OLD FRIENDS— MEN AND HORSES 211 



pack were streaming away downhill and putting 

 on the pace. I managed to get first cut at the 

 brook, which my young Irishman flew in his stride. 

 There is always a certain amount of satisfaction in 

 jumping open water, however small ; but the 

 pleasure is considerably enhanced by getting over 

 first. 



The railway gates at the level-crossing were 

 flung open by plate-layers who had seen us coming, 

 and we sailed on uphill to the Scalford road. 



My young horse had carried me so satisfactorily 

 up to this point, that it was with the utmost con- 

 fidence I launched him at a foot-stile, both high 

 and stiff. Timber in any shape or form must 

 have been unknown in that part of Ireland respon- 

 sible for his education, as he appeared to think it 

 was a species of fence he could brush through, I 

 hit the ground somewhat heavily ; but he had such 

 extraordinary good shoulders that he only came 

 on his head, and in a lightning-like recovery put a 

 foot through my top-hat. There was a smaller 

 stile into the road, but the first one had taught 

 him a lesson which he never forgot during his 

 sixteen seasons in Leicestershire. 



There was a slight check in the road, and then 

 hounds settled down again to run hard. The 

 Nottingham turnpike was crossed near Sysonby, 

 and from there we went straight on to Welby, 

 where, I think, the fox was headed, as he bore 

 right-handed for a field in the direction of Ab- 

 Kettleby before resuming his original course. 



Hounds at this time were running on con- 

 tinuously and running fast, though not racing. 

 I cannot now recall every field we went into, but 



