1 84 NIM ROD'S NOR THERN TO UR. 



The next day (Dec. i6th), met the Fife hounds at Kingsmuir; 

 being again mounted by Captain Peter Hay of Mugdrum, upon 

 St. Edmond, and not Duncan, as miscalled in my last. We 

 found at Bonerbo, and again at Redvvells, and killed after a 

 hunting run of an hour in which Walker displayed much science,, 

 and could have again killed his fox sooner than he did, had he 

 had recourse to mobbing. " Leave ; em alone/' halloaed he to a 

 person who would have had recourse to it ; " let ; em have their 

 fun out." * 



December 18. The Fife again at Kemback. I was again: 

 capitally mounted this day by the Earl of Rothes, who kindly 

 invited me to his house on my return to Mount Melville, of which 

 I this day took my leave ; but I am sorry to say an evil genius 

 pursued us. We drew the finest gorse cover in the hunt indeed 

 I know none finer anywhere called Bishop's Gorse, so called 

 from the fact of Archibishop Sharpe, the last but two, I believe^, 

 of Scotch bishops, having been murdered on the ground on which 1 

 the cover now stands, the very spot being marked with a stone ; 

 but we drew it blank. Something was said of a litter accident- 

 ally killed by putting a grate at the mouth of a drain, it not being 

 known that it was used by a fox at all. There must indeed have 

 been some cause for our disappointment, and for the sake of fox- 

 hunting I hope that is the real one. 



But as I have already said, this was an unlucky day, for there 

 was a breast high scent, and still no good could be done, from a* 

 series of untoward events. Twice the hounds slipped away out 

 of a large woodland at an awful pace, and each fox headed back 

 into foUed ground no one getting well away with them but 

 Walker and Mr. Earle, who had three falls in less than three 

 miles. But he cares little for falls, and will be with them, if 

 possible. Bad however as the hunting of this day was, it had 

 some redeeming qualities, as the greater number of those devoted 

 to fox-hunting have. We were not without our sport. " GONE 

 AWAY !" holloas one sportsman. " YONDER THEY GO !" exclaims 

 another. "True enough," said I, on seeing two horsemen a 

 long way forward, going the very ultra pace, and alongside a 

 large woodland cover. " How I envy those two fellows," said I 

 to myself ; as I clapped spurs to my lord's clever little nag ;- 

 " they are riding parallel with the pack, who are ' a physicking 

 on him/ as the old Shropshire farmer told Sir Bellingham 

 Graham, in the cover !" But lo and behold who should these, 

 by me so much envied, mortals be, but Mr. Whyte Melville's 

 son, an Eton schoolboy, whose horse was running away with 

 him, pursued as Johnny Gilpin was by the post boy, by a gentle- 

 man who thought the boy was riding after hounds, which it 



