People panted. Horses’ ears pricked forward; they thought stopping pure folly, but they did as they were told.
Cora had overrun the line. Asa came up to Diana. He, too, changed his tune.
“What’s happening? What’s happening?” Trident thought he’d done something wrong.
“Pipe down and listen.” Dasher put his nose to the ground.
In a situation like this, Dragon was invaluable, for he was highly intelligent and had an incredible nose. But he’d been left back in the kennel since Shaker felt he had enough good hounds out and Dragon could be a handful. He thought the young ones, especially this T litter, might do better without Dragon today.
Little by little, Dasher, not as brilliant as his brother but methodical, worked his way back to the bridge. “I think he’s doubled back.”
Hounds milled around, then Cora said, “Well, there’s only one way to be sure. Dasher, go through the bridge; be careful, because some fool human will say you are doubling back on the line, and then Sybil, who’s new, remember, will rate you. But if he has doubled back, his scent will be stronger on the other side. Which direction, I don’t know. Take Diana with you.”
Both Dasher and Diana tore back across the bridge.
“Heel,” Ronnie Haslip whispered to Crawford, who nodded knowingly.
Technically they were right, but Sister did not call out to her hounds to join the others. Diana and Dasher were terrific second-year entry.
Sybil, forward of the bridge, turned to head back. Shaker sat right on the far side of the bridge, close to his lead hounds.
Dasher said low to Diana, “Here, I think this is fresher.”
She put her nose down and inhaled. “Yes, but we’d best be sure before we call them all back to us.”
They ran top speed and then were quite certain that the fox had headed up the ridge. “Yes! He’s here. Come on.”
Shaker, thrilled with these two, blew three doubling notes, sending the others on to them, claws clicking on the wooden floor of the bridge.
They emerged, cut hard right, and flew up the ridge. They all jumped the newly installed zigzag fence, running hard over Nola’s and Peppermint’s graves, headstones not yet carved.
Sister hesitated one moment, waiting for her huntsman to get ahead of her. She then rode up the ridge but wide of the new grave sites. Ken Fawkes, usually a strong rider, lost control of his horse, who wanted to follow the hounds directly. The big dark horse, almost black, catapulted over the first line of the zigzag fence, took one giant stride, and was over the second. Deep hoofprints now mingled with Uncle Yancy’s prints and those of the hounds.
The woods reverberated with the song of the hounds. Within minutes they were back over the fence line dividing After All Farm from Roughneck Farm.
Sister, knowing she had to head back to the new coop, turned and pressed Lafayette on. She cursed because the underbrush was thick. The leaves were still on the trees, and she couldn’t see her hounds in the thick woods. This was another reason cubbing was harder than formal hunting. If she didn’t hurry up she’d get thrown out and be way behind. She reached the new coop, got well over, then headed right on a diagonal across the open field. She could see the flowers and hay swaying and sterns swaying, too, where hounds pushed through, their voices in unison.
“He’s close! He’s close!”
And he was. Uncle Yancy slid into the groundhog hole, rolling right on top of the groundhog.
“I beg your pardon.”
The groundhog, large and unkempt, but jolly, said, “Care for some sweet grass?”
“Thank you, no.” Yancy couldn’t understand how any animal could be as sloppy as this fellow. “You know within a second those hounds will start digging at your main entrance.”
“Good. That will save me work.”
“I shall assume you have other exits should it come to that.”
“One of them right under a hanging hornet’s nest. Three feet long it is.” The groundhog, lying on his back, laughed just as Cora dove toward the hole and began digging frantically.
Uncle Yancy’s scent was so strong, it drove her wild. Red, moist earth splattered up behind her paws. Diana joined her at the edges, as did Asa and Dasher.
Trident asked his sister, “Are we supposed to do that?”
“I think you have to be first. There isn’t room for us to get in there, but I think we’re supposed to sing really, really loud.”
Trudy and Trident did just that and were joined by every hound there. Triumph!
Shaker arrived, hopped off Gunpowder, and blew the happy notes signifying that these wonderful hounds had denned their fox.
Sybil rode up, taking Gunpowder’s reins.
“I know my job,” the gray snapped, incensed that Sybil thought he might walk off.
Betty rode in from the opposite direction as the field pulled up not ten yards away.
Shaker took the horn from his lips. “He’s in there. He’s in there. What good hounds. Good hounds.” He grabbed Cora’s tail, pulling her out of there. She weighed seventy pounds of pure muscle. “You’re quite the girl.”
“I am!” Cora turned a circle of pure joy.
Then Shaker called each hound by name, praising their good work. He petted the puppies.
Sister rode up. “A fine beginning. Shall we call it a day?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Shaker smiled. “And did you see how Dasher and Diana came back across the bridge? That’s as nice a piece of work as I have ever seen in my life.”
Sister looked down at the two tricolor hounds. “Diana and Dasher, you have made me very, very proud.”
They wagged their whole bodies.
“Proud of you, proud of you.” Shaker again blew the notes of victory, then, without a grunt, lifted himself back into the saddle.
As they rode back toward the kennels, Ken, ashen-faced, came alongside his mother-in-law. “I am terribly sorry. I couldn’t hold him. I—”
She held up her hand. “Ken, to have the fox and hounds run across your grave is a good thing. No apology necessary. Nola would be laughing with the excitement of it.”
No one else said a word about it while the Bancrofts were around.
Uncle Yancy thanked his host and stuck his head up to make sure there were no stragglers.
Bitsy, in a pawpaw tree, giggled. “A near thing. And running over Nola and Peppermint like that.”
“That’s an unquiet grave,” the red fox said. Mask to the west, he headed for home.
CHAPTER 15
Crawford and Marty Howard hosted a First Day of Cubbing breakfast. Upon reflection they decided to pass on having an evening gathering. Instead they hired a local caterer who set up outdoor stoves outside Sister’s stable. Crawford considered setting them up on the long rolling lawn overlooking Sister’s fall gardens, but then he’d have to tell her. He wanted the breakfast to be a surprise, as did Marty. Having it back at the stable where the trailers were parked wouldn’t disturb her lawn. As people often brought homemade breads, sandwiches, or drinks, sharing same at the trailers, Crawford and Marty thought they wouldn’t need to ask permission and the surprise would be complete.