M HUNTING AND SPOBTING NOTES. 



sweetly the bitches hunt hhn ; plenty of music, and all 

 doing their best. Straight on to the top of the hill, not 

 far from Kenley, where we check in the road, or rather 

 the junction of roads. It is a ticklish moment. Has 

 he run the road ? No, for'ard over the plough beyond, 

 and before half the field are aw^are of it hounds are 

 racing for Hughley, with the Edge Wood, a long dark 

 line, in the foreground. Many a longing eye is cast 

 back towards Shrewsbury now, as the list of defaulters 

 is numerous — the soil is holding and the fences blind. 

 " Come up you beast. Thank heaven for that leg to 

 spare." Now they turn straight up the dale, and our 

 fox sees that here at all events there is no rest for his 

 failing strength, so once more he turns his face for 

 home, and goes back by the Lodge at Church Preen, 

 and right up wind to Netherwood. It almost looks 

 like a fresh fox, and yet that deadly crash of the not to 

 be denied bitches speaks a different tale — out at the 

 bottom for Frodesley Hill. It is too dark to see them, 

 but lovely to hear them. " Get on, sir," says a farmer, 

 ■*' they're close at him." The hill is too much for him, 

 •he turns by the side of the dark fir plantation with 

 the wall round it, once more crosses the road, and 

 there is only that big ferny field between him and 

 Acton Burnell big wood. Can he reach it ? The bitches 

 are within fifty yards of him, he has to turn, and there 

 under the low wall by the Eookery Farm, they bowl 

 .him over, just as the clock is at five p.m. So dark 

 is it that it is hard to see who is there, and who not. 

 One hour and twenty-two minutes by the master's 

 watch, and a first rate finish to an unpromising day. 

 Barely a score of the mighty two hundred that con- 

 gregated at the meet are there to witness the end ; 

 to their honour, however, be it said, two ladies of 

 our bluest blood, coming from the Ludlow country 

 are there to claim the trophy of the brush. They put 

 .all our home belles to shame ; one has to catch a 

 train for Bromfield. How we all wish her brother 

 was as fond of hunting as is this young lady. It 

 is a long time since Pitchford has shown a better 

 run than this, and it w^as really good form in Colonel 

 Cotes putting us on the track of this good fox, as 



