It was on a Saturday afternoon; and we were turning out for hare and hounds. The quarter was hard upon its close, for September was passing. Van Rheyn had never seen hare and hounds: it had been let alone during the hotter weather: and it was Tod who now warned him that he might not be able to keep up the running. It requires fleet legs and easy breath, as every one knows; and Van Rheyn had never much exercised either. "What is just the game?" he asked in his quaintly-turned phrase. And I answered him--for Tod had gone away. "You see those strips of paper that they have torn out of old copybooks, and are twisting? That is for the scent. The hare fills his pockets with it, and drops a piece of it every now and then as he runs. We, the hounds, follow his course by means of the scent, and catch him if we can." "And then?" questioned Van Rheyn. "Then the game is over." "And what if you not catch him?" "The hare wins; that's all. What he likes to do is to double upon us cunningly and lead us home again after him." "But in all that there is only running." "We vault over the obstructions--gates, and stiles, and hedges. Or, if the hedges are too high, scramble through them." "But some hedges are very thick and close: nobody could get through them," debated Van Rheyn, taking the words, as usual, too literally. "Then we are dished. And have to find some other way onwards, or turn back." "I can do what you say quite easily." "All right, Charley," I repeated: as Tod had done. And neither of us, nor any one else, had the smallest thought that it was not all right. Millichip was chosen hare. Snepp turned cranky over something or other at the last moment, and backed out of it. He made the best hare in the school: but Millichip was nearly as fleet a runner. What with making the scent, and having it out with Snepp, time was hindered; and it must have been getting on for four o'clock when we started. Which docked the run considerably, for we had to be in at six to tea. On that account, perhaps, Millichip thought he must get over the ground the quicker; for I don't think we had ever made so swift a course. Letting the hare get well on ahead, the signal was given, and we started after him in full cry, rending the air with shouts, and rushing along like the wind. A right-down good hare Millichip turned out to be; doubling and twisting and finessing, and exasperating the hounds considerably. About five o'clock he had made tracks for home, as we found by the scent: but we could neither see him nor catch him. Later, I chanced to come to grief in a treacherous ditch, lost my straw hat, and tore the sleeve of my jacket. This threw me behind the rest; and when I pelted up to the next stile, there stood Van Rheyn. He had halted to rest his arms on it; his breath was coming in alarming gasps, his face whiter than a sheet. "Halloa, Van Rheyn! What's up? The pace is too much for you." "It was my breath," said he, when he could answer. "I go on now."