Whilst I watched, wondering what to do, there was a shout of "There she
goes!" and all the long dogs began to pull at their strings. Off the
necks of two of them the collars seemed to fall, and away they leapt
pursuing a hare. The men on the horses galloped after them, but the men
on foot remained where they were.

Now I was afraid to get up and run lest they should loose the other dogs
on me, so I lay still, till presently I saw the hare coming back towards
me, followed by the two dogs whose noses almost touched its tail. It was
exhausted and tried to twist and spring away to the right. But as it did
so one of the dogs caught it in its mouth and bit it till it died.

"That was a rotten hare," said Tom, who cantered up just then, "it gave
no course at all."

"Yes," puffed Grampus. "Hope the next one will show better sport."

"Hope so too," answered Tom, "especially as it is Jack and Jill's turn
to be slipped, and they are the best greyhounds for twenty miles round."

Then the Red-faced Man gave some orders and Jack and Jill were brought
forward by the man whose business it was to slip the dogs. One of them
was black and one yellow; I think Jack was the black one--a dreadful,
sneaking-looking beast with a white tip to its tail, which ended in a
sort of curl.

"Forward now," said Grampus, "and go slow. There's sure to be another
puss or two in this rough grass."