80 HUNTING AND SPORTING NOTES. 



decided sell. I must say that not having sent forward a 

 whip with a message, nor having brought the hounds for 

 exercise, the roads being excellent going, was inexcusable 

 in a well-ordered county like Shropshire, and I hardly 

 wondered at the multitude of bitter words that were 

 uttered against Thatcher on this account. More than 

 this, I will say that hunting at Battlefield was not only 

 feasible, but essentially warrantable had hounds come ; 

 at least so said everyone with whom Borderer came in 

 contact. 



Tide week, however, has had its redeeming feature. 

 Wednesday, at Acton Burnell, with more frost in the 

 ground than to-day, the hounds came, much to the de- 

 light of Sir Frederick and Lady Smythe, and a very fair 

 field. How beautiful the old ruins looked, with a gleam 

 of sunshine breaking on them about 11-30, and how 

 cheerily we cantered through the park after wishing its 

 good owner a happy Christmas over a nip of sherry, just 

 enough to warm us, and make us cast a hopeful eye on 

 the Park Wood, as we entered it from its lowest end. 

 Hounds worked carefully through it, and had just finished 

 to all appearance their task when there was a holloa to- 

 wards the Obelisk Plantation ; a brace of foxes had gone 

 away, and the hounds immediately settled nicely on one 

 of them that left the Obelisk on his left, pointing for 

 Frodesley. There was evidently a scent, and they ran 

 merrily up the hill to the plantation, through it and 

 slanting still to the right over the next high ground, one 

 other dip, and we were rising again to Plaish Hall, and 

 making up oar minds for a good thing. The Vale below 

 was bounded by the Edge Wood, and Longville-in-the- 

 Dale lay in front of us, but, alas for human hopes ! 

 Nearer at hand were a couple of hard-frozen ploughed 

 fields that utterly refused to give us any scent. The 

 hounds threw up. The first whip cast" them well to the 

 left, but our fox was no doubt forward, and Thatcher 

 appearing on the scene, shook his head at the rattle under 

 his horse's feet and gave it up — twenty- two minutes of 

 really fast going, which, but for this contretemps, might 

 have been a brilliant run. If we could have carried the 

 line for another field or two we might have been on the 

 grass again with nothing to stop us short of the Edge 

 Wood. Pitchford Big Wood, and home, wound up our 

 day. 



