The Hunt Ball Read Online Free PDF Page A

even better, the pricker bushes and rambling old tea roses would keep out the nosy.
    The hands that cut and placed the stone vanished from the earth in 1787. The small house was eventually abandoned as the next generation prospered to build the first section of Roughneck Farm, the simple but large, graceful house that Sister and her husband, Raymond, bought when young marrieds. It had a roof and walls but the staircases had collapsed. It was a ruin. Together they restored the place, doing much of the work themselves. In good time, Raymond began to make a lot of money. By the time they reached their mid-thirties they could pay for any repairs or improvements.
    While Sister knew of this old, well-built foundation, she never cleared it. She recognized a splendid site for a den as well as Comet. She wanted Roughneck Farm to appeal to foxes the way Murray Hill appeals to a certain kind of Manhattan resident.
    Comet carried in more sweetgrass and suddenly dropped to his belly, hearing a light flutter of mighty wings. These wings were silent until it was too late.
    A pair of huge balled-up talons raked his back.
    He snarled, then bolted for the main entrance. He heard a large bird walking around the opening to his den and cursed that he hadn’t time to dig out more exits.
    â€œOh, come on out, you big chicken,”
a deep voice chortled.
    â€œAthena.”
He popped his head out as the two-foot great horned owl turned her head nearly upside down to stare at him.
    â€œScared you,”
she laughed again.
    â€œNah, I wanted to make you feel good,”
he lied.
    She blinked, her large golden eyes both beautiful and hypnotizing.
“You are too clever by half. Take care, Comet, that you don’t come to a bad end. You put me in mind of Dragon, that arrogant hound. He’s another one who pays no heed to good sense.”
    Comet emerged from his den. Arguing with Athena could bring reprisals. She wasn’t just the queen of the night, she was the queen, period, but her authority irritated him. On the other hand, foxes and owls were allies and it was best not to disturb the equilibrium.
    â€œIsn’t death always a bad end?”
    â€œNo.”
She unruffled her feathers, the sunlight warming her.
    â€œH-m-m. I don’t want to go anytime soon.”
    â€œWho does unless they’re suffering?”
She paused, turned her head around almost backward to behold Bitsy, the screech owl, flying toward them.
“God, I hope she isn’t going to sing to us.”
    Bitsy lived in Sister’s barn. A little thing, but her voice could wake the dead. She so wanted to be like the great horned owl whose voice, sonorous and low, filled the forests and meadows with melancholy beauty.
    As hunting had been good for all the prey animals, they lingered in the soft early-morning light before retiring to their nests and dens. The foxes, on such a warming autumn day, would find flat rocks on which to sunbathe.
    â€œGuess what?”
Bitsy also lived for gossip.
    â€œWhat?”
Comet humored her.
    â€œYou scared the bejabbers out of those Custis Hall girls. I heard them talking at the tailgate.”
    â€œThis pipsqueak scared them?”
Athena asked, which thrilled the screech owl, who felt she had important information.
    â€œThey were separated from the others, wandering about in the mist. Comet popped out right in front of them, uttered a few unkind words, and took off. It’s a pity humans have such poor senses. Those girls, when they first took the wrong turn, couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards from the other humans, yet they couldn’t smell horse or human. They rode left, everyone else rode right. It’s a wonder humans have survived.”
    â€œHerd animals. They can’t survive without one another,”
Comet astutely noted.
    â€œThat doesn’t explain their inability to smell. What’s the difference if there’s one human or one thousand? They still