48 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



the Quorn came to Ashby Pastures on Thursday (Oct. 20). 

 Cold frosty nights have bidden the comet welcome ; but, even 

 with the help of snow and rain, have done little to crush the 

 grass in the ditches or the leaf on the thorn. The excessive 

 blindness of the country becomes more apparent every time one 

 rides — and is certainly brought more full}' home by every 

 cropper that falls to one's share. Old horses are apt to be 

 "too clever by half;" young ones are rash and careless when 

 they think there is little to jump — and yet, we who steer them, 

 obeying an instinct that grows more powerful year by year, 

 invariably ride for the weakest — now the most dangerous — 

 part of the fence. A large majority of our erst companions 

 would seem to solve the difficulty by staying at home or 

 staying away. But if they wait till the fences are as they, and 

 we, could wish them, they will remain away till Christmas, so 

 abnormal and overwhelming has been the growth of grass and 

 weed and bramble during the summer past. Ample opportunity 

 was given us to-day of verifying this, as we scrambled through 

 a little gallop from Ashby Pastures. The hounds had been 

 nearly an hour behind time (a van having to be employed in 

 conveying them through the flood near the Kennels) ; and then 

 they had toiled hard amid the tangled undergrowth of The 

 Pastures for nearly two hours more — foxes in all directions, but 

 scent never sufficient for five minutes' strong pressure. The 

 field meanwhile sunned themselves in the road ; or in a few 

 instances plunged and floundered about the wet rides, till their 

 horses had done nearly a day's work. But when at length a 

 start was achieved, the muddy ones had the best chance of 

 seeing the ball rolling — as it did rather cheerily for the first 

 dozen minutes. From the Pastures to Kirby Village was the 

 line — a straight and pretty one of some twenty minutes in all. 

 The hedges were mostly weak and low ; and grass, growing- 

 through the thorn and on either bank of the ditch, left the 

 diameter so vague and incomprehensible that one's only prayer 

 was that the beast bestridden would take off well before he 

 reached the fence apparent and then jump as far as he could. 



