HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 49 



One gloriously fine hot day in the spring — 

 just the weather one would select for a point to 

 point meeting, or even a horse show, or, more 

 appropriate a picnic — but not at all calculated 

 to inspire the ardent sportsman with the slightest 

 hope of the chance of a run, let alone a scent — 

 when hounds met in the middle of March at 

 Nevendon, being near the end of the season, 

 there was a fairly large field out. Suddenly, on 

 the far side of a high fence, in an uncultivated 

 field, there came the welcome holloa, and away 

 we raced with a burning scent. Dr. Marshall, 

 Mr. Gardiner, and all the men one would expect 

 to meet on such occasions were there, and they 

 had to ride. 



I very soon made the discovery that we 

 were in pursuit of no ordinary fox, and the scent 

 was of the strongest. A gallant sportsman 

 galloping down a field beside me said, " What a 

 scent there is ; yonder they go racing, and who 

 could have expected it in such brilliant sun- 

 shine ? "I looked at him, and saw that he was 

 quite unaware we were riding after a drag, and 

 so I left him in ignorance. I know how perfect- 

 ly miserable he would have been if the true state 

 of affairs had dawned on him, and he was 

 thoroughly enjoying himself. I feel sure Mr. 

 Carnegie knew the game, because after racing 

 for forty minutes and killing our fox in a ditch 

 near Fan Hall, as he was moving off to draw 

 Runwell, I asked him, " Any use going on } " 



" No, I think not ; there won't be such a 

 scent this afternoon." 



