"So you've been following the dogs to-day," said he. "Been successful?"
"Not a bit of it," said Rossitur. "Whether we got on the wrong grounds, or didn't get on the right ones, or the dogs didn't mind their business, or there was nothing to fire at, I don't know; but we lost our patience and got nothing in exchange."
"Speak for yourself," said the other. "I assure you I was sensible of no ground of impatience while going over such a superb country as this."
"It is a fine country," said Mr. Ringgan,--"all this tract; and I ought to know it, for I have hunted every mile of it for many a mile around. There used to be more game than partridges in these hills when I was a young man;--bears and wolves, and deer, and now and then a panther, to say nothing of rattlesnakes."
"That last mentioned is an irregular sort of game, is it not?" said Mr. Carleton smiling.
"Well, game is what you choose to make it," said the old gentleman. "I have seen worse days' sport than I saw once when we were out after rattlesnakes and nothing else. There was a cave, sir, down under a mountain a few miles to the south of this, right at the foot of a bluff some four or five hundred feet sheer down,--it was known to be a resort of those creatures; and a party of us went out,--it's many years ago now,--to see if we couldn't destroy the nest--exterminate the whole horde. We had one dog with us,--a little dog, a kind of spaniel; a little white and yellow fellow,--and he did the work! Well, sir,--how many of those vermin do you guess that little creature made a finish of that day?--of large and small, sir, there were two hundred and twelve."
"He must have been a gallant little fellow."
"You never saw a creature, sir, take to a sport better; he just dashed in among them, from one to another,--he would catch a snake by the neck and give it a shake, and throw it down and rush at another;--poor fellow, it was his last day's sport,--he died almost as soon as it was over; he must have received a great many bites. The place is known as the rattlesnakes' den to this day, though there are none there now, I believe."
"My little cousin is well, I hope," said Mr. Rossitur.
"She? yes, bless her I she is always well. Where is she? Fairy, where are you?--Cynthy, just call Elfieda here."