It is a commonplace to speak of the music of hounds at chase, but often
I have wondered how that music sounds in the ears of the deer or the fox
fleeing for its life.
Now, when we filled the place of the quarry, it was my destiny to solve
this problem, and I assert with confidence that the progeny of earth
can produce no more hideous noise. It had come near to us, and in the
desolate silence of the night the hellish harmonies of its volume
seemed terrific, yet I could discern the separate notes of which it was
composed, especially one deep, bell-like bay.
I remembered that I had heard this bay when we sat in the boat upon the
river and saw that poor noble done to death for the crime of loving the
Khania. As the hunt passed us then I observed that it burst from
the throat of the leading hound, a huge brute, red in colour, with
a coal-black ear, fangs that gleamed like ivory, and a mouth which
resembled a hot oven. I even knew the name of the beast, for afterwards
the Khan, whose peculiar joy it was, had pointed it out to me. He called
it Master, because no dog in the pack dared fight it, and told me that
it could kill an armed man alone.
Now, as its baying warned us, Master was not half a mile away!
The coming of the moonlight enabled us to gallop faster, especially as
here the ground was smooth, being covered with a short, dry turf, and
for the next two hours we gained upon the pack.
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