177 



to provide sport in accordance with the taste of the 

 present day. 



" The best run the Belvoir had last season was on 

 the loth of Eebruary, when, starting from Coston 

 Covert, they hunted steadily for between two and three 

 hours (I forget the exact time), going well for the 

 greater part, and after reaching and traversing the woods 

 of Morkery, and completely " sewing up " all single 

 horses, at last killed in Grunby Warren. The hounds 

 appeared to be never once olf the line ; and the opinion 

 that they had not changed on the road was strengthened 

 by their fox being as stiff as a board when taken from 

 the hounds — a thing one often hears of, but seldom sees. 

 Let credit be given where credit is due. Their hunts- 

 man, Gillard, is undeniable. Starting originally from 

 the Belvoir, he went to school under Mr. Musters, who 

 taught him his work in Nottinghamshire, and then 

 brought him to handle his lady-pack over the Quorn 

 grass. Here for two seasons he did justice to his 

 hounds, country, and Master, and has now mounted 

 the top step of the ladder. He has a whip, too, who 

 has learned to put hounds to him as quick as lightning. 

 Without a good whip there cannot be a good huntsman, 

 and it is a question whether a bad whip does not do 

 more harm than good; at all events, more than one 

 instance occurred last season of an indifferent one 

 completely spoiling a promised run. Jack Goddard is 

 set down as having been almost the cleverest whip that 

 has ridden over Leicestershire in modern times ; while 

 Machin, who was with the Quorn under Mr. Musters, 

 and is now, I fancy, playing at fox and hounds among 

 the flints and hops of Kent, was as good a model as 

 could be chosen ; for he never whipped hounds blindly 

 off a scent, but put them round sharp when necessary, 



M 



