210 VARIETY IN HUNTING COUNTRIES 



whose lot it is to pursue the fox over " the cream of 

 Leicestershire," have better fun for their money than 

 those who take their pastime in what are disparagingly- 

 termed " rough countries." At first sight, it would 

 appear that comparison must be absurd, and the notion 

 of contrasting the pleasure enjoyed by the equestrian 

 mounted on the ideal steed for the flying countries and 

 careering over "oceans of grass," with the scrambling 

 mode of progression familiar to the sportsman in a 

 rough country on a nag that the other could " gallop 

 rings round " seems too ludicrous for words. And yet 

 when I wrote of " fun " just now, I confess that 

 doubts began to assail. Simply from the rider's point 

 of view, of course, there can be no question about the 

 matter when all goes well, when hounds are not over- 

 ridden at the start, when no railway intervenes just 

 as they have begun to shake off the crowd, when no 

 fresh fox jumps to save the life of the hunted one, 

 when no wire crops up to cause disaster and delay. 

 But such things do happen, and happen pretty fre- 

 quently, too — so frequently, in fact, that I find some 

 of my friends beginning to sigh for a little wilder 

 and less conventional sport. 



My recollections of a run in a rough country some 

 years ago may perhaps serve to raise a smile. What, I 

 wonder, did the "swoU" from the grass of the English 

 Midlands — for one was out that day — think in his 

 heart of hearts of the quaint scene at the cross-roads 

 where we met? Ten individuals on horseback all told, 

 waiting for the hounds in as bleak a spot as you shall 

 find in Southern Ireland ; a group of country folk 

 round them and a single side-car with two ladies on 



