HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 17 



but it is only for a moment, as a good hound hits 

 it off, carries it down the macadam for a hundred 

 yards or so, and then shows the Une where all 

 the pack can own to it joyously across the 

 fallows. A field from Vange Gorse the hounds 

 are at fault again. " Hold hard now, or you will 

 press them over the scent !" Not a moment too 

 soon has that caution come. The old hound 

 swings round again and begins to flourish down 

 a hedgerow. Not waiting for a whimper, the 

 Master at one point and Mr. Horton at another, 

 gives us a lead over a thick thorn fence, that 

 hides rotten banks and a treacherous ditch 

 beyond. There have been dirty coats enough 

 already, but nobody stops now to see whether 

 the number is swelled by other downfalls. 

 Bearing left over the road once more, our 

 hunted fox speeds on, twisting like a hare, and 

 evidently hard pressed, until within one field 

 of the Crown at Laindon Hill. Into a little 

 shaw close by some farm buildings the hounds 

 carry it with acrash of music ; but suddenly their 

 chorus ceases. Quickly they are got to the 

 sound of Mr. White's horn, and held on for a 

 cast towards Coombe Wood ; but it proves 

 useless, and, being brought back, the hounds 

 tell us where our fox has sneaked along a wet 

 drain, until, happening on the track by which 

 he came, he has retraced his footsteps towards 

 Vange. Over the plough of many fields, and 

 only owing to the line at intervals, the hounds 

 follow slowly, hunting up to Vange Gorse ; but 

 the red rascal has too great a start now, and 

 nothing more can be made of it. Twenty 



