242 LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



belief that hounds might run, for the air was warm and the ground wet 

 enough for scenting conditions. 



Arriving at the Colonel's coverts, Mr. Avila had only just time to 

 exchange his three-year-old for Mrs. Pigott's second horse, that required 

 a lesson across country, when Jack's scream of "Gone away!" at the 

 bottom of Crane's Wood came floating up wind. Hounds ran at a great 

 pace, sans huntsman. He went out at the bottom end of the covert, and 

 Jenkins followed him to Apes Grov^e, Mr. Ford Barclay finding en route that 

 a fence over which Mrs. Grossman's thoroughbred, " Ruth," had flown like 

 a bird, was not so easy as it looked. Breaking the south side of Apes 

 Grove the fox crossed the river half a mile from the ford, and getting on 

 the grass ran clean out of sight, and the question is whether we should ever 

 have caught them had they not checked a field from Barbers. The two 

 ploughmen who pointed out the line hounds had taken could have been the 

 only ones who extracted any fun out of this stern chase for it was too fine 

 a country to ride over without hounds, and so thought Jenkins, as he whipped 

 round at a couple of fences, and would have tried it on again at that last 

 one if he hadn't just caught a glimpse of his favourites in time. At 2.30 

 I left them trotting back to the Osiers at Passingford Bridge — " To run or 

 not to run," a question to be answered later. 



Left Behind. 



None but the enthusiastic foxhunter can fully grasp the full significance 

 of the sentence comprised in the two words " left behind." Few indeed of 

 the ardent followers of the chase who have not at some time or other in 

 their hunting career felt all that is conveyed in those fatal words, " left 

 behind," but from this latter fact consolation may be had. For even a hunts- 

 man, with a free hand to gallop through or round a covert with his hounds, 

 is occasionally caught napping ; though methinks you shall count on the 

 fingers of one hand the number of times in Bailey's long hunting career 

 that hounds— i^/i^ Pucker idge not excepted— have left him in the lurch. 



So let us who were dished on Monday, December 5th, when hounds got 

 away from everyone, except Mr. Tyndale White, in a rattling afternoon run 

 from Curtis iMill Green to the Osiers at Bourne Bridge, and again when 

 they gave us the slip on Wednesday, December 7th, take heart of grace, 

 and hope for better luck next time. But 'tis with the latter date — Wed- 

 nesday, December 7th — that I am more personally concerned, for once 

 again I experienced to the full the doubt, uncertainty, chagrin, and despair 

 — a nightmare from which there was to be no awakening — of being left 

 behind, and completely out of one of the best runs of this prolific season 

 of i897-'98 which the Essex Hounds have placed to their credit. 



Briefly the tale may be told. Wednesday was no morning for feather- 

 bed sportsmen to turn out ; for the day broke in a deluge of rain, which, as 

 the morning wore on, showed no signs of abating. " A nice rain, sir ! " 

 was Jack's cheery greeting at the meet at Little Laver Mill, and " a nice 

 rain " I repeated to everyone I met. And so it was for the East London 

 Water Company and the followers of the Essex Hounds, for the ditches 

 were filling, and the chief obstacle to a straight and good thing across the 

 Roothings of Essex was as rapidly disappearing, for most foxes, even 

 Roothingers, prefer the tortuous maze of dry ditches to the centre track 

 of a twenty-acre ploughed field. A small, liardly recognisable field — so 

 be-mackintoshed, be-aproned, and waterproofed were they — moved on with 

 the hounds for Norwood. Their names you shall have, as far as their 

 muffled attire will permit of identification : The Master, Mr. Loftus W. 

 Arkwright — no mackintosh disfigured or hampered his neat, lithe figure as 



