OYER THE BORDER 291 



corner, and away we went down to the cultivated 

 country, where the chase was attended by the cheer- 

 ful crackling sound of splintering timber which usually 

 accompanies a run in these parts. Hounds ran fast 

 and well, pointing for the largest town in this district, 

 but short of this some intricate fences let us into the 

 grounds of a small house, in whose shrubberies an 

 obviously beaten fox was running short. In another 

 minute it was whoo- whoop ! The run had taken 

 seven-and-thirty minutes, of which the odd ones may 

 be knocked off for alarms and excursions between the 

 two coverts before we were fairly off. 



On the whole an enjoyable day, and one to me 

 certainly worth the hat which a cropper over a heave- 

 gate rendered a negligible quantity, as the French 

 say. 



A third fox gave a less satisfactory gallop, for the 

 line of country he took was a poor one ; and, finally, 

 putting up a fresh companion, he divided the pack 

 and saved his bacon. 



As a rule, the country is one less noteworthy for 

 fast, short gallops like this than for longer but 

 equally satisfactory runs. I think I am not libelling 

 it by calling it not a first-class scenting district. The 

 foxes are good and strong, and the country well 

 stopped, so they have to travel some way to safety, 

 and they do. Blank days are unknown, and few 

 days would earn the reprobation of Mr Jorrocks, to 

 whom a day without blood was no day. 



A hunting man of a roving turn of mind might dis- 

 tinctly do worse than have a season in Scotland, and 

 I, for one, have brought away pleasant recollections of 

 a sort that make me hope that I may some day revisit 

 its happy hunting-grounds. 



