156 ECHOES OF SPORT 



without my horse running away to get me 

 there, and an Arcachon brush hangs on the 

 wall beside the Roman one. We had a long 

 eighteen kilometre ride home, but Sultan 

 and I were too pleased with ourselves and 

 each other to care. I had gone to the meet 

 with some other English people, and we found 

 our carriage at the Kennels. This was the 

 usual rendezvous at the end of the day, where 

 we had strange meals at a charming auberge, 

 waited on by a smiling damsel Marie, who fed 

 us on omelettes, oysters, shrimps, white wine 

 and coffee, but all comes as grist to a hunting 

 mill. 



On days when there was no regular hunting, 

 some daring amateurs would sometimes de- 

 vise an impromptu chasse. Two young 

 Frenchmen constituted themselves Mattres 

 d? Equipages, and the hounds were the street 

 dogs of a neighbouring village. Pointers, 

 poodles, Dalmatians, retrievers, terriers, and 

 crosses between these and foxhounds, formed 

 the pack. The inevitable horn was present, 

 of course ; and with such a crew a certain 



