THE BLUE COVERT BURST. 315 



Now you would lcavn of the Oxendon meet and its out- 

 come. I wish you joy of Waterloo and its immediate sur- 

 roundings — and I throw in the halo that clings to the im- 

 mortalised Gorse. Jim Mason's dictum that " the best man 

 and best horse ever foaled could not ride from Waterloo 

 Gorse to Market Harboro' with less than three falls " has 

 been my quotation before to-day. And the same measure is 

 more than fairly applicable to any three miles from the same 

 starting-point, given men and horses considerably below the 

 great man's requirements. Such is at all events my opinion 

 founded on recent personal experience. They contrive in this 

 special pasture-land to put width and strength enough into- 

 their oxers alone, to send us often a mile out of our way in 

 a run. But besides this, every valley is drained by water- 

 course, with timber and blackthorn in a conglomerate mass 

 to laugh at ambition and to scoff at the impertinence of 

 riding to hounds — the which is apropos only to the bj'play 

 of the early day. We may pass over the death of four foxes- 

 — victims of fat and fecundity. And now to Blue Covert, a 

 well-honoured centre spot in a wild grass country — the con- 

 ditions of to-day being a N.E. wind (very little of it), a warm 

 wet soil, and the lady pack fierce, intent, and undeniable, 

 with recent and constant success. 



" The leopard-fox," grey and black spotted, and unmistakable., 

 the hero of two previous escapes, went away of himself, just as 

 the sandwich box had been cased, the flask holstered, and 

 now only sport-hunger and thirst-for-a-ride remained. Parade 

 was formed in double line, as Goodall galloped hounds through 

 to the view. Walk, trot, canter, gallop — what an orderly corps 

 we are ! And how a double plough steadies us — till we get 

 a chance of riding in among a flock of ewes and lambs, and 

 of scattering them across the front of hounds ! We are all 

 cattle-riders here — not born, nor taught, but impelled. The 

 wondrous scent-power of the day was nowhere better instanced 

 in this good gallop than when the pack drove through the 

 bleating mob from hedge to hedge. And now we were on 



