e#: a gate or fence made of sticks woven together.

[17] #Leicestershire#: a county joining Warwickshire.

Tom, East, and the Tadpole had a good start, and are well up for such
young hands, and, after rising the slope and crossing the next field,
find themselves up with the leading hounds, who have overrun the
scent, and are trying back; they have come a mile and a half in about
eleven minutes, a pace which shows that it is the last day. About
twenty-five of the original starters only show here, the rest having
already given in; the leaders are busy making casts[18] into the
fields on the left and right, and the others get their second winds.

[18] #Casts#: sallies or explorations in different directions.

Then comes the cry of "Forward" again, from young Brooke, from the
extreme left, and the pack settle down to work again steadily and
doggedly, the whole keeping pretty well together. The scent, though
still good, is not so thick; there is no need of that, for in this
part of the run every one knows the line which must be taken, and so
there are no casts to be made, but good downright running and fencing
to be done. All who are now up mean coming in, and they come to the
foot of Barby Hill without losing more than two or three more of
the pack. This last straight two miles and a half is always a
vantage-ground[19] for the hounds, and the hares know it well; they
are generally viewed on the side of Barby Hill, and all eyes are on
the look-out for them to-day. But not a sign of them appears, so now
will be the hard work for the hounds, and there is nothing for it but
to cast about for the scent, for it is now the hares' turn, and they
may baffle the pack dreadfully in the next two miles.

[19] #Vantage-ground#: a place of advantage.

Ill fares it now with our youngsters that they are School-house boys,
and so follow young Brooke, for he takes the wide casts round to the
left, conscious of his own powers, and loving the hard work. For if
you would consider for a moment, you small boys, you would remember
that the Cock, where the run ends, lies far out to the right, on the
Dunchurch road, so that every cast you take to the left is so much
extra work. And at this stage of the run, when the evening is closing
in already, no one remarks whether you run a little cunning or not, so
you should stick to those crafty hounds who keep edging away to the
right, and not follow a prodigal like young Brooke, whose legs