Once in the woods he put on the afterburners, streaking toward the tip of the ravine. He’d covered another mile in less than five minutes over uneven terrain. As he looked down into the ravine he considered how best to trouble the hounds.
Comet walked out of the woods.“Target, are you heading down?”
Target thought if the young gray had been human he would have rolled up a cigarette pack in his T-shirt sleeve.“Yes. You?”
“Thought I’d walk along the edge here and duck into those rocks at the end. I’ve been eating the corn trail. I didn’t expect hounds to get here so fast.” He indicated the large rock outcropping with the ledge looming out of sight at the far end of the ravine. Holly bushes and mountain laurel covered the folds of land leading water down to the creek below. Enormous oaks, hickories, and walnuts, spared from logging by their inaccessible location, gave the place a magical air. Chinquapins dotted the upper rim, their bundles resembling baby chestnuts, a light spiky green.
“Let’s make them crazy.” Target grinned.“See that den there?” He headed over to an abandoned groundhog den.“Let’s go in together. I’ll take the exit just under the edge of the ravine and you leave by the path heading back toward the hog’s back. The death jump.” Target added,“They’ll split for sure. That will make the whips work up a sweat. Ha. Sister laid the corn trail and she intends for the pack to split. A painful thing for a master, so you know it’s—vital.”
Eagerly both males zipped into the groundhog den, moving through the central living quarters.
Target sniffed.“Groundhogs have no sense of aesthetics.”
Comet didn’t reply. He thought the old den was fine although he’d have to pull out the old grass left behind.
At the fork underground, Target went left and Comet turned right.
“Good luck,” Comet called as he wriggled out into the pale sunlight, filtering through low clouds.
“Ditto,” the big red called back from the tunnel, his voice echoing. He emerged just under a pin oak, half of its roots clinging to the rim of the ravine, the other half securely in deep ground. Down he slithered, heading toward the creek. Comet, having the easier path but the more dangerous open one, ran hard to the hog’s back, flattened and crawled under, making sure to leave lots of scent under the jump, then he crawled out, barreled across the high meadow, ducked under the three-board fence at the back side to scramble over the moss-covered rock. Then, feeling devilish, instead of dipping into a den just below the flat rocks he made a big semicircle back into the same high meadow and headed across to the western woods on the other side, blew through those, entering the hay fields leading toward the kennels. He screeched to a halt at the kennel.
“Hey!”
Those hounds left behind, gyps in heat and puppies, lifted their ears.“What are you doing here?”
“You can’t get me.” He lifted back his head and laughed.
“Just you wait, Comet. Pride goeth before a fall,” a pretty tricolor hound warned.
Raleigh—sneaking up behind Comet, Golly behind him—would have pounced except that Rooster, overexcited at the prospect of game larger than a rabbit, bounded past the shrewder animals.
Comet heard him, spun around, knew he had a split second, and he leapt sideways, narrowly escaping Rooster’s snapping jaws. He shot toward the chicken yard, a makeshift arrangement, as Sister hadn’t time to put chicken wire up over the top, a precaution against hawks, who were hell on chickens.
Comet climbed up over the wire on the side, dropping smack into the middle of Peter’s chickens.
“Fox! Fox! We’ll all be killed,” the chickens screamed, running around. The smarter ones hid under the henhouse.
Raleigh growled at Rooster, then ran over to the chicken coop.
Golly, ahead of the Doberman, climbed up the chicken wire.“You get out of there!”
Raleigh hollered,“Golly, don’t go in there!”
Golly glanced down. Comet’s open jaws awaited.“You’ve got a point there, Raleigh.”
Rooster, frenzied, was digging, trying to get under the fence.
“Leave it!” Raleigh commanded.“You won’t get in in time and the chickens, if any live, will get out.” Turning his attention to Comet, equally as trapped as the chickens, Raleigh reasoned with him.“If you kill those chickens, Sister will have a fit. Now let’s work together. You need to get out.”
“I don’t trust him,” Comet snarled at Rooster.
Golly wasn’t sure Rooster could be controlled under the circumstances. Back on the ground she leaned into Raleigh, who understood her wordless thoughts.
In the distance they heard hounds; then they heard silence.
Comet knew hounds would find scent soon enough but they weren’t where he thought they’d have to cast again.“I need to get out of here before the pack is here.”
“You’re in dangerous territory even if you do get out. Your one hope is to go under the porch.”
“You can’t let him go! You can’t.” Rooster was beside himself.
“I have an idea.” Golly spoke to Comet:“Stay here. We can’t get in. The hounds can’t get in. If you don’t kill one chicken, Sister will put hounds up and us, too. She’ll let you go. It’s better than taking a chance with Rooster.”
“No!” Rooster spun in circles of frustration.
“Calm down.” Raleigh’s deep throaty growl meant business.“You can hunt rabbits all you want but leave the fox alone.”
“But I’m a harrier. I can hunt foxes as well as those damned foxhounds.”
“I don’t doubt that but you’re not supposed to hunt foxes and besides, where would you be if Sister hadn’t brought you home? She doesn’t want any fox killed. This is no way to reward her. Peter would be upset if he knew you offended Sister.”
Rooster, anguished, lay down, putting both paws over his eyes. He moaned.
“Your word?”
“Yes.” Comet, full of corn, wouldn’t have killed a chicken anyway, but no point in spoiling his image.
Raleigh stood over the harrier.“I’m bigger, I’m stronger, and if you even twitch, I will tear you up.”
“And I’ll scratch your eyes out.” Golly puffed up to three times her size. Then she hissed at Comet.“You, too. Worthless carcass!” She was brave but sitting under Raleigh’s chest she was especially brave.
The gyps in heat, the household animals, and Comet listened as cry picked up, then stopped again.
“I thought they’d be halfway here by now,” Comet commented.“I wonder what’s going on?”
Back at the edge of the woods, the hounds hit a hot pocket, one of those swirls of air sometimes ten or more degrees hotter than the air around it. The scent, already over their heads, scattered. As the hounds cast themselves St. Just flew low overhead. He circled, then flew down just above their heads.
“Target’s in the ravine. Comet split off from him. You’ll have a split pack if you aren’t careful.”
Dragon, ready to roll, shouted to Cora,“Let’s follow the raven.”
“No. We pick up scent properly. We aren’t gallivanting across the county because of one raven’s revenge. Put your nose to the ground and get to work. Now!”
The check, that pause in hunting where hounds must again find scent, although unexpected, was near the ravine, a half mile away if one could move in a straight line, which one couldn’t.
Sister leaned over to Martha.“Will you take the field? I’m feeling punk.”
Thrilled to be given such responsibility, acting field master, Martha gushed,“I’d be glad to. Would you like someone to go back with you?”
“You know, I think if I walk back I’ll be fine and if I feel better I’ll find you. I must have eaten something that doesn’t agree with me.” Standing in her stirrups, Sister said, “Stay with Martha.” Then she rode across the meadow as though heading home. To her surprise, Walter Lungrun followed her.