236 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



drawn much of the cork wood we found our first fox 

 in a marshy bottom. For about an hour they rattled 

 him about the woodlands at a fair hunting pace, till 

 they finally pulled him down in the nearest approach 

 to the open that one gets in that district, in the 

 presence of most of the field. This was quite a 

 pleasant run for the ladies and other easy-going 

 members of the hunt, for they were able to keep with 

 hounds all the way. 



A long draw followed ; but mile after mile of country 

 proved blank. A good many people had gone home 

 convinced that we had had our day's sport, when all 

 of a sudden I came over a ridge into a steep valley 

 just in time to see the sterns of the pack, which was 

 drawing the opposite brow, all go up together. I was 

 convinced it was a find though I had not heard a 

 sound, and sent old '* Jack-o'-Lantern" along as hard 

 as he could lay legs to the ground. 



I was right. When I reached the further ridge I 

 caught sight of the pack driving silently along the 

 side of a long hill at right angles to my course. I 

 bore to the left, and pressed on. For over twenty 

 minutes we ran so, hounds strung out along the 

 opposite hill, and the small field (for most were 

 slipped at the start) on this side of the valley. 



" There's an earth just on there," said the Master, 

 and I expected the end of our gallop, which had been 

 fast. But no, hounds pushed on harder than ever, 

 and we settled down to ride. Choosing one's own 

 line is not easy there, but in a quarter of an hour we 

 were pretty well scattered. I had a flying glimpse of 

 San Roque, lying far below to the right, which was 

 my only guide to our whereabouts. Meanwhile the 

 going got worse. I was following our first whip, 



