The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Well, sir, at all events, off they set to the mountains; and sure
enough, they weren't long there when they had the best of sport, but no
white hare came in their way. Koolawn, however, was kept in the slip the
whole day, in the hope of their startin' her, for they didn't wish to
have him tired if they should come across her. At last, it was gettin'
late, and when they were just on the point of givin' her up, and, goin'
home, begad she started, and before you'd say Jack Kobinson, Koolawn
and she were at it. Sich a chase, they say, was never seen. They flew at
sich a rate that the people could hardly keep their eyes upon them. The
hare went like the wind; but, begad, it was not every evening she had
sich a dog as famous Koolawn at her scut. He turned her, and turned her,
and every one thought he had her above a dozen of times, but still she
turned, and was off from him again. At this rate they went on for long
enough, until both began to fail, and to appear nearly run down. At
length the gallaut Koolawn had her; she gave a squeal that was heard,
they say, for miles. He had her, I say, hard and fast by the hip, but
it was only for a moment; how she escaped; from him nobody knows; but it
was thought that he wasn't able, from want of breath, to keep his hoult.
To make a long story short, she got off from him, turned up towards the;
cabin we're sittin' in, Koolawn, game as ever, still close to her; at
last she got in, and as the dog was about to spring in afther her, he
found the door shut in his face. There now was the proof of it; but
wait till you hear what's comin'. The men all ran up here and opened
the door, for there was only a latch upon it, and if the hare was in
existence, surely they'd find her now. Well, they closed the door at
wanst for fraid she'd escape them; but afther sarchin' to no purpose,
what do you think they found? No hare, at any rate, but ould Bet
Harramount pantin' in the straw there, and covered wid a rug, for she
hadn't time to get on the blanket--just as if the life was lavin'
her. The sweat, savin' your presence, was pourin' from her; and upon
examinin' her more closely, which they did, they found the marks of the
dog's teeth in one of her ould hips, which was freshly bleedin'. They
were now satisfied, I think, and--”
“But why did they not seize and carry her before a magistrate?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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