tian's beloved
foundling, who was first to recognise the fact. Far down, from the
bottom of the gorge, she called to her fellows, and it was Christian,
of all the riders, who first heard her voice. If Larry had had his
great moment, when the fox broke, it was Christian's turn now, when
Amazon fresh-found him. I suppose there are not very many people who,
as well as being perfectly happy, are conscious of their perfect
happiness. This little girl was of that privileged company, as, in
answer to her call, her father threw the pack over the edge of the
plateau and cheered them to Amazon.

In two minutes, a frenzied chorus was filling the narrow gorge, the
cry of the hounds, the hurrying reiterated notes of the horn, the
shouts of the Whips rating on stragglers, echoing and re-echoing from
cliff to cliff. Before the riders had committed themselves to the
descent, the leading hounds were straining up the opposite cliff face;
slithering, and slipping, the horses were hurried down a track that
goats had made between rocks and bracken, and, at the base, found
themselves confronted with the problem of the river. The River Styx
could hardly look less attractive than did the Feorish, as it swirled,
swollen and foaming, among its rocks, its dark torrent plunging from
steep to steep in roaring waterfalls. Some country men, high on the
cliffs, howled directions, and the Master, his eye on his hounds
struggling with the fierce stream, went on down the gorge until the
howls changed their metre, thus indicating to the experienced that the
moment had come to cross the river. The ford, such as it was,
permitted some half dozen of the horses to cross it, splashing and
floundering, wobbling perilously from the round and slimy back of one
sunken rock to another.

Judith and the grey mare, following close on Bill Kirby's heels, got
over neatly, and were away after him over the top of the hill before
Christian's turn came. The ancient and skilled Harry addressed himself
to the task with elderly caution, feeling his way with suspicion,
creeping across with slow-poised feet, and was so delicate over the
effort, that Larry's cob, following too close on him, was checked at a
critical moment. He struggled, slipped, recovered, found himself still
hindered by Harry, and, with a final stagger, lost footing altogether,
and rolled over.

Cottingham, subsequently recounting the incident, declared that
_he_ thought, he did, that the young genel'm was