he never acted according to such instructions, but always followed his
own devices). Then he unleashed the hounds, fastened the leashes to
his saddle, whistled to the pack, and disappeared among the young birch
trees the liberated hounds jumping about him in high delight, wagging
their tails, and sniffing and gambolling with one another as they
dispersed themselves in different directions.

"Has anyone a pocket-handkerchief to spare?" asked Papa. I took mine
from my pocket and offered it to him.

"Very well, Fasten it to this greyhound here."

"Gizana?" I asked, with the air of a connoisseur.

"Yes. Then run him along the road with you. When you come to a little
clearing in the wood stop and look about you, and don't come back to me
without a hare."

Accordingly I tied my handkerchief round Gizana's soft neck, and set off
running at full speed towards the appointed spot, Papa laughing as he
shouted after me, "Hurry up, hurry up or you'll be late!"

Every now and then Gizana kept stopping, pricking up his ears, and
listening to the hallooing of the beaters. Whenever he did this I was
not strong enough to move him, and could do no more than shout, "Come
on, come on!" Presently he set off so fast that I could not restrain
him, and I encountered more than one fall before we reached our
destination. Selecting there a level, shady spot near the roots of a
great oak-tree, I lay down on the turf, made Gizana crouch beside me,
and waited. As usual, my imagination far outstripped reality. I fancied