o3- LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



bordered road they had come to a check and the fox doubled 

 back down the side of the hedge, and I wondered whether an 

 Essex scream astonished the Pytchley nerves — one twist over 

 the road and he was done. 



Later on, as the gale increased in violence, we reached 

 Hraunston Gorse (a favourite covert of Lord Spencer's, who 

 was in command) ; a covert I am not likely to forget, as the 

 last time I was there, nigh twelve months ago, I had the 

 misfortune to kill a valuable horse a few minutes after we had 

 started, and I caught myself wondering w^hether I should do it 

 again. 



There were the two weak places in the old fence if you 

 didn't care for the gate. There was the long, narrow meadow 

 by the side of the gorse, the scene of many a rush for Shuck- 

 burgh. They tell me that the gate at the bottom has been 

 widened. 



To keep ourselves warm, as the keen blast swept round the 

 gorse in bitter fury, we all kept trotting out and coming back to 

 the line, which the Earl would let no one pass, like starters for 

 a race, as for twenty minutes from point to point of this thick 

 gorse the bitches drove their fox ; but he would not face the 

 open, and the day was spun out in one or two fruitless draws, 

 the field gradually slacking off, leaving few indeed to see 

 hounds blown out of the last covert. Five miles at least of the 

 ten home lay by field, bridle path, and lane. This is certainly 

 one of the charms of the Midlands, the ride to and from covert 

 over these wide-stretching pastures. 



What a treat to be out again with one's own pack on Monday at Nasing 

 Common ; even if the day's sport was not up to the accustomed Christmas 

 Eve bill of fare. After having been jostled and jammed at every gateway 

 as we rode from covert to covert on Saturday in the fashionable shires, 

 where each one is for himself, some of the ladies being worse than the men, 

 what a comfort to get through a gate in peace and in good time, and with 

 good grace. Perhaps, however, rough l^oreas upset everyone. It certainly 

 made it a most difficult matter to open or hold a gate. 



How nice to know everyone, recognise every face. Surely this is one or 

 the charms of hunting from home. I haven't much of a yarn to tell of 

 Monday. It was plucky of the masters (both were out) to let the hounds 

 go into Nasing Coppice, as a thick shroud of mist settled down on a com- 

 paratively small field on the Monday to which, for the third and last time, 

 I am going to allude. How many rode left-handed into the fog with Mr. 

 Arkwright, Capts. Wilson and Bruce, as a fox broke for Harolds Park, I 

 can't say, nor yet how many went to the right and could not find us again 

 in the fog until all was over ; but I can vouch that we had to ride right on 

 the backs of hounds to have the slightest chance of not losing them, and 

 consequently that they were hustled all the way to Deer Park, and they 

 didn"t get away from us as they made for Galley Hills, and running through 

 it crossed the lane for Monkhams. 



