CHAPTER XVII. 



HUNTING IN A HUEEICANE. 



DESIRING to have a preliminary canter before beginning 

 regular hunting work, I arranged for a ride through 

 Windsor Forest last Friday. I found a fierce wind 

 blowing and a torrent of rain falling that looked bad 

 for those bent on forest hunting. As the morning 

 advanced, so the severity of the storm increased, until 

 it became a raging tempest, the like of which I have 

 seldom seen except in a tropical land. Having made 

 up my mind, however, for a day's sport, and being 

 mounted on a handsome young chestnut horse, I 

 thought on such a sturdy steed I might brave the 

 elements. The rain fortunately ceased before I started, 

 but as I entered the Long Walk the raging wind 

 swayed the stately elms, tearing off enormous branches, 

 and strewing the ground with leafy boughs to an 

 extraordinary extent. Cantering swiftly along, I wit- 

 nessed the havoc that was going on all around me, 

 keeping as far to windward of the big bending trees 

 as possible, and feeling a certain amount of satisfac- 

 tion at running the gauntlet safely amidst the falling 

 limbs of venerable timber, the strength of the wind in- 

 creasing as time went on. Having passed undamaged 



