arly marked "gap"; our disappointment when we found the door
standing open and the trigger set just as we had left it the mormng
before; our keen delight when the door was down; the dash for the trap;
the scuffle to decide which should look in first; the peep at the brown
ball screwed up back at the far end; the delicate operation, of getting
the hare out of the trap; and the triumphant return home, holding up our
spoil to be seen from afar. We were happier than we knew.

So far to show how we came to regard hares as our natural game, and how,
though to be bird-hunters we had to grow up, we were hare-hunters as
boys. The rush, the cheers, the yells, the excitement were a part of the
sport, to us boys the best part.

Of course, to hunt hares we had to have dogs--at least boys must
have--the noise, the dash, the chase are half the battle.

And such dogs as ours were!

It was not allowable to take bird-dogs after hares. I say it was not
allowable; I do not say it was not done, for sometimes, of course,
the pointers _would_ come, and we could not make them go back. But
the hare-dogs were the puppies and curs, terriers, watch-dogs, and the
nondescript crew which belonged to the negroes, and to the plantation
generally.

What a pack they were! Thin, undersized black-and-tans, or spotted
beasts of doubtful breed, called "houn's" by courtesy; long legged,
sleepy watch-dogs from the "quarters," brindled or "yaller" mongrels,
which even courtesy could not term other than "kyur dogs"; sharp-voiced
"fises," busier than bees, hunting like fury, as if they expected to
find rats in every tuft of grass; and, when the hares got up, bouncing
and bobbing along, not much bigger than the "molly cottontails" they
were after, getting in everyone's way and receiving sticks and stones
in profusion, but with their spirits unbroken. And all these were in one
incongruous pack, growling, running, barking, ready to steal, fight, or
hunt, whichever it happened to be.

We used to have hunts on Saturdays, just we boys, with perhaps a black
boy or two of our particular cronies; but the great hunt was "in the
holidays"--that is, about Christmas. Then all the young darkies about
the place were free and ready for sport.

This Christmas hunt was an event.

II

It was the year 186--, and, Christmas-day falling on a Sunday, Saturday
was given as the first day of the holidays. It had been a fine Fall;
the cover was good, and old hares were ple