80 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



of an hour's gallop, but it was nearly a four-mile point, 

 and our horses are white with lather. 



The next draw is a covert near Hangershell, called 

 Dowse's Brake, and it is soon "Tally-ho away!" 

 again. He makes for Pyles — oh, horror ! — but fortu- 

 nately before getting there bears to the left, thus 

 bringing us into some very nasty complications of 

 walls and water. 



The great hill called Halldon Barrow lies before us 

 now, and just as we are congratulating ourselves on 

 the fox having skirted it, hounds turn up it and we 

 must follow. We emerge on Storr Moor, hounds far 

 in front and running very hard. At Yadsworthy 

 they leave the moor and enter the enclosures. Most 

 of the field stick to the moor, and we never see them 

 again. 



What a pace they go over these fields ! Here is 

 a river — no time to ask which. Through it we splash 

 and toil up to Harford village. As we clatter down 

 the village street we see hounds running just behind 

 the cottages. We sweep to the left at the church. 

 See ! the fox tops the wall and lands in the road as 

 the leading hounds reach the wall. At the opposite 

 wall his strength fails. Who-whoop ! Who-whoop ! 



We look round ; where is the huntsman ? Where 

 the field ? Echo answers, where ? Only four of us 

 saw the last half of that glorious thirty minutes. 

 Well, that countryman has a knife. The last honours 

 are performed, and the fox eaten ten minutes before 

 the field turn up. This year we shall be among the 

 very few who have seen a May fox killed. 



