CHAPTEE XIII. 



HUNTING IN DEVON AND SOMEESET. 



EE winter comes to rule the varied 

 year," for the moors and hill tops are 

 covered with snow. The time for 

 hunting the wild stag is past. Cub 

 hunting is finished, the serious business of the sea- 

 son has commenced, and lovers of the noble pastime 

 may rest assured that the prospects of sport are 

 excellent ; that foxes, hares, and hinds abound ; and 

 they may depend, if they will travel thus far, taking 

 up their quarters either at the Lion Hotel in Dul- 

 verton, or the White Horse at Exford, on finding 

 capital quarters, can be excellently mounted, hunt 

 every day either hind, hare, or fox, and mix with 

 the most genial, pleasant, and hospitable people that 

 can be imagined. It is not your feather-bed sports- 

 man, who is afraid to scratch his leathers and boots 

 and desires merely a twenty-five minutes' spin across 

 the grass that I address. No, it is the man who 

 loves the science of hunting, desires to see hounds 

 work, and is not afraid to ride over hill and dale, 

 moorland and meadow, and brawling brooks, through 

 dense woods, or lovely combes, which are the features 

 of the beautiful counties of Devon and Somerset, 



