A great Badnorshire run. 97 



how, how people would howl ! Can any of your readers 

 tell me what " Kewotts " are ? 



With this little bit of poaching on" Shreds and Patches," 

 let us ^o forward to Monday, the 29th iust., at Pilleth, 

 where Colonel Price led the van, and a gallant little army, 

 including three Amazons, followed him in a day's warfare 

 against the foxes of to-day. 



Some nasty rain storms greeted us as we reached 

 Ganders' Bridge Gorse, and gave us their company on to 

 Weyman's Gorse, in neither of which generally safe places 

 did our foe turn up. The rough night had ke])t him or 

 them underground. So on we went, exceedingly damp and 

 depressed, to Hencwm Gorse on Whitton HilL In this 

 more sheltered spot hounds soon began to feather. At 

 last one old one fairly stood and pointed at a brake of 

 gorse not larger than a room. It was only for a moment, 

 then in he dived, and out came a fox, like a Jack-in-the 

 box, out of its very thickest part. He seemed to take in 

 the situation at once, and down he went again — every 

 hound in the pack surrounding him. Indeed escape 

 seemed impossible. We held our breath in suspense. 

 When suddenly out sprang a brace of foxes right over the 

 backs of the astounded pack: as they struggled into the 

 brake — a cleverer deliverance from seventeen couple of 

 eager jaws I never saw. Each fox took different ways 

 round detached gorse bushes, and in less than no time had 

 cleared the pack, and were running away parallel to each 

 other. Slipping through the wire fence they soon put a 

 safe distance between themselves and the pack. Excuse 

 me, dear readers, for dwelling for a minute or two over a 

 scene that is indelibly painted on my memory. Those two 

 grand dog foxes — long, light- coloured greyhounds ; there 

 seemed hardly a pin to choose between them for beauty 

 and pace as they swept over the hill. One was a trifle 

 larger than the other, and the smaller one had the biggest 

 white tag on his brush. As they disappeared over the 

 horizon it was time to catch hold of our horse's head, 

 and begin the fray. The Norton coverts detained 

 us not, nor did Knighton's Wood Gorse, although a 

 fresh fox slipped back from there with a couple of 

 hounds after him. Carter's Dingle was better for the 

 hounds than the horses, but the knowing ones kept 



