HUNTING 137 



who were in them, I cannot forbear giving 

 this one. 



We had been hunting a fine buck in the 

 woodland for over an hour. Pouring rain, 

 water above and below ; the rides were sore, 

 deep going. Back and forwards we galloped 

 and splashed, covered with mud and water 

 from head to foot, now checking and cast- 

 ing, then on again, round and round, up and 

 down the rides, or cutting through trees and 

 bracken for greater haste. Guided often by 

 the sound of the horn, or listening in silence as 

 they checked, then almost deafened by holloa 

 and horn and hound, as once more they were 

 hot on their quarry. Plenty opportunity was 

 there here of watching hounds at work. Now 

 and again we had sight of him, a small brown 

 object, as he broke across a ride to disappear 

 into a maze of trees and brambles. At last 

 he was as sick of the woods as we, and took to 

 the open with all of us hard after him. We 

 three were well to the fore, thanks to her to 

 whom I owe all my hunting, and who is always 

 in the right place in the van ; in a few min- 



