The fields that spread underneath were bare and wind-swept; there was no sign of life in them. But what was that brownish dab on the right? Incredulously he watched it travelling up the furrow;—and, convinced, let out a wild yell that made their own horses jump.
"It's a fox!" he said. "It's a fox. Keep your eye on him, Susan, while I fetch them up."
He galloped back, waving his hat to hurry the startled host. The huntsman came swiftly over the hill, and a glance assured him; he touched his horn. In half a minute he and his hounds were scouring over the fields, and the riders who had been at the front were jumping out of the road.
"They've found. They are running!"
The cry was flung from lip to lip along the bewildered ranks that had closed up in expectation of the long jog to cover. A minute more and the crowd had burst like a scattered wave, far and wide.
Down the slope; up a rise; in and out of a lane defended by straggling blackthorn; dipping over the skyline; the pack was gone. Only the quickest could live with them, only the first away had a chance of keeping up in the run. They were just a handful as they landed over a stake-and-bound into a rolling pasture, a great rough waste where the ridges rose up like billows, crosswise, submerging the horses that were shortening in their stride.
"Good for the liver!" groaned Kilgour, as he rocked up and down. "But what a sell for the crafty ones waiting on Gartree Hill!"
"They'll cut in with us at Great Dalby," said Barnaby, flinging a glance that side. The pack hung to the left, still flying.
"Not much!" said Kilgour. "D'you suppose the fox is stopping with Lydia Measures for a bottle of ginger beer?—What did I tell you? There they go, wide of the village, over the Kirby lane——"
He broke off his ejaculations, pointing triumphantly with his whip, pushing on. A man of his build could not afford to lag behind, unlike those light-weights who could lie by and then come like a whirlwind and make it up. He must keep plodding on. But he took no shame to diverge suddenly to a gate. Let the young 'uns surmount that rasper.