84 MEMORIES OF THE SHIRES 



grief is general ; loose horses are careering every- 

 where, and the cracking of timber is heard on all 

 sides. A field of plough, over which hounds skim 

 and horses flounder, is quickly left behind, and then 

 we turn to the left and gallop down the road for 

 Hose. Skirting the village the pace increases, the 

 fun becoming fast and furious. In and out of a lane, 

 some quick, recurring fences and an ugly bottom 

 bars the way. One division is wide on the right, 

 and hit the bottom, where a friendly bridge solves 

 the difficulty. A hatless horseman is to be seen 

 with a clear lead of his followers, cutting out the 

 work in the rear of the pack, and an army of * top- 

 sawyers ' come crashing on behind him. Hold hard, 

 gentlemen 1 Hounds are at fault, and here we are 

 at Hose Gorse twenty minutes from the find." 



Gillard was, of course, at that time huntsman to 

 the Belvoir, and continued to carry the horn for 

 another twelve seasons. RecalHng this run to 

 memory brings back to me Gillard's reply to my 

 remark whilst I was ridingj alongside of him, '* A 

 good enough scent to-day, Frank." His answer was, 

 " Oh, not too good, but the Belvoir hounds make 

 their scent," which meant they had the nose and 

 drive to make the most of what scent there was. 

 This was rather characteristic of the man, for he 

 loved his pack, and had a great belief in them. I 

 do not think any man ever worked harder or lived 

 a more strenuous life, for at that period he was 

 hunting hounds five and six days, had the whole 

 kennel management in his hands, and in addition 

 was doing work usually performed by a hunt 

 secretary. Sometimes he had very long distances 

 to ride home, but however late he might be, he 



