After some time the party arrived at the outskirts of the wood, and an individual was seen bounding along in the direction of the mountains--the two dogs in full pursuit of him. The noise, the animation, and the tumult of the pursuit were now astounding, and rang long and loud over the surface of the excited and awakened neighborhood, whilst the wild echoes of their inhuman enjoyment were giving back their terrible responses from the hills and valleys around them. The shouting, the urging on of the dogs by ferocious cries of encouragement, were loud, incessant, and full of a spirit which, at this day, it is terrible to reflect upon. The whole country was alive; and the loud, vociferous agitation which disturbed it, resembled the influence of one of those storms which lash the quiet sea into madness. Fresh crowds joined them, as we have said, and the tumult still became louder and stronger. In the meantime, _Shawn-na-Middogue's_ case--it was he--became hopeless--for it was the speed of the fleetest runner that ever lived to that of two powerful bloodhounds, animated, as they were, by their ferocious instincts. Indeed, the interest of the chase was heightened by the manner and conduct of the dogs, which, when they came upon the trail of the individual, in question, yelped aloud with an ecstatic delight that gave fresh courage to the vociferous band of pursuers. “Who can that man be?” asked one of them; “he seems to have wings to his feet.” “By the sacred light of day,” exclaimed another, “it is no other than the famous _Shawn-na-Middogue_ himself. I know him well; and even if I did not, who could mistake him by his speed of foot?” “Is that he?” said the mask; “then fifty pounds in addition to the government reward to the man who will shoot him down, or secure him, living or dead: only let him be taken.” Just then four or five persons, friends of course to the unfortunate outlaw, came in before the dogs across the trail, in consequence of which the animals became puzzled, and lost considerable time in regaining it, whilst Shawn, in the meantime, was fast making his way to the mountains. The reward, however, offered by the man in the black mask--for it was a black one--accelerated the speed of the pursuers, between whom a competition of terrible energy and action arose as to which of them should secure the public reward and the premium that were offered for his blood. Shawn, however, had been evidently exhausted, and sat down considerably in advance of them, on the mountain side, to take breath, in order to better the chance of effecting his escape; but whilst seated, panting after his race, the dogs gained rapidly upon him. Having put his hand over his eyes, and looked keenly down--for he had the sight of an eagle--the approach of the dogs did not seem at all to alarm him. “Ah, thank God, they will have him soon,” said the mask, “and it is a pity that we cannot give them the reward. Who owns those noble dogs?”