138 ECHOES OF SPORT 



utes we found ourselves close on the leading 

 hounds, with only two men near us, streaming 

 over that wild moorland with its heather and 

 gorse, its hidden holes and pitfalls, as if it were 

 the cream of a grass country. The wind and 

 rain cut one slantways, the blood coursed in 

 one's veins, every nerve and sense at concert 

 pitch with the quick rush through the moor's 

 air, that mounts to the head like wine. The 

 horses felt it too. Nimble as cats over the 

 rough bits, well into their bridles, stretching 

 themselves out in the smoother places, they 

 too loved it with us, and did their level best. 

 For over three miles of moorland we galloped, 

 till again the buck sought shelter in a belt of 

 pines ; but not before one of us tasted some- 

 thing of the danger salt. As in the days of 

 Rufus, trees can still bring to harm, especi- 

 ally if galloping between two narrow ones a 

 horse turns by a hair's-breadth and one's 

 right foot is caught and turned smack round. 

 Such was the end of my ride, but no bones 

 were broke, and though it crippled me for 

 many weeks to come, one must pay toll some- 



