ere well if every
fig-tree upon earth were cursed, if the spirit of one man could be
taught thereby a single lesson. And so I speak of these, my darling
field-sports, on which I have not been ashamed, as you know, to write a
book.'

'And a very charming one: yet you were still a pagan, recollect, when
you wrote it.'

'I was; and then I followed the chase by mere nature and inclination.
But now I know I have a right to follow it, because it gives me
endurance, promptness, courage, self-control, as well as health and
cheerfulness: and therefore--Ah! a fresh ostrich-track!'

And stopping short, Synesius began pricking slowly up the hillside.

'Back!' whispered he, at last. 'Quietly and silently. Lie down on your
horse's neck, as I do, or the long-necked rogues may see you. They must
be close to us over the brow. I know that favourite grassy slope of old.
Round under yon hill, or they will get wind of us, and then farewell to
them!'

And Synesius and his groom cantered on, hanging each to their horses'
necks by an arm and a leg, in a way which Raphael endeavoured in vain to
imitate.

Two or three minutes more of breathless silence brought them to the
edge of the hill, where Synesius halted, peered down a moment, and then
turned to Raphael, his face and limbs quivering with delight, as he held
up two fingers, to denote the number of the birds.

'Out of arrow-range! Slip the dogs, Syphax!'

And in another minute Raphael found himself galloping headlong down the
hill, while two magnificent ostriches, their outspread plumes waving in
the bright breeze, their necks stooped almost to the ground, and their
long legs flashing out behind them, were sweeping away before the
greyhounds at a pace which no mortal horse could have held for ten
minutes.

'Baby that I am still!' cried Synesius, tears of excitement glittering
in his eyes;.... while Raphael gave himself up to the joy, and forgot
even Victoria, in the breathless rush over rock and bush, sandhill and
watercourse.

'Take care of that dry torrent-bed! Hold up, old horse! This will
not last two minutes more. They cannot hold their pace against this
breeze.... Well tried, good dog, though you did miss him! Ah, that my
boy were here! There--they double. Spread right and left, my children,
and ride at them as they pass!'

And the ostriches, unable, as Synesius said, to keep their pace against
the breeze, turned sharp on their pursuers, and beating the air with
outspr