front of the citizens, to show that he is the least of the former and the first of the latter, so he walked immediately after the prickers and ahead of the keepers of the hounds, as being the chief of the whippers-in and least of the prickers.
The whole procession filed out of the castle court in full hunting array, with the English horses and the French hounds; twelve horses, and forty dogs.
Before we go any farther, let me say that with these twelve horses and forty dogs the Baron hunted every sort of quarry, but more especially the wolf, in order no doubt to do honour to his title.
No further proof will be needed by the genuine sportsman of the fine faith he had in the general quality of his hounds, and in their keenness of scent, than the fact that next to the wolf he gave preference to the boar, then to the red deer, then to the fallow-deer, and lastly to the roebuck; finally, if the keepers of the pack failed to sight the animal they had tracked, he uncoupled at random, and went after the first hare that crossed his path. For, as we have already stated, the worthy Baron went out hunting every day, and he would sooner have gone for four-and-twenty hours without food or drink, although he was often thirsty, than have spent that time without seeing his hounds run.
But, as everybody knows, however swift the horses, and however keen the dogs, hunting has its bad times as well as its good.
One day, Marcotte came up to where the Baron was awaiting him, with a crestfallen expression of countenance.
“How now, Marcotte,” asked the Baron frowning, “what is the matter this time? I see by your face we are to expect bad sport today.”
Marcotte shook his head.
“Speak up, man,” continued the Baron with a gesture of impatience.