9 o 



THE HUNTER'S ARCADIA. 



can do this, so there remains little in the shape of 

 horsemanship for them to learn, save, let me remem- 

 ber before coming to a decision, riding on a high- 

 stepper in Rotten Row, with your trousers strapped 

 down so tight as to take the breath out of your 

 mouth, while your boots armed with spurs, brilliant 

 in their polish, project so far from the heels in 

 which they are set as to give the impression that 

 the wearer is the most bloodthirsty of men. To 

 impart this impression to beholders is very important. 



As Nemo and I have now got over a mile or 

 so of ground by fair, honest, good galloping, and 

 we are about getting into a bit of country consider- 

 ably undermined with meer-kat holes, I take a pull 

 upon his head so as to slacken the pace and keep 

 his legs ready for emergencies, since they are awk- 

 ward things for a horse to put his foot in, for, 

 although not quite as deep as a draw-well, they 

 are quite as perpendicular as far as they go. 



But the name meer-kat is as unknown, doubt- 

 less, to stay-at-home Englishmen as the animal is 

 itself. I will attempt to describe it. It is about 

 the size of a pole-cat ferret, of a bright red colour, 

 and gifted with a very long, squirrel-like tail. In 





