A RUN IN THE FOG 39 



coppice, and the leaders rode to keep him in sight, trusting to his instinct, 

 his woodcraft, his marvellous skill in getting to hounds, to put them all 

 right. A wave of his arm, as he turned just short of the spring, his ear 

 having caught the distant chime — that sharp, chirping note of hounds, which 

 shoiL'cd ho-w they were running on his left ; (and without pulling up to listen 

 further — it would have been of little use, for the deep, sobbing breath of 

 galloping horses, which were thundering on behind, would have drowned 

 any other sound) he steered for the bottom end of Deer Park, striking into 

 the road that commands Shatter Bushes, looking in vain for pad of hound 

 as he galloped down the steep, muddy hill, with the wood on the right. 

 Ah! A clue at last; those galloping colts, with their pointed ears and long, 

 waving tails. To the Warren for a thousand ! Down hill we surged in a 

 turbulent stream, which broke and divided as Mr. Ford Barclay turned up 

 the bank to the left, and the huntsman and Mr. Arkwright held on their 

 course down the lane. 



Mr. Barclay was right. A man was standing at the corner fence of the 

 first field he jumped into, who shouted, " They have just gone into Spratt's 

 Hedgerow." Three grass fields, two flying fences, and the scene shifted. 

 'Twas true that hounds were not in sight, but equally comforting that 

 those twenty or thirty sportsmen and sportswomen who were riding up 

 the side of Spratt's Hedgerow knew where they were. And who were 

 these lucky mortals ? First, Mr. Green, of Todd's Brook. How did he 

 get there ? I know he was standing next to me when hounds found — 

 Mr. Waltham, Mr. Avila, Mr. J. Pelly, Mrs. L. Pelly, Mr. Pemberton- 

 Barnes, Miss Morgan, but of them more anon. 



Nothing but a line of gates and sound turf, as without drawing rein we 

 galloped on for Copped Hall, and, clattering past the house, caught the 

 foremost of those who had been with hounds at Spratt's Hedgerow, 

 Mr. Pemberton-Barnes, but who now lost them completely, for while 

 he was trying to open the iron gates out of the drive to get into the park 

 on the right, hounds had already swept over it {not a soul luith them) into the 

 Warren. The Master and the huntsman could now be seen coming up 

 over the park, by which time Mr. Barnes had succeeded in opening the 

 iron gates ; but the run was virtually over, for our Chief thought it far too 

 good a scenting day to waste in the Forest. None, however, had enjoyed 

 that racing twenty minutes more than Mr. Waltham and Mr. Green of 

 Todd's Brook, for none had seen more of it. But the lucky ones who 

 caught any of its spirit, with few exceptions, were those who got away 

 from Ball Hill with a bad start, or who rode straight up the road to 

 Mr. Nicholl's farm. 



It never rains but it pours, and if you get left behind once in a day, though 

 it may not necessarily follow, still it need not surprise you if it happens 

 again. Now I was not astonished, only pained, when I got left behind 

 (will let you know whom with directly) when hounds got away in the 

 afternoon on the top of a fox from Galley Hills ; but if any one asserts 

 that I was not the last man out of Galley Hills 1 shall quarrel with him. 

 Well, if there are two men in the Hunt to whom I look up, to whose 

 judgment I always bow, they are the Mate and the Admiral. But can I 

 ever trust them again ? The one took me up to a corner which he said 

 was the key to the woods (/ have been looking for that key about tiuenty years) ; 

 the other, when I had left it, feeling uncomfortable, said, " Go back, they 

 are drawing down that way." And back I went, when at that moment 

 hounds were away full cry in the open. 



A stern chase is a long one, but this came to an end in a flying ten 

 minutes over a beautiful grass country, the fox just saving his brush by 



