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miles as the crow flies. He would take his hounds into 

 Cornwall for two fortnights' hunting in the season, and 

 so great was his fame that when his meets were an- 

 nounced the whole country-side kept holiday, no farmer 

 who had a horse or a pony failed to be present, labour 

 was almost entirely suspended, and even the women put 

 on their Sunday bonnets and shawls to go and see Parson 

 Russell find a fox. 



A memorable day was the i6th of February 1829, 

 when Russell found three foxes together in Deviock 

 Wood, near Bodmin, and killed all three before the sun 

 set on Brownwilly Tors. A brace broke covert at once, 

 going away side by side ; while the third stole off 

 without being viewed, and put his head straight for the 

 moor. Breaking on their very brushes, the pack stuck 

 to the former, pelting after them like a storm of hail ; 

 when, after a sharp burst, the foxes separated, and so did 

 the hounds : Russell sticking to one division and scream- 

 ing to his field to stop the other. Stop them, indeed ! 

 the moor was before them, the scent breast-high, and 

 the best horse that was ever foaled would fail to head 

 them now in their desperate onward course. Several of 

 the field tried to stop them ; but they never came up 

 even to a tail hound. What followed let one who was 

 there describe in his own glowing style : — 



' Nine hounds are running for blood, and although 

 Harris and Colonel Gilbert Raleigh, the future hero of 

 many a brilliant campaign in India, are riding like 

 madmen to stop them, their efforts are utterly vain. 

 Had Jove's winged messenger been there, the god 

 himself could not have stopped those nine merciless 

 hounds, as they sped like very demons in pursuit of 

 their prey. In thirty-five minutes the fox, bright as a 



