THE WARWICKSHIRE. 305 



one hour from breaking covert). Mr. Goodman, the second 

 whip, and some one other had met them on their return journey 

 — which was at a pace within horses' compass. Their upwind 

 flight was far beyond it, as had been too plainly proved. A 

 holloa at length enabled them to be carried on. They hunted 

 then readily to ground close to the village; and a terrier evicted 

 an immense fine fox, too tired to make use of the law they gave 

 him. 



Then, the afternoon run was a delightful event — and more 

 appreciable because amenable. His Lordship again drew Shuck- 

 burgh ; and from the laurels behind the house dislodged another 

 ready traveller. Nobody, apparently, expected a find — this 

 being the only portion of the Hill left undrawn in the fore- 

 noou : and nobody could possibly tell in which direction hounds 

 might be breaking. In course of time we made out they had 

 started for Flecknoe ; and they favoured us (in consideration 

 possibly of the hard treatment of the morning) by flinging back 

 across the turnpike that we were so blindly clattering. This 

 bend put their heads direct for Catesby ; and thither they held 

 them for the next fifteen minutes to reach the coombe of Dane 

 Hole. Over the same description of glorious turf as in the 

 former run, they travelled almost equally fast. A small brook 

 crossed the line after about five minutes — a second, none too 

 awful from the point of measurement, but very brimming with 

 water and presently with men, immediately afterwards offered 

 itself. It is only the Catesby stream, eventually the Braunston 

 Brook. But snow water, when every furrow is splashing with 

 it, is very enticing foothold to a fat and careless hunter. Well, 

 the air was warm now, if the water was cold. The half gale of 

 last night had moderated to a pleasant breeze — and the warm 

 wet earth carried a rattling scent. Dane Hole has from this 

 side an approach of two ploughed fields : and we are old enough 

 to know that a good March fox is not likely to hang long in so 

 small a place, with Badby Wood only a couple of miles away. 

 So there were various half-blown horses recovering their wind 

 on the road above, during the moments between the forward- 



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