CAPTAIN WARNER 119 



which I never saw before or since. Sometime 

 during the morning we were hunting a very bad 

 fox — probably a recent importation — and whilst 

 hounds were running up the hedgerow on one side of 

 a field he was going the opposite way on the other 

 side. The distance across was well over two hun- 

 dred yards, and yet, when the pack got the fox's 

 wind, they swung round and raced across the field 

 as if he were in view, though it was impossible for 

 them to have seen him. It was a rough ploughed 

 field alongside of the Fosse road, and not very far 

 from Widmerpool New Inn. 



This exceptional scenting day was very near 

 being wasted on trivial things, a fox chopped in one 

 covert, several others blank, and the moderate 

 specimen referred to above. The last chance of 

 the day was Mr. J. D. Cradock's celebrated covert 

 Walton Thorns, and the master had announced 

 should this be blank no other covert would be 

 drawn. I think we all realized there was a great 

 scent, and it was an anxious moment waiting whilst 

 Firr disappeared in the ride — it was about ten to 

 one against finding, as hounds had been there the 

 previous week. 



Let me quote from my Field notes : " The day 

 was far spent, there had been no run, and the 

 shadow of despair was gradually settling upon 

 us. . . . 



"These are anxious moments as we wait and 

 listen for a sound that will raise us from the depths 

 of despair to the heights of bliss. Nearly the 

 whole covert has been drawn and we relapse into 

 sorrow, when all of a sudden there is a shrill tally- 

 ho ! from Firr that fills our souls with joy. Some- 



