ds will
stretch his legs for him. Yo-i-ck to him, Lucifer! For-r-r-ard to him,
Hecate!

Off dashed the three greyhounds from my side at a railway pace, but, as
the buck was above them and had a start of about two hundred yards, in
such an uphill race both Bran and Lucifer managed to lose sight of him
in the undulations.

Now was the time for Hecate's enormous power of loin and thigh to tell,
and, never losing a moment's view of her game, she sped up the steep
mountain side and was soon after seen within fifty yards of the brick
all alone, but going like a rocket.

Now she has turned him! that pace could not last up hill, and round the
elk doubled and came flying down the mountain side.

From the point of the hill upon which we stood we had a splendid view
of the course; the bitch gained upon him at every bound, and there was
a pitiless dash in her style of going that boded little mercy to her
game. What alarmed me, however, was the direction that the buck was
taking. An abrupt precipice of about two hundred and fifty feet was
lying exactly in his path; this sunk sheer down to a lower series of
grass-lands.

At the tremendous pace at which they were going I feared lest their own
impetus should carry both elk and dog to destruction before they could
see the danger.

Down they flew with unabated speed; they neared the precipice, and a
few more seconds would bring them to the verge.

The stride of the buck was no match for the bound of the greyhound: the
bitch was at his flanks, and he pressed along at flying speed.

He was close to the danger and it was still unseen: a moment more and
"Hecate" sprang at his ear. Fortunately she lost her hold as the ear
split. This check saved her. I shouted, "He'll be over!" and the next
instant he was flying through the air to headlong destruction.

Bounding from a projecting rock upon which he struck, he flew outward,
and with frightfully increasing momentum he spun round and round in his
descent, until the centrifugal motion drew out his legs and neck as
straight as a line. A few seconds of this multiplying velocity
and--crash!

It was all over. The bitch had pulled up on the very brink of the
precipice, but it was a narrow escape.

Sportsmen are contradictory creatures. If that buck had come to bay, I
should have known no better sport than going in at him with the knife
to the assistance of the pack; but I now felt a great amount of
compassion for the poor brute