THE BRAUNSTON G ALLOT OF THE PYTCHLEY. 309 



two luckless others on the right flank, had already become 

 involved in the brook — " fallen," like Ossian's Fillan, " in the 

 first of their fields ; fallen without renown." Aye, and able 

 warriors, too. 



Now hounds ran the nearer bank for half a mile, then crossed 

 it where it might be jumped, and was freely jumped — they who 

 already found themselves on the safer side crying cheerily as 

 they galloped by, " All right, will do capitally." To do is a 

 word of elastic meaning. (In the Tommiebeg Shootings, the 

 noun factor is credited to the verb facio.) The brook, at all 

 events, did for many. How the huntsman extricated himself, 

 and was among the first at the finish, must remain a marvel for 

 all time. And, 



"Where were ye, sweet nymphs, when the relentless deep 

 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? " 



On the Flecknoe bank things went gaily, soon furiously. 

 Hounds warmed to their work more hotly in every field ; the 

 fences were honest stake-and-bound, but for a while in such 

 close succession that the instant of landing over each was also 

 the moment for marking the next. Mr. Adamthwaite (who 

 may fairly be stated to have held a better place than anyone, 

 the run throughout) was pilot at this period, the running being 

 shortly taken up by Messrs. Gordon-Cunard and Foster — and 

 the two could be seen taking the strong fences side by side, as 

 if the course were flagged. In the full swing of pace and 

 excitement, and when already half way to Shuckburgh, their 

 path was crossed and their progress checked, by a double that 

 would have stopped an elephant and might have frightened 

 even a Christ Church undergrad. High as a barrack-room, 

 dense as a wall, there was no possibility of getting in, much less 

 a probability of getting out of, such a rampart of thorn ; and 

 the party, now joined by Major Cosmo Little, by Mr. Sheriffe, 

 and by Capt. Pender on his grey, pulled up for the moment in 

 blank despair. The two latter worked off to the right, and, I 

 fancy, hit off an eventual opening. Mr. Cunard took his 



