sudden the Hind
and Calf heard a wild sound of men hallooing, and the horn sounding in
quick, continuous notes. Then the man's face brightened up directly,
and he caught hold of the grey horse by the head and galloped off as
fast as he could go.

Directly after this, the Deer heard a mighty rush of hoofs all
hastening to the same spot, the sound growing gradually fainter and
fainter until all was still. But they lay fast till a white Sea-gull
flew high over their heads chirping out, "They're gone, they're gone,"
in a doleful voice; not, you know, because he was sorry that all the
men and horses were gone, but because Sea-gulls, for some reason, can
never say anything cheerfully. And then the Hind arose and led the
Calf cautiously out of the plantation to the open moor; and as they
went they saw a long string of horses, reaching for two or three
miles, toiling painfully one after the other; while far ahead the
hounds, like white specks, kept creeping on and on and on, with a
larger speck close to them which could be nothing else than a grey
horse. So the Hind led the Calf on to a quiet combe, and there they
lay down in peace.

And when the sun began to sink they saw, far away, the hounds and a
very few horses with them, returning slowly and wearily home. But
presently they were startled by voices much closer to them, and they
saw the fair man on the grey horse and the pretty girl, riding side by
side. The Hind was a little alarmed at first, but there was no
occasion for it; for the pair were riding very close together, so
close that his hand was on her horse's neck, and they seemed to be far
too much occupied with each other to think of anything else. So they
passed on; and after they were gone there came a loose horse, saddled
and bridled, but covered all over with mire, and with a stirrup
missing from the saddle. And presently he lay down and rolled over
and over till the girths parted with a crack and left the saddle on
the ground; then he got up, hung up one hind-leg in the reins, and
kicked himself free; then he lay down again, and rubbed his cheeks
against the heather until he had forced the bridle over his head; then
he gave himself a great shake to make quite sure that he had got rid
of everything, and at last he went down to the water and drank, and
wandered off grazing as happy as could be.

Last of all came a man tramping wearily over the heather, with a
stirrup in his hand; but the Calf hardly recognised