6.13
registering a vow to Apollo and Artemis the Huntress to give them a share of the spoil, let him loose one hound, the cleverest at following a track, at sunrise in winter, before dawn in summer, and some time between at other seasons.
6.14
As soon as the hound picks up a line from the network of tracks that leads straight ahead, let him slip another. If the track goes on, let him set the others going one by one at short intervals, and follow without pressing them, accosting each by name, but not often, that they may not get excited too soon.
6.15
They will go forward full of joy and ardour, disentangling the various tracks, double or triple—springing forward now beside, now across the same ones—tracks interlaced or circular, straight or crooked, close or scattered, clear or obscure, running past one another with tails wagging, ears dropped and eyes flashing.
6.16
As soon as they are near the hare they will let the huntsman know by the quivering of the whole body as well as the tail, by making fierce rushes, by racing past one another, by scampering along together persistently, massing quickly, breaking up and again rushing forward. At length they will reach the hare’s form and will go for her.
6.17
She will start up suddenly, and will leave the hounds barking and baying behind her as she makes off. Let the huntsman shout at her as she runs, Now, hounds, now! Well done! Bravo, hounds! Well done, hounds! Wrapping his cloak round his arm and seizing his cudgel he must follow up behind the hare and not try to head her off, since that is useless.
6.18
The hare, making off, though out of sight, generally doubles back to the place where she is found. Let him call outi.e., at the moment when the hare, making for the place where she was found, comes near the nets. Something is amiss with the text here. The man is, of course, the net-keeper. He, too, has a cudgel, but the author has not said so. to the man, Hit her, boy; hit her, hit her! and the man must let him know whether she is caught or not.