m. And he remembered Aunt Yeld's words, "May you
never know what it is to look for help and to find none." But he could
hear nothing of the hounds, and almost began to hope that he might
have beaten them. So at last he found a corner thickly overhung with
branches, and there he lay down in the water. And then whom should he
see but the Lady Salmon making her way slowly up the stream, the very
friend who could tell him what he wanted to know.

But before he could speak to her she said, "Beware of going further
down, for there is a flood-gate across the stream which you cannot
pass. Have you seen my husband?"

And he told her, "Yes," and she swam on, while he lay still and made
up his mind where he would go if the hounds came on. The hounds indeed
had dropped behind him, for the men could not believe that the Deer
could have leaped the pole under the bridge, and had taken them to try
for him somewhere else. But the old black and tan hound had tried to
walk along the pole to wind it before they came up, and having fallen
into the water and been swept on past the bridge, was still trying
downward by himself. And thus it was that while the Deer was lying in
the water the old hound came up alone. He seemed to have made up his
mind that the Stag was near, for he stopped and kept sniffing round
him in all directions till at last he crept in under the bank, caught
sight of him, and threw his head into the air with a loud triumphant
bay. The Stag leaped to his feet in an instant and dashed at him, but
the old hound shrank back and saved himself; and then the Stag broke
out of the water, for he had made up his mind to breast the hill, and
push on for Bremridge Wood. He knew the way, for it was that which the
Partridge had shown him, and he felt that by a great effort he could
reach it.

And as he slanted painfully up the steep ascent he heard the old hound
still baying with disappointment and rage; for he could not scramble
up the steep bank so quickly as the Deer, and the more he bayed the
further he was left behind. Further up the valley the Stag could hear
the horn and hallooing of men, but he pressed on bravely and gained
the top of the hill at last. But when he reached it his neck was
bowed, his tongue was parched, and his legs staggered under him. Still
he struggled on. He was in the enclosed country now, but he knew every
field and every rack, and he scrambled over the banks and hurled
himself over the gates as pluckily