Whenever
a big buck was at bay, and punishing the leading hounds, he was
ever the first to get his hold; no matter how great the danger,
he never waited but recklessly dashed in. "There goes Bertram!
Look at Bertram! Well done, Bertram!" were the constant
exclamations of a crowd of excited spectators when a powerful
buck was brought to bay. He was a wonderful dog, but I
prophesied an early grave for him, as no dog in the world could
long escape death who rushed so recklessly upon his dangerous
game.* His sister "Hecate," was more careful, and she is alive at
this moment, and a capital seizer of great strength combined with
speed, having derived the latter from her dam, "Lena," an
Australian greyhound, than whom a better or truer bitch never
lived. "Old Bran," and his beautiful son "Lucifer," were fine
specimens of grayhound and deerhound, and as good as gold.
*Speared through the body by the horns of a buck elk and killed
shortly after this was written.
There was not a single elk track the whole of the way up the
mountain, and upon arriving at the top, I gave up all hope of
finding for that day, and I enjoyed the beautiful view over the
vast valley of forest which lay below, spangled with green
plains, and bounded by the towering summit of Adam's Peak, at
about twenty-five miles' distance.
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