VARIETY IN HUNTING COUNTRIES 211 



board, squeezed in close to the fence to get out of the 

 bitter wind. But, " Here come the hounds ! " their 

 Master with a single whipper-in in attendance, and 

 four or five more horsemen. There are fifteen couples, 

 not very evenly matched, you will say ; some very little 

 bitches, and one or two dog-hounds that dwarf them 

 considerably ; but the bitches are very smart and 

 shapely, small though they be, and, despite their un- 

 evenness, there is a varmint wear-and-tear look about 

 the pack which rather impresses one. The M.F.H. and 

 huntsman is impressive, too, in his way, and looks 

 like business. You augur well from his reception by 

 the country folk, with several of whom he is soon 

 in earnest, low-toned conversation, in the course of 

 which two more horsemen turn up. 



" Law enough," at last says the Master, and, turning 

 his horse, a procession, which consists of one lady and 

 twenty mounted men, moves off to the base of a high 

 and rocky hill. Banish from your thoughts, oh swell 

 from the Midlands ! all recollections of Cream Gorse 

 or Ashby Pasture, for "here we go up, up, up," 

 breasting at first the steep slope of the high conical 

 hill, with short, slippery grass under our horses' feet — 

 grass which changes all too soon to weird-looking 

 heather and patches of low-growing Irish furze. At 

 last, when our saddles are inclined to slip over our 

 horses' tails and the wind shrieks past our heads — 

 recumbent though they be on the necks of the steeds 

 — we reach the top (seven hundred feet high), and find 

 ourselves among strange boulders of red-coloured rock, 

 where wretched, stunted fir-trees struggle for existence 

 among great hummocks of coarse, yellow grass with 



