THE HUNT Before I was two years old a circumstance happened which I have never forgotten.

It was early in the spring; there had been a little frost in the night, and a light mist still hung over the woods and meadows.

I and the other colts were feeding at the lower part of the field when we heard what sounded like the cry of dogs.

The oldest of the colts raised his head, pricked his ears, and said, "There are the hounds!" and cantered off, followed by the rest of us, to the upper part of the field, where we could look over the hedge and see several fields beyond.
My mother and an old riding horse of our master's were also standing near, and seemed to know all about it.

"They have found a hare," said my mother, "and if they come this way we shall see the hunt." And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field of young wheat next to ours.