I have always thought that, next to a hunting-horn, there is no music in the world equal to that of a pack of staunch hounds in full cry, nor a prettier sight to be seen than they present while flying over the ground, almost with the rapidity of thought.

How the deep-toned bays echo and re-echo through the woods, until it seems as if the bushes were fairly alive with the excited animal! How easily they bound along, and how your heart swells within you, as you sit on your good horse, with your trusty double-barrel in your hands, waiting for the game to break cover!

This is grand and inspiring under certain circumstances; but if you are the hunted instead of the hunter, and those hounds are on your track, and you have nothing but a couple 242of loads of buckshot and your own lightness of foot to depend upon, the case is very different. There is not so much music in their baying then, by any means, and you do not see any thing about them to admire.

I trembled with alarm as I gazed back at the savage brutes. Their long bounds were rapidly lessening the distance between us, and I saw that it was high time I was doing something. Raising my gun to my shoulder, I fired with both barrels in quick succession, and when the smoke cleared away, I saw that there were four hounds less in that pack.

Growler and Nero, the ones at which I had aimed, were lying on the ground, stone dead, and two others were badly wounded.

Luke Redman and his boys yelled with rage when they witnessed the effect of my shots, and shouted after us threats that made my blood run cold.

“Never mind them!” exclaimed Tom, snatching the empty gun and handing me the other. “Keep it up. Show them that we are in earnest.”

The hounds were thrown into great confusion 243by the havoc the buckshot made in their ranks, and I knew that they would not again take up their trail until urged on by their masters.

I leveled my gun a second time, but now the muzzle was turned toward Pete and his companions, who were rushing recklessly forward, expecting, no doubt, to capture us very easily. They stopped when they found themselves confronted by the double-barrel, and Pete began shouting some orders in his native tongue to his followers, who turned and ran back to their horses.

We did not wait to see what they were going to do, for, having by this time reached the cane-brake, we dashed into it, and quickly left our enemies out of sight.

Have you ever seen a cane-brake? If you have not, I am afraid I can give you but a poor idea of one. Imagine, if you can, a tract of country covered with ordinary fishing-rods, such as you city boys buy in the variety stores, at a shilling apiece, standing as closely together as the hair on a dog’s back, and growing to the height of twelve and fourteen feet.

244If you can imagine this, you will know pretty nearly how a cane-brake looks; but you can not understand what an excellent hiding-place it is. One might walk by within two feet without discovering you; and more than that, he could not follow the trail you made in going in, for, as fast as you pass the cane, it closes up behind you.

The one in which we had taken refuge, did not cover more than a dozen acres; and yet, had it not been for the hounds, Luke Redman and his whole gang might have searched for us during the rest of the week, and they would never have found us.

“Now, Joe,” whispered Tom, as he began to load the gun I had fired at the hounds, “I have another foolhardy plan to propose. We’ll watch our chance to get back to the house, and climb up the grape-vine to our prison again. What do you think of it?”

“I think I won’t do it,” I replied, completely astounded at the proposition. “We might as well have stayed there in the first place.”

“Oh,............