60 The Hunting Field With Horse and Hound 



Think of a man at Uncle Abner's age going fox hunting in 

 the morning and then bird shooting in the afternoon, just be- 

 cause Liver and Bacon had seen the guns and would be miser- 

 able! 



The writer has spent many delightful evenings with genu- 

 ine sportsmen, talking horse and gun and hounds, but the night 

 among them all that his memory loves best to recall is the one 

 spent with Uncle Abner, that American gentleman, farmer 

 and fine sportsman. 



We were up bright and early the next morning. The 

 hounds loaded into a crate on a democrat wagon, a basket heavy 

 with luncheon at our feet, the guns leaning against the seat be- 

 tween us — and we are ready. Liver and Bacon, meanwhile, 

 were racing about and jumping at the old mare's head in their 

 eagerness to see her start. 



Uncle Abner explained on the way that we would drive to 

 Lebago lake, about two miles, leave the old mare and the 

 pointers at a livery, take a sail boat and cross the lake to an up- 

 land forest where there are plenty of foxes, and where there 

 was little or no underbrush to obstruct the view, for as pre- 

 viously stated, we were to station ourselves at certain points 

 while the hounds were expected to "jump" their fox in the bot- 

 tom lands near the lake and drive them within reach of our 

 guns. The programme was to try the hounds for foxes during 

 the forenoon, and return to give Liver and Bacon some fun 

 after birds, in some big stubble fields, near the livery stable, 

 after lunch; for by that time it would be too dry to "trail" 

 foxes any more for the day. Hounds were put "in coupUng 

 irons" and then in leash and went dragging Nelson, Uncle 

 Abner's man, to the wharf. 



Fastening the hounds in the boat house, Nelson pulled the 

 writer and Uncle Abner out to where the "Daisy" lay nodding 

 to her anchor buoy. He left us on board to make sail while he 

 returned to the boat house for the hounds, which were quite 



