In Mr. Knox's CountrySomerville, E. Oe. (Edith Oenone)
General
In Mr. Knox's Country
Somerville, E. Oe. (Edith Oenone)
British -- Ireland -- Fiction; Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Judges -- Fiction
Daniel stands sixteen hands two inches in his stockings, of which he
wears one white one, the rest of his enormous body being of that
unlovely bluish-dun colour to which a dark bay horse turns when
clipped. His best friend could not deny that he "made a noise"; his
worst enemy was fain to admit that he was glad to hear it in front of
him at a nasty place. Some one said that he was like a Settled
Religious Faith, and no lesser simile conveys the restful certainty
imparted by him. It was annoying, no doubt, to hear people say, after
I had accomplished feats of considerable valour, that that horse
couldn't make a mistake, and a baby could ride him; but these were mere
chastenings, negligible to the possessor of a Settled Religious Faith.
I trotted on through the rain, up a steep road seamed with
watercourses, with Lonen Hill towering on my left, and a lesser hill on
my right. Looking back, I saw Flurry dismount, give his horse to a
boy, and clamber on to the wall of the road: he dropped into the wood,
and the hounds swarmed over after him, looking like midgets beside the
tremendous citadel that they were to attack. Hickey and Michael,
equally dwarfed by the immensities of the position, were already
betaking themselves through the mist to their allotted outposts in
space. Five-and-twenty couple of hounds would have been little enough
for that great hill-side; Flurry had fifteen, and with them he began
his tough struggle through the covert, a solitary spot of red among
pine-stems, and heather, and rocks, cheering his fifteen couple with
horn and voice, while he climbed up and up by devious ways, seemingly
as marvellously endowed with wind as the day itself. I cantered on
till, at the point where the wood ended, it became my melancholy duty
to leave the road and enter upon the assault of the hill. I turned in
at a gap beside the guardian thorn-bush of a holy well, on whose
branches votive rags fluttered in the wind, and addressed Daniel to his
task of carrying thirteen stone up an incline approximating to a rise
of one in three.
A path with the angles of a flash of lightning indicated the views of
the local cow as to the best method of dealing with the situation.
Daniel and I accepted this, as we had done more than once before, and
we laboured upwards, parallel with the covert, while the wind, heavy
with mist, came down to meet us, and shoved against us like a living
thing. We gained at length a shelf on the hill-side, and halting there
in the shelter of a furzy hummock, I applied myself to my job. From
the shelf I commanded a long stretch of the boundary wall of the wood,
including a certain gap which was always worthy of special attention,
and for a quarter of an hour I bent a zealous and travelling gaze upon
the wall, with the concentration of a professor of a Higher Thought
Society.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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