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Updated: May 31, 2025
The fording of the river threw the hounds off for a time. She knew, by their uncertain yelping up and down the opposite bank, that she had a little respite; she used it, however, to push on until the baying was faint in her ears; and then she dropped, exhausted, upon the ground. This rest, brief as it was, saved her life.
Rosalie did not awake, notwithstanding the stamping of the horses, the baying of the dogs and the noisy tumult made by a crowd of sportsmen. The prince was stupefied and stood gazing steadily at Rosalie. No one present recognized her. Anxious and disquieted by this profound sleep, Prince Gracious took her hand softly. Rosalie still slept.
When, at last, the old badger relinquished his hold, Brock shook himself, and sulkily departed from the "set," followed to the door by his relentless chastiser. An hour before noon, Brock heard the note of a horn sounding far distant, but really coming only from the other side of the hill succeeded by the eager baying of a pack of fox-hounds.
I was right, too, for once within, he uttered a deep bell-note, more sonorous and more musical than lies in the throats of common dogs, and was answered by a distant baying. One could not say that these majestic animals "barked."
Somewhere below me to my left were the hounds still baying. The lower reaches of the rim consisted of ridges and gorges, benches and ravines, canyons and promontories a country so wild and broken that it seemed impossible for hounds to travel it, let alone men.
She heard the panting of a large animal close to her in the hut, and very feebly she put out a hand. She did not like that loud baying. It went through and through her brain. She was not frightened, only dreadfully tired. And now that she was back again in the body, she longed unspeakably to sleep.
A pack of bloodhounds, led by Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip in tallyho cap and an old pair of grey trousers, follow from fir, picking up the scent, nearer, baying, panting, at fault, breaking away, throwing their tongues, biting his heels, leaping at his tail. He walks, runs, zigzags, gallops, lugs laid back.
I could have touched him with my fork. Then he sat down with just his silver-tipped brush in the silver moonlight, to study me in earnest. The loud baying of the hounds was coming nearer. How often I had heard it, and, in spite of my lost chickens, how often I had exclaimed, "Poor little tired fox!"
The doe did not know that it was the spire of a Christian chapel. But perhaps she thought that human pity dwelt there, and would be more merciful than the teeth of the hounds. "The hounds are baying on my track: O white man! will you send me back?" In a panic, frightened animals will always flee to human-kind from the danger of more savage foes. They always make a mistake in doing so.
"Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. "The traps!" responded a bystander.
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