One or two of my young companions evinced some temper and jealousy at this, and growled deeply with up-reared hackles.
“Come, come,” hallooed Tom, correctingly, and a crack from his thong soon silenced the grumblers.
“His nose is hot,” observed the Squire, touching my nostrils, and standing a few feet back followed up the remark by saying, “What is that redness on his flank?”
“A little heat, I think, sir,” replied the huntsman, making a more careful examination of me.
“Then cool him,” was the reply, “and let him stay at home to-morrow.”
I was very sorry to hear this order given; for although I felt far from being in health, I was anything but disposed to be placed on the hospital list.
Being passed forward to the others, Vanquisher was summoned, and the Squire noticing him limp, said, “What is the matter with that hound? He’s lame.”
“He has cut his near fore-foot a little,” replied Will.
“Let me see,” rejoined our master, and upon lifting it up, said, “He has sprung a claw, and you ought to have known it.”
The huntsman’s face became a little flushed, and he looked as if he felt the rebuke keenly.