer and wilder grew the hubbub!
And now the eager watcher might hear the brushwood torn in all
directions by the impetuous passage of the wild deer and his inveterate
pursuers.
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