Joe was very glad when the editor told him that he was to go with the fox-hunters and act as master of ceremonies. Fox-hunting was a sport of which he was very fond, for it seemed to combine all the elements of health and pleasure in outdoor life. Shortly after Joe went to the plantation the editor of The Countryman had brought from Hillsborough a hound puppy, which had been sent him by a Mr. Birdsong. This Mr. Birdsong was a celebrated5 breeder of fox-hounds, having at one time the only pack south of Virginia that could catch a red fox. He was a great admirer of the editor of The Countryman, and he sent him the dog as a gift. In his letter Mr. Birdsong wrote that the puppy had been raised under a gourd-vine, and so the editor called him Jonah. Joe Maxwell thought the name was a very good one, but it turned out that the dog was very much better than his name. The editor gave the dog to Joe, who took great pains in training him. Before Jonah was six months old he had learned to trail a fox-skin, and by the time he was a year old hardly a morning passed that Joe did not drag the skin for the pleasure of seeing Jonah trail it. He developed great speed and powers of scent6, and he was not more than two years old before he had run down and caught a red fox, unaided and alone. Naturally, Joe was very proud of Jonah, and he was glad of an opportunity to show off the dog’s hunting qualities.
In training Jonah, Joe had also unwittingly trained an old fox that made his home on the plantation. The fox came to be well known to every hunter in the county. He was old, and tough, and sly. He had been pursued so often that if he heard a dog bark in the early morning hours, or a horn blow, he was up and away. The negroes called him “Old Sandy,” and this was the name he came to be known by. Jonah when a puppy had trailed Old Sandy many a time, and Joe knew all his tricks and turnings. He decided7 that it would be well to give the young officer’s pack some exercise with this cunning old fox.
All the arrangements for the hunt were made by the editor. Joe Maxwell was to escort Miss Nellie Carter, who, although a Virginian and a good horsewoman, had never ridden across the country after a fox. The lad was to manage so that Miss Carter should see at least as much of the hunt as the young men who were to follow the hounds, while Harbert was to go along to pull down and put up the fences. To Joe this was a new and comical feature of fox-hunting, but the editor said that this would be safer for Miss Carter.
When the morning of the hunt arrived, Joe was ready before any of the guests, as he had intended to be. He wanted to see to everything, much to Harbert’s amusement. Like all boys, he was excited and enthusiastic, and he was very anxious to see the hunt go off successfully. Finally, when all had had a cup of coffee, they mounted their horses and were ready to go.
“Now, then,” said Joe, feeling a little awkward and embarrassed, as he knew that Miss Nellie Carter was looking and listening, “there must be no horn-blowing until after the hunt is over. Of course, you can blow if you want to,” Joe went on, thinking he had heard one of the young men laugh, “but we won’t have much of a hunt. We are going after Old Sandy this morning, and he doesn’t like to hear a horn at all. If we can keep the dogs from barking until we get to the field, so much the better.”
“You must pay attention,” said Miss Carter, as some of the young men were beginning to make sarcastic9 suggestions. “I want to see a real fox-hunt, and I’m sure it will be better to follow Mr. Maxwell’s advice.”
Joe blushed to here his name pronounced so sweetly, but in the dim twilight10 of morning his embarrassment11 could not be seen.
“Are your dogs all here, sir?” he asked the young man who had brought his hounds. “I have counted seven, and mine makes eight.”
“Is yours a rabbit-dog?” the young man asked.
“Oh, he’s very good for rabbits,” replied Joe, irritated by the question.
“Then hadn’t we better leave him?” the young man asked, not unkindly, “He might give us a good deal of trouble.”
“I’ll answer for that,” said Joe. “If everybody is ready, we’ll go.”
“You are to be my escort, Mr. Maxwell,” said Miss Carter, taking her place by Joe’s side, “and I know I shall be well taken care of.”
The cavalcade12 moved off and for a mile followed the public road. Then it turned into a lane and then into a plantation road that led to what was called the “Turner old field,” where for three or four years, and perhaps longer, Old Sandy had made his headquarters. By the time the hunters reached the field, which was a mile in extent, and made up of pasture-land overgrown with broom-sedge, wild plum-trees, and blackberry-vines, the dawn had disappeared before the sun. Red and yellow clouds mingled13 together in the east, and a rosy14 glow fell across the hills and woods. As they halted for Harbert to take down the fence, Joe stole a glance at his companion, and as she sat with her lips parted and the faint reflection of the rosy sky on her cheeks, he thought he had never seen a prettier picture. Jonah seemed to be of the same opinion, for he stood by the young lady’s horse, looking into her face, and whistled wistfully through his nose.
“That is your dog, I know!” said Miss Carter. “Why, he’s a perfect beauty! Poor fellow!” she exclaimed, stretching her arm out and filliping her fingers. Jonah gathered himself together, leaped lightly into the air, and touched her fair hand with his velvet15 tongue. Joe blushed with delight. “Why, he jumped as high as a man’s head!” she cried. “I know he will catch the fox.”
“I think we have stolen a march on Old Sandy,” said Joe, “and if we have, you’ll see a fine race. I hope the other dogs can keep up.”
“Ah,” said their owner, “they are Maryland dogs.”
“My dog,” said Joe, proudly, “is a Birdsong.”
By this time the hunters had crossed the fence, and the dogs, with the exception of Jonah, were beginning to cast about in the broom-sedge and brier-patches.
“I hope Jonah isn’t lazy,” said Miss Carter, watching the dog as he walked in quiet dignity by the side of her horse.
“Oh, no,” said Joe, “he isn’t lazy; but he never gets in a hurry until the time comes.”
The young men tried to tease Joe about Jonah, but the lad only smiled, and Jonah gradually worked away from the horses. It was noticed that he did not hunt as closely as the other dogs, nor did he nose the ground as carefully. He swept the field in ever-widening circles, going in an easy gallop16, that was the perfection of grace, and energy, and strength. Presently Harbert cried out:
“Looky yonder, Marse Joe! Looky yonder at Jonah!”
All eyes were turned in the direction that Harbert pointed17. The dog was hunting where the brown sedge was higher than his head, and he had evidently discovered something, for he would leap into the air, look around, and drop back into the sedge, only to go through the same performance with increasing energy.
“Why don’t he give a yelp18 or two and call the other dogs to help him?” exclaimed one of the young men.
“He’s no tattler,” said Joe, “and he doesn’t need any help. That fox has either just got up or he isn’t twenty yards away. Just wait!”
The next moment Jonah gave tongue with thrilling energy, repeated the challenge twice, and was off, topping the fence like a bird. The effect on the other dogs was magical; they rushed to the cry, caught up the red-hot drag, scrambled19 over the fence the best they could, and went away, followed by a cheer from Harbert that shook the dew from the leaves. The young men were off, too, and Joe had all he could do to hold his horse, which was in the habit of running with the hounds. The sound of the hunt grew fainter as the dogs ran across a stretch of meadow-land and through a skirt of woods to the open country beyond; and Joe and Miss Carter, accompanied by Harbert, proceeded leisurely20 to the brow of a hill near by.
“If that is Old Sandy,” said Joe, “he will come across the Bermuda field yonder, turn to the left, and pass us not very far from that dead pine.” Joe was very proud of his knowledge.
“Why, we shall see the best of the hunt!” cried Miss Carter, enthusiastically.
They sat on their horses and listened. Sometimes the hounds seemed to be coming nearer, and then they would veer21 off. Finally, their musical voices melted away in the distance. Joe kept his eyes on the Bermuda field, and so did Harbert, while Miss Carter tapped her horse’s mane gently with her riding-whip, and seemed to be enjoying the scene. They waited a long time, and Joe was beginning to grow disheartened, when Harbert suddenly exclaimed:
“Looky yonder, Marse Joe! what dat gwine ’cross de Bermuda pastur’?”
Across the brow of the hill slipped a tawny22 shadow—slipped across and disappeared before Miss Carter could see it.
“That’s Old Sandy,” cried Joe; “now watch for Jonah!”
Presently the hounds could be heard again, coming nearer and nearer. Then a larger and a darker shadow sprang out of the woods and swept across the pasture, moving swiftly and yet with the regularity23 of machinery24. At short intervals25 a little puff26 of vapor27 would rise from this black shadow, and then the clear voice of Jonah would come ringing over the valley. Then the rest of the dogs, a group of shadows, with musical voices, swept across the Bermuda field.
“Oh, how beautiful!” exclaimed Miss Carter, clapping her little hands.
“Wait,” said Joe; “don’t make any noise. He’ll pass here, and go to the fence yonder, and if he isn’t scared to death you’ll see a pretty trick.”
It was a wide circle the fox made after he passed through the Bermuda field. He crossed the little stream that ran through the valley, skirted a pine thicket28, ran for a quarter of a mile along a plantation path, and then turned and came down the fallow ground that lay between the creek29 and the hill where Joe and Miss Carter, with Harbert, had taken their stand. It was a comparatively level stretch of nearly a half-mile. The old corn-rows ran lengthwise the field, and down one of these Old Sandy came in full view of those who were waiting to see him pass. He was running rapidly, but not at full speed, and, although his tongue was hanging out, he was not distressed30. Reaching the fence two hundred yards away from the spectators, he clambered lightly to the top, sat down on a rail and began to lick his fore-paws, stopping occasionally, with one paw suspended in the air, to listen to the dogs. In a moment or two more Jonah entered the field at the head of the valley. Old Sandy, carefully balancing himself on the top rail of the fence, walked it for a hundred yards or more, then gathering31 himself together sprang into the air and fell in the broom-sedge fully8 twenty feet away from the fence.
“Oh, I hope the dogs won’t catch him!” exclaimed Miss Carter. “He surely deserves to escape!”
“He got sense like folks,” said Harbert.
“He stayed on the fence too long. Just look at Jonah!” cried Joe.
The hound came down the field like a whirlwind. He was running at least thirty yards to the left of the furrow32 the fox had followed.
“Why, he isn’t following the track of the fox,” exclaimed Miss Carter. “I thought hounds trailed foxes by the scent.”
“They do,” said Joe, “but Jonah doesn’t need to follow it as the other dogs do. The dog that runs with his nose to the ground can never catch a red fox.”
“Isn’t he beautiful!” cried the young lady, as Jonah rushed past, his head up and his sonorous33 voice making music in the air. He topped the fence some distance above the point where the fox had left it, lost the trail, and made a sweeping34 circle to the right, increasing his speed as he did so. Still at fault, he circled widely to the left, picked up the drag a quarter of a mile from the fence, and pushed on more eagerly than ever. The rest of the dogs had overrun the track at the point where the fox had turned to enter the field, but they finally found it again, and went by the spectators in fine style, running together very prettily35. At the fence they lost the trail, and for some minutes they were casting about. One of the younger dogs wanted to take the back track, but Harbert turned him around, and was about to set the pack right, when the voice of Jonah was heard again, clear and ringing. Old Sandy, finding himself hard pushed, had dropped flat in the grass and allowed the hound to overrun him. Then he doubled, and started back. He gained but little, but he was still game. Jonah whirled in a short circle, and was after the fox almost instantly. Old Sandy seemed to know that this was his last opportunity. With a marvelous burst of speed he plunged36 through the belated dogs that were hunting for the lost drag, slipped through the fence, and went back by the spectators like a flash. There was a tremendous outburst of music from the dogs as they sighted him, and for one brief moment Joe was afraid that Jonah would be thrown out. The next instant the dog appeared on the fence, and there he sighted the fox. It was then that the courage and speed of Jonah showed themselves. Nothing could have stood up before him. Within a hundred yards he ran into the fox. Realizing his fate, Old Sandy leaped into the air with a squall, and the next moment the powerful jaws37 of Jonah had closed on him.
0216
By this time the rest of the hunters had come in sight. From a distance they witnessed the catch. They saw the rush that Jonah made; they saw Miss Carter and Joe Maxwell galloping38 forward; they saw the lad leap from his horse and bend over the fox, around which the dogs were jumping and howling; they saw him rise, with hat in hand, and present something to his fair companion; and then they knew that the young lady would ride home with Old Sandy’s brush suspended from her saddle.
These hunters came up after a while. Their horses were jaded39, and the riders themselves looked unhappy.
“Did you notice which one of my dogs caught the fox?” asked the young man to whom the pack belonged.
“No, sir, I did not,” said Joe.
“I declare that is too funny!” exclaimed Miss Carter, laughing merrily, and then she went on to describe the chase as she saw it. The young man smiled as though he thought it was all a joke, and that night he called up Harbert, and offered him a dollar in Confederate money if he would tell the truth about the matter. Harbert told him the truth, but it was so unpleasant that the young man forgot all about the money, although a dollar at that time was worth not more than twelve and a half cents.
Miss Carter seemed to be almost as proud of Jonah’s performance as Joe was, and this made the lad feel very proud and happy. But, as they were going home, an incident happened which, for the time, and for some days afterward40, drove all thoughts of Jonah and fox-hunting out of his mind. The hunters went back the way they had come, and shortly after they entered the public road they met a small procession that turned out to be very interesting, especially to Joe. First, there was a spring wagon41, drawn42 by one horse and driven by a negro. On the seat with the negro, and securely fastened with ropes, was Mr. John Pruitt, the deserter. Behind the negro and Mr. Pruitt were two soldiers with guns, and three soldiers mounted on horses, and armed, acted as escort. The young officers who had been hunting with Joe Maxwell stopped the wagon and made inquiries43 until they had satisfied their curiosity. Joe would have spoken to Mr. Pruitt, but the latter, by an almost imperceptible movement of the head, seemed to forbid it. His face was as serene45 as if he had been on dress parade. As the wagon was about to move on, he spoke44:
“Ain’t that the young chap that works in the printin’-office down by Phoenix46 school-house?” he asked, nodding his head toward Joe, without looking at him.
“Yes,” said one of the young officers.
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Pruitt, drawing a long breath, “I wish you’d please tell him to be so good ez to git word to my wife down in the Yarberry settlement that I won’t have a chance to come home in a week or more, an’ she’ll hafter do the best she kin2 tell I git back.”
Joe said he would be glad to do so.
“I ’low’d he would,” said Mr. Pruitt, still speaking to the young officer; “an’ I’m mighty47 much erbliged.”
Then the little procession moved on toward Hillsborough, and the hunters went homeward. Miss Nellie Carter was very much interested.
“He doesn’t look a bit like a deserter,” she said, impulsively48, “and I’m sure there’s some mistake. I don’t believe a deserter could hold his head up.”
Joe then made bold to tell her what he had heard—that Mr. Pruitt and several other soldiers had come home because they heard their families were suffering for food. Miss Carter was very much interested, and wanted to go with the lad to visit Mrs. Pruitt.
“But I can’t go,” said Joe; “there’s nobody to do my work in the printing-office. I’ll send Mrs. Pruitt word to-night by some of the negroes.”
“No, no!” cried Miss Carter, “that will never do. I’ll see my cousin and tell him about it. You must go to-day, and I’ll go with you. Oh, it mustn’t be postponed49; you must go this very afternoon! Why, what is this little newspaper you are printing out here in the woods? The woman may be suffering.”
Miss Carter saw her cousin, the editor, and lost no time in telling him about Mr. Pruitt and his family. The editor, who was one of the best of men, was so much interested that, instead of sending Joe with the young lady, he went himself, taking in his buggy a stout50 hamper51 of provisions. When they came back, Miss Carter’s eyes were red, as if she had been crying, and the editor looked very serious.
“I’m very glad you didn’t go,” he said to Joe, when Miss Carter had disappeared in the house.
“Was anybody dead?” asked Joe.
“No,” replied the editor. “Oh, no; nothing so bad as that. But the woman and her children have been in a terrible fix! I don’t know who is to blame for it, but I shall score the county officers and the Ladies’ Aid Society in the next paper. These people have been actually in a starving condition, and they look worse than if they had gone through a spell of fever. They are nothing but skin and bones. The main trouble is that they live in such an out-of-the-way place. The house is a mile from the public road, and hard to find.”
“I heard,” said Joe, “that the provost-marshal had something to do with holding back supplies that ought to have gone to Mr. Pruitt’s family.”
“How could he?” asked the editor; and then he added, quickly: “Why, of course he could; he is in charge of everything. He is judge, jury, lawyer, and general dictator. Who told you about it?”
“I heard it in town,” said Joe.
“Well, he’s a mean rascal,” said the editor. He bade Joe good-evening, and started in the house, but half-way up the steps he paused and called to the lad.
“Here’s something I forgot to ask you about,” he said, taking a letter from his pocket. “It is a note from Deo about you. What do you know about Deo?”
“About me?” said Joe. “I used to know Mr. Deo when I was a little boy.”
“Well, you are not such a big boy now,” said the editor, smiling. “Here is what Deo says: ‘You have a boy working in your printing-office who can make himself very useful in a good cause when the time comes. His name is Joe Maxwell, and he is a very good friend of mine. At least he used to be. Before long I shall send for him, and, whether I send in the day or in the night, I want you to let him come. If I were to tell you now what I want with him, you would laugh and say that all fat men are foolish. What I want him to do can be done only by a woman or a boy. A woman is not to be thought of, and I know of no boy I can trust except Maxwell. Just give him your permission beforehand, so that there will be no delay.’ Now what do you think about it?” inquired the editor.
“May I go?” asked Joe.
“That is for you to decide,” said the editor. “I have been knowing Deometari for nearly twenty years. He’s a good lawyer and a clever man. But, if you do go, be careful of yourself. Don’t get into any trouble. Tell Deo that all of us like you out here, and we don’t want any foolishness.”
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1
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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3
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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6
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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7
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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8
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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10
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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12
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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13
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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14
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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16
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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veer
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| vt.转向，顺时针转，改变；n.转向 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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44
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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45
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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47
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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48
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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49
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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