If left to himself, he would probably have curled up in some warm spot and rested until the hound came within hearing, when he would have jumped up and continued his flight.
When Bugle arrived on the ground, he did not attempt to bite the fox, as he generally did. He simply smelt it, wagged his tail vigorously in response to his master's caresses and words of praise, and then stood off and looked up at him, as if awaiting further orders.
"We'll have something to eat, old fellow, before we do any more hunting," said Oscar, who always talked to his favorite as if the animal could understand every word he said. "We have earned a good dinner by this morning's work, and we'll go and get it. I declare, it is ready now. I had no idea it was so late. Let's hurry up!"
Oscar knew that dinner was ready, because he heard signals exchanged between Mr. Bacon's house and the field. First, a shrill female voice shouted:
"Hooppee!"
The call was repeated two or three times, and then an answering "Yeep!" uttered in deep, masculine tones, arose from the field below.
Oscar, followed by Bugle, hurried down the hill, clambered over the fence, and joined Mr. Bacon and his two broad-shouldered sons, who had been at work repairing a stone wall. They were on their way to the house, but they stopped when they saw him coming, and Mr. Bacon, discovering the prize he carried over his shoulder, brought his hands together with a loud clap, and shouted out a cordial welcome.
"Well, you done it, didn't you?" he exclaimed. "That's the feller, 'cause I'd know him two mile off, if I could see him that fur. I told the boys I reckoned mebbe that was you a-shootin' up there, an' I had half a notion to send one on 'em up to see. Come on now, and get the dinner I promised you—you and Bugle. We'll fill him so full of meat that he won't do no more huntin' this day, that there hound-dog won't."
"Not meat, please!" said Oscar; "it spoils a dog's nose. Bugle has little besides corn-bread and vegetables at home, and he is entirely satisfied with his diet."
"Well, I reckon mebbe Johnnycake'll do him, won't it? Wife always has Johnnycake on Monday, 'cause it's wash-day, you know."