78 THE IMAGE OF WAE 



horn to younger hands, I dare say it would even 

 now be somewhat dangerous for Mr R. D. Blackmore 

 to show his face in the domains of the last Squire 

 of Oare. 



Besides the natives there is a sprinkling of regular 

 visitors, who never miss their annual stag-hunting 

 on Exmoor, and some whom chance has brought 

 there. 



After hospitable entertainment a move is made, the 

 first draw beinof a covert known as Cornham Brake. 

 Here there was at least one fox, for hounds, by head- 

 inof first towards Duredon and then turninp" short 

 back, managed to throw out the bulk of the field, who 

 never saw them again. Grexy Ball, I am told, is the 

 name of the first ridge we top, and then we find our- 

 selves on the well-known Moles' Chamber, one of the 

 wettest and highest parts of the moor. Very bleak 

 and barren the short grass is here, too. We are 

 riding over treacherous ground indeed, intersected 

 as it is with small grips and drains. Several coats 

 are mud-plastered already, and there are a few rider- 

 less horses about. A bad job for their riders this, for 

 a horse lost on the moor is no joke, but the pace is too 

 good to afibrd assistance. Hounds have been running 

 very fast all this time, and when we emerge on Bray 

 Common our fox seems to have had enough, for with- 

 out apparent reason he turns short back and retraces 

 his steps for Grexy Ball, hounds running harder than 

 ever. Here he finds temporary shelter in a rabbit- 

 hole, very few of the original field being up at the 

 " Who-whoop ! " after this capital fifty-five minutes 

 gallop. 



While we lead our smoking steeds about, Reynard 



