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 hunters still waiting for him. Each time he made the circle the pack closed up the distance between him and it. The snow was wet and heavy, and finally Redcoat's beautiful brush dragged in the snow behind him, as he was so tired that he could no longer hold it up. Neither did he now run with the free gallop that he had assumed at the start. His pace had now slowed down to a dog trot.

On the fifth lap of this weary race, which was now telling upon Redcoat and taking his utmost strength, he entered a small woods of pines which was about a quarter of a mile in length, and perhaps twenty rods wide with the further end resting on the bank of the river. Redcoat ran along the south side of the woods, keeping just inside the cover. His plan was to come back on the north side, doubling back on himself, but keeping out of sight. In this way he would get a half mile run in the cover and here he hoped to gain on the pack. But unluckily, when he was doubling back, one of the hounds in the pack happened to spy him