66 NIM ROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 



Thursday, the 2oth. Met the Duke of Buccleuch's hounds at 

 the Hirsel. A very large field his Grace himself among the 

 crowd, to whom I had the honour of making my bow. We made 

 a bad start, mobbing and killing a fox in a large whin cover. 

 Found again, the hounds getting well away with him, and, cross- 

 ing the road just under my horse's nose. I got a good start on one 

 of King's horses. Luckily, however, for me we checked at the 

 end of six fields, for it was " bellows to mend" with my nag. But 

 of all the deep countries I ever rode across, none ever came up 

 to this. In fact it was perfectly rotten, and two or three of us 

 were nearly stuck fast in the middle of a loose gravelly turnip 

 field. The ditches, too, were after the order of double-bodied 

 graves, and very inviting to a blown horse. Mr. M'Kenzie Grieve, 

 indeed, contrived to get two falls in these six fields ; but when he 

 passed by me at the rate of twenty miles in the hour, in very deep 

 ground, I could not avoid exclaiming to him" ; Tis the pace 

 that kills." 



Our fox, it appeared, had turned short back into the cover, 

 where we soon got upon terms with him again ; and, taking fresh 

 ground, was well hunted for about an hour, saving himself by 

 getting into a drain. But he had a very narrow squeak for his 

 life, by an accident which I had never before witnessed to a fox. 

 He got entangled in a sheep-net in the middle of a large field, 

 which it is possible he never saw until he felt it. Those sheep- 

 nets are awkward things in a hunting country. In the course of 

 the Broom-dykes run with Lord Elcho I was all but caught in one 

 myself, it being placed so near to the headland that Keepsake 

 with difficulty collected himself so as to avoid it, after having 

 leaped into the field. It appeared to me to be quite strong enough 

 to have turned him over on his back. 



It was the small pack this day, which did their work well, 

 though for want of a holding scent, the pace, was not good 

 throughout. This, however, enabled me to scramble after them 

 about three parts of the way, when, wishing to avoid being 

 smothered, and seeing Mr. Cosser on his best horse take to the 

 turnpike road, I gladly followed his example, and was, with him- 

 self, lost the hounds turning from us every yard they went. 

 But I lost something else this day, which did not present itself 

 to me again during my visit to Scotland. This was, an oppor- 

 tunity of seeing how a Scotch yeoman lived. As Mr. Cosser and 

 myself were endeavouring to fall in with the hounds again, we 

 were joined by a wealthy farmer who lived hard by, and when 

 we had given up the pursuit I was thus addressed by him ; 

 " Mr. Cosser is coming to my house to take some dinner with me ; 

 and it will be on the table in half an hour. Will you do me the 



