The Hounds and the Fury (25 page)

“I’ll see to him.” Shaker left.

“I spoke to Sybil last night,” said Sister. “She’s all right. She said what ran through her mind is that her boys no longer have a father, and she didn’t want to leave them motherless. She knew she had to aim true.”

“You know some women give up foxhunting when their children are small. Too dangerous,” Betty mentioned.

“Why would you want your child to grow up seeing you shy off from a little danger now and then? Teaches them to be wimps.” Sister had firm opinions about these things.

“Come on, you big baby.” Shaker opened the door to the feeding room, Dragon at his heels.

“You’re healing up nicely,” Betty complimented him.

“I want to hunt.”
Dragon sat down.

“And I hear you ate some of Iffy’s bones.” Betty gravely pointed a finger at him.

“Dry as toast.”

Betty didn’t know what he’d said, but he made her laugh.

“I almost forgot. Gray gave me a titanium stock pin!” Sister said, excited. “Garvey had it made.”

“No kidding.” Betty was impressed.

“I’ll wear it next hunt.”

“Whose feast day is it? If I’m not going to church I want to know in case anyone asks.”

“You’re an Episcopalian,” Sister dryly replied. “However, it’s the day of St. Vincent of Saragossa, who was roasted on a gridiron, among other tortures, and died in 304
AD
.” She thought a moment. “Awful way to go.”

“Think of Angel. Although it wasn’t awful. Peaceful really—but still, she was murdered.”

“She was, but when it’s your time, it’s your time. Iffy was the agent of her murder, and were she alive, she could be punished. But still, it was Angel’s time.” Sister took a deep breath, then handed her cup to Betty for more tea.

“Wasn’t Donny Sweigart a surprise?” Betty returned to yesterday’s drama. “When I heard back at the trailers I was surprised. He’s not but so smart, and I never took him seriously. I was wrong. He has courage. He helped save Sybil.”

“True enough. He could have stayed hidden. After all, he had two strong incentives.” Sister reached for the refilled cup.

“To save his life, you mean, since Jason didn’t know he was there. If he’d known there was a witness he would have shot him.”

“Good reason.” Shaker blinked.

“The other reason being that our dear Donny has been baiting foxes. He hasn’t set traps yet. He’s been putting out frozen globs of blood,” Sister told them.

“What good does it do frozen?” Shaker snorted.

“Well, that’s just it, but he figured the fabled January thaw has to happen. They enjoy the treat. He’ll put out more in the same place, but in a trap. Voila.” She paused. “He’s even using the discarded blood he picks up from the hospital. To save money buying chickens.”

“Sister, what the hell is he doing trapping foxes?” Shaker sat upright.

“Crawford,” she replied, one eyebrow shooting upwards.

“But he’s supposed to keep an eye out on dens for us!” Betty found this almost as scandalizing as Jason’s crimes.

“After I profusely thanked him, after Ben took a statement, I walked him away from the group and asked him. He said Crawford was paying one hundred dollars a fox.”

“Highway robbery.” Shaker’s voice rose.

“So what, now we buy back our own foxes? The ones originally in our coverts?” Betty’s face was flushed.

“Had a little talk with Donny. I said I’d give him a monthly stipend, find more work for him, but he absolutely must never remove one of our foxes.”

“Where will we get the money?” Betty knew the inner workings of the club.

“I have no idea, but I’ll find it somewhere,” Sister said with resignation.

“Dammit, he has a job at Sanifirm,” Shaker cursed.

“Which Crawford is trying to buy,” Sister replied.

“Oh, that’s great, just great.” Shaker rolled his eyes.

“But Donny likes us. If we give him regular part-time work, I think all will be well.”

“How regular?” Betty stared at her teacup.

“Reading the leaves,” Sister laughed.

“I’d have to tear open the bag.”

“One thousand dollars a month,” Sister announced.

“Christ.” Shaker, although not bearing the weight of financial need, since he was a club employee, nevertheless cared for Jefferson Hunt and identified with it in every respect.

“Like I said, I’ll find it somewhere. And it won’t be this minute. The other thing”—she smiled—“he wants to go to court to change his name.”

“He wants to be called Jude,” Betty giggled.

“Brad,” Shaker laconically added with a twinkle in his eye.

“No. He wants to drop the junior. He said he hated being called Junior as a kid. I said I’d help.”

“Funny what affects people,” Betty mused. Then she changed the subject. “Forgot to ask you. I remember, then it slips out of my mind.”

“Old age.” Shaker lifted one eyebrow.

“Balls. We’re the same age. Too much going on,” Betty fired back. “How many spoons?”

“Sixty-one,” Sister immediately answered.

“What are you two jabbering about?” Shaker raised his eyebrows as Betty handed Sister another cup of tea.

“Every New Year’s I count all the spoons in the house. Mother used to do it. Now I do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have an even number of spoons?” Betty pretended this was serious.

“Yes, you nitwit. Haven’t you ever lost a spoon?”

“Never,” Betty lied, face angelic.

“Spare me.” Sister laughed.

“It’s someone’s time. Sometimes I believe that and sometimes I don’t.” Betty looked from her master to her huntsman, returning to the deeper subject.

“Somerset Maugham wrote this in one of his books. I like Maugham,” Sister smiled. She was an avid reader. “A master and his servant were riding toward Mecca, and they met Death with a surprised expression on his face. The master turned his horse away from Death and raced to Samarra. The servant said to Death, ‘Why were you so startled to see my master?’ Death said, ‘I was surprised to see him here, as I have an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.’”

Both Shaker and Betty thought about this.

Shaker finally said, “You can’t outrun Fate.”

“Or old age,” Sister remarked. “’Course, you can slow old age down, throw marbles under his feet.”

Another set of headlights shone on the wall. The sun now cast long beautiful shadows over the snow. The stable and farm buildings glowed.

Dragon stood up.

Two doors slammed, although the second one took longer than the first.

A knock on the door soon followed.

“Come in,” Sister beckoned.

Tootie, Val, and Felicity trooped in.

Betty naturally assumed they were still upset over yesterday’s events.

“Sister, can we talk to you?” Val asked, ever the leader.

“You can, and you can talk in front of Shaker and Betty. Whatever you say stays here. We’re full of secrets.” She smiled.

Tootie looked at Shaker, then Betty, then Sister. “We need your advice.”

“We have a problem,” Val jumped in.

“No, we don’t.” Felicity showed a new, rebellious streak.

“Felicity, I can’t believe you’re saying that.” Val was ready for an argument.

“It’s not exactly a problem, it’s”—Tootie struggled—“new information.”

“It’s a goddamned problem,” Val blurted out, forgetting she was in the presence of adults, then quickly realizing it. “Sorry.”

“You owe me one dollar.” Felicity’s jaw set as she held out her hand.

“I can’t believe you.” Val pulled money out of her pocket, peeled off a dollar, and slapped it in Felicity’s hand, hard.

“Girls, it’s first light. This must be important.” Sister gently pushed them along.

“Felicity has lied to us.” Val seemed stricken.

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t know until I went to the doctor.” Felicity defended herself.

“Sure. You said you were allergic to flour!” Val’s face turned crimson.

“Val, put yourself in her shoes,” Tootie counseled.

“I’d rather not.” Val crossed her arms across her chest, then noticed that Dragon was observing every move.

Felicity finally said, in a calm voice, “I’m pregnant.”

Shaker stood up and offered Felicity his chair. That surprised her, for she hadn’t thought through all the consequences of her condition.

Betty, motherly, put her arm around Felicity’s shoulders.

Sister also stood, put her arm around Tootie, and pulled Val to her for a hug. Then she gave Felicity a big hug. “Everything will be fine.”

Sister burst into tears not because of Felicity’s news, not because of yesterday’s drama, but because deception, truth, death, and life were happening all at the same time. It was exactly as it should be.

SOME USEFUL TERMS

Away
—A fox has “gone away” when he has left the covert. Hounds are “away” when they have left the covert on the line of the fox.

Brush
—The fox’s tail.

Burning scent
—Scent so strong or hot that hounds pursue the line without hesitation.

Bye day—
A day not regularly on the fixture card.

Cap—
The fee nonmembers pay to a hunt for that day’s sport.

Carry a good head—
When hounds run well together to a good scent, a scent spread wide enough for the whole pack to feel it.

Carry a line—
When hounds follow the scent. This is also called “working a line.”

Cast—
Hounds spread out in search of scent. They may cast themselves or be cast by the huntsman.

Charlie—
A term for a fox. A fox may also be called Reynard.

Check—
When hounds lose the scent and stop. The field must wait quietly while the hounds search for the scent.

Colors—
A distinguishing color—usually worn on the collar but sometimes on the facings of a coat—that identifies a hunt. Colors can be awarded only by the master and can be won only in the field.

Couple straps—
Two-strap hound collars connected by a swivel link. Some members of staff will carry these on the right rear of the saddle. Since the days of the pharoahs in ancient Egypt hounds have been brought to the meets coupled. Hounds are always spoken of and counted in couples. Today hounds walk or are driven to the meets. Rarely, if ever, are they coupled, but a whipper-in still carries couple straps should a hound need assistance.

Covert—
A patch of woods or bushes were a fox might hide. Pronounced
cover.

Cry—
How one hound tells another what is happening. The sound will differ according to the various stages of the chase. It’s also called “giving tongue” and should occur when a hound is working a line.

Cub hunting—
The informal hunting of young foxes in the late summer and early fall, before formal hunting. The main purpose is to enter young hounds into the pack. Until recently only the most knowledgeable members were invited to cub hunt, since they would not interfere with young hounds.

Dog fox—
The male fox.

Dog hound—
The male hound.

Double—
A series of short, sharp notes blown on the horn to alert all that a fox is afoot. The “gone away” series of notes is a form of doubling the horn.

Draft—
To acquire hounds from another hunt is to accept a draft.

Draw—
The plan by which a fox is hunted or searched for in a certain area, like a covert.

Drive—
The desire to push the fox, to get up with the line. It’s a very desirable trait in hounds, so long as they remain obedient.

Dwell—
To hunt without getting forward. A hound who dwells is a bit of a putterer.

Enter—
Hounds are entered into the pack when they first hunt, usually during cubbing season.

Field—
The group of people riding to hounds, exclusive of the master and hunt stuff.

Field master—
The person appointed by the master to control the field. Often it is the master him- or herself.

Fixture—
A card sent to all dues-paying members, stating when and where the hounds will meet. A fixture card properly received is an invitation to hunt. This means the card would be mailed or handed to a member by the master.

Gone away—
The call on the horn when the fox leaves the covert.

Gone to ground—
A fox who has ducked into his den or some other refuge has gone to ground.

Good night
—The traditional farewell to the master after the hunt, regardless of the time of day.

Gyp
—Another term for a female hound.

Hilltopper
—A rider who follows the hunt but does not jump. Hilltoppers are also called the “second field.” The jumpers are called the “first flight.”

Hoick
—The huntsman’s cheer to the hounds. It is derived from the Latin
hic haec hoc,
which means “here.”

Hold hard
—To stop immediately.

Huntsman
—The person in charge of the hounds in the field and in the kennel.

Kennelman
—A hunt staff member who feeds the hounds and cleans the kennels. In wealthy hunts there may be a number of kennelmen. In hunts with a modest budget, the huntsman or even the master cleans the kennels and feeds the hounds.

Lark
—To jump fences unnecessarily when hounds aren’t running. Masters frown on this, since it is often an invitation to an accident.

Lift
—To take the hounds from a lost scent in the hopes of finding a better scent farther on.

Line
—The scent trail of the fox.

Livery
—The uniform worn by the professional members of the hunt staff. Usually it is scarlet, but blue, yellow, brown, and gray are also used. The recent dominance of scarlet has to do with people buying coats off the rack as opposed to having tailors cut them. (When anything is mass-produced, the choices usually dwindle, and such is the case with livery.)

Mask
—The fox’s head.

Meet
—The site where the day’s hunting begins.

MFH
—The master of foxhounds; the individual in charge of the hunt: hiring, firing, landowner relations, opening territory (in large hunts this is the job of the hunt secretary), developing the pack of hounds, determining the first cast of each meet. As in any leadership position, the master is also the lightning rod for criticism. The master may hunt the hounds, although this is usually done by a professional huntsman, who is also responsible for the hounds in the field and at the kennels. A long relationship between a master and a huntsman allows the hunt to develop and grow.

Nose
—The scenting ability of a hound.

Override
—To press hounds too closely.

Overrun
—When hounds shoot past the line of scent. Often the scent has been diverted or foiled by a clever fox.

Ratcatcher
—The informal dress worn during cubbing season and bye days.

Stern
—A hound’s tail.

Stiff-necked fox
—One who runs in a straight line.

Strike hounds
—Those hounds who through keenness, nose, and often higher intelligence find the scent first and press it.

Tail hounds
—Those hounds running at the rear of the pack. This is not necessarily because they aren’t keen; they may be older hounds.

Tally-ho
—The cheer when the fox is viewed. Derived from the Norman
ty a hillaut,
thus coming into the English language in 1066.

Tongue
—To vocally pursue the fox.

View halloo (Halloa)
—The cry given by a staff member who views a fox. Staff may also say “tally-ho” or “tally-back” should the fox turn back. One reason a different cry may be used by staff, especially in territory where the huntsman can’t see the staff, is that the field in their enthusiasm may cheer something other than a fox.

Vixen
—The female fox.

Walk
—Puppies are “walked out” in the summer and fall of their first year. It’s part of their education and a delight for puppies and staff.

Whippers-in
—Also called whips, these are the staff members who assist the huntsman, who make sure the hounds “do right.”