GALLEY HILLS TO EPPINC; I9I 



of hunting as her father, to whose early and careful tuition she 

 doubtless owed the oraceful seat and good hands that always 

 enabled her to hold her own with the best when the pace 

 had made the company very select. 



Fortune continued to favour those who steered their course on the left ; 

 for the hounds came right across their front just before touching Galley 

 Hill. Over the first grass field after leaving the lane, no one, not even the 

 huntsman, could manage more than a trot, so deep and holding was the soil. 

 \"ery heavy, too, was the next one, recently sown ; but it was down hill. 

 Shut off the steam doivn hill, is Bromley-Davenport's advice, and not bad 

 advice either : and Mr. Lockwood, who was leading at this point, remem- 

 bered it. Necessary, too, for there were two awkward, trappy jumps at the 

 bottom which landed you into the road. There was galloping room in the 

 next grass field, too rusty a hue for permanent pasture. 

 On, on, 



. . For the bitches were racing before us, 

 Not a nose to the earth, not a stern in the air; 

 And we knew by the notes of that modified chorus. 

 How straight we must ride if we meant to be there ! 



The more left-handed you steered the worse was the next fence to be nego- 

 tiated. Even Mr. F. Green's willing roan declined to he landed on it, and 

 persuaded his owner to try lower down. 



Hounds just touched the plantation on the right of Shatter Bushes, and 

 then went away up the hill towards Cobbins-end. It was a big order to 

 request even a blood one to execute — the stiff post and rails up the hill — but 

 the shortest way is the usual one chosen by Mr. A. Kemp, and his good 

 black mare was asked to attempt it. But with a due regard for her owner's 

 neck, she fiatly declined. In the meantime they could be easily turned by 

 jumping o\'er a bank and small brook. If your horse had not recovered 

 his second wind as you rose the next plough and dipped down to the 

 Cobbins Brook, his chance was gone. Over the brook by the bridge, a 

 momentary falter in the road, a salutary " hold hard " from the Master, and 

 we were ding-donging on again as hard as ever. Only those near hounds 

 ever get those momentary respites — rare pulls in their favour. Those in 

 the back ground knew nothing about them, but had to keep for ever pegging 

 away in the vain endeavour to come up to the front. Turning slightly to 

 the right, Mr. Kemp let daylight into a bullfinch, and was pulled off; 

 while Mr. R. Ball's horse, ivhisking high and strong into the air, landed him 

 safely over. The next fence, a wattled hedge with ditch on the far side, 

 was a fair test on the go left in your horse, for it would not stand trifling 

 with. 



By Spratt's hedgerow, which was just touched on the right, a man was 

 seen frantically waving his arm, indicating the direction the fox had taken. 

 But " let well alone " holds good with hounds equally with horses' tails, so, 

 although there was a momentary hesitation, Bailey never touched them, 

 but let them work it out. The man had evidently turned the fox. Hitting 

 it off into the rookery plantation, you had to rush through and jump out 

 quickly, to be with hounds, as they rattled over the hill into Jenkins's 

 Spinney and over the long brook-divided mead. Reaching the brow of the 

 next hill, Epping town could be seen in the distance, with the pack driving 

 steadily on before you. 



The two following fences were fully as honest as any that came in the 

 run — the first, a down-hill jump, over a blackthorn fringed ditch ; the next, 



