Echoes of the Hunting Horn 



for a hare. After some consultation it is decided to 

 draw the bottoms under the road. Stretched along a 

 two or three hundred yards front, hounds and men beat 

 for their quarry. Although the hounds may not be 

 beautiful according to Peterborough standards, they are 

 workers, every one, and possess that priceless hound 

 asset keenness . 



Suddenly, a hound's stern waves frantically. Later, 

 he whimpers. Others hasten to make enquiries, a 

 huntsman speaks to him as though to a praiseworthy 

 child : " Galloper boy, steady on it ! " Soon a startled 

 hare makes her appearance, and the young man whose 

 voice sounded so quiet a moment ago is transformed 

 into a human tornado. With an avalanche of hunt cries 

 he races bareheaded, cap in hand, after the hare, to 

 induce hounds that are furthest away to reach her line 

 with the shortest possible delay. When sufficient 

 hounds are on properly, he stops, to enjoy the results 

 of his labours. 



Across the water-logged bottoms hounds go screaming 

 away on a breast-high scent. Strung out, as yet, owing 

 to their uneven start, closing up gradually, as the too- 

 excited leaders overrun the hare's change of course. 

 All together now, hunting steadily past the turf-ricks; 

 showers of spray flung skywards as they tackle the big 

 bog-drain, lost for a moment behind the black sallys, 

 over a bank they come, pouring relentlessly. Startled 

 cattle race for safety. Two goats, chained together, 

 cannot agree as to which way to run and are enveloped 

 in, and left behind by hounds before they have arrived 

 at a decision. Beyond the bog, where grey walls stagger 



58 



