4S8 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



another tried sportsman who has had experience of many 

 countries. 



What an absolutely perfect day for sport and for pleasurable 

 riding was Saturday, I can testify from the breath of its balmy 

 quiet — as I sat for five minutes on Weedon platform (when 

 carting my damaged limb Londonwards), and they told me of 

 the great meet that had just taken place. 



Knightley Wood is but a stone's throw (well, a quarter of a 

 mile) to the south of Mantel's Heath (a similar wood) : and 

 Knightley Wood had been entered from the east as if to keep 

 Reynard within Pytchley dominion. How far it succeeded you 

 will see. Past Mantel's Heath runs a road east and west, 

 Stowe-to-Preston ; and this was blocked with equipages and 

 loiterers. Thus Reynard lost, I should imagine, several minutes 

 in breaking through ; for he touched Mantel's Heath, then had 

 to make a short detour towards Everdon Stubbs before sinking 

 the valley of the Everdon Brook and getting his mask in the 

 required direction (westward or leftward). And if the tempo- 

 rary difficulty hindered him — how much more it would seem 

 to have hindered the bulk of the great field of the day ! Most 

 of them wavered in the road ; many went down it towards 

 Everdon Stubbs (the map will be of service to you now) — while 

 hounds were wheeling beneath them, and their confusion was 

 already assured. Instinct, knowledge of country, or the luckier 

 fortune of war, however, induced Mr. Craven and Mr. Walton 

 to turn in above Hen Wood and dash down the slope for 

 Snorscombe Farm — there to strike the bridle road for the 

 Fawsley home estate, and soon to cut in with the pack on its 

 flying course thither. Meanwhile Lord Annaly, Mr. Byass, 

 Major Little, Mr. Wroughton, the younger, Mr. Craven, and 

 about a dozen others had followed Goodall and John in the 

 track of hounds : and turned with them below the brow. Even 

 aided by ready and sufficient gates, and with the turf riding- 

 like velvet on springs, riders could scarcely gallop fast enough 

 to keep with hounds across these great feeding-pastures, as 

 they swept by Hoggstaff Wood and went with a curve to the 



