THE C.REY COMES DOWN 



347 



Lord's to Mill Green, The horse had a lot of pace and was 

 the best fencer Mr. Tufnell ever sat on. 



The rest of the field, instead of attempting this apparently short, but 

 disastrously long cut, rode leftwards for a gate, and rode for the dead 

 certainty of being with hounds should they strike the grass country, which, 

 beyond the Forest, stretches away to Bishop's Hall. A few more cunning, 

 or more lucky, turned back to the right without entering the Forest, 

 crediting the fox with a natural love of his home in the gorse, and saved 

 their horses vastly by the manceuvre ; for we could not extricate ourselves 

 from the Forest in time to get away with them ; but we should have walked 

 instead of galloping to the gorse had we anticipated the refrigerating 30 

 minutes that would be occupied in bringing the fox to book in this thick 

 covert. Whew ! how the wind whistled and cut around that gorse ! How 

 blue and cold every one looked before the mort was sounded ! Mr. Brown, 

 V.S., was about the only man I saw whose circulation seemed equal to the 

 occasion, and he was cheerful enough to enliven the proceedings by some 

 Xi'onderful stovics of hi ind foxes. 



Mrs. MTntosh, with her usual liberal forethought, had provided some- 

 thing much more substantial to fortify us against the cold, and there was a 

 great run on refreshments dispensed from the hospitable mansion, which we 

 passed m route for Mr. W, H. Pemberton- Barnes' covert. Bower Wood — as 

 pretty and quick a find as you could want, sir — with great scent over the 

 first few fields and park to the four cross-roads. On the grass beyond in 

 the Romford Vale they ran fitfully, but at times prettily, and if there was 

 lots of jumping, there was little incentive in the way of pace to accelerate 

 it. In the course of an hour's hunting we came across what looked very 

 much like a rabbit coursing party, and about the same time a very trappy 

 fence in the shape of two ditches and bank combined, yclept a double. No 

 better nor cleverer hunter to be found than Capt. Wilson's little grey mare; 

 but trying to clear the lot she landed with her fore feet in the further ditch, 

 and, turning a complete somersault, gave her owner an imperial crowner 

 and a prize-fighter's eye. 



Mr. Cowee followed suit, but, on the principle that actuated Mr. Sorrell 

 in allowing the tail of his nag to grow in long and flowing grace, the bulk 

 of us turned away. Oh ! yes, we turned away — George Sewell, the great 

 Roly Bevan, and any amount more— but those that jumped that double 

 went home happier for the doughty deed. It wasn't the first either that 

 luck threw in their way. Back to Bower Wood : back to the laurels of 

 Bower House, back to hear the wail of the horn blowing the last hound 

 out of covert, and back, as I write this, to what looks like the land of 

 eternal ice and snow, for the froSt is upon us once more, and nature has 

 donned again her winter furs. Jingle your sleigh bells as you drive to the 

 Colonel's to-night." 



A perfect night for sleighing that Tuesday when I 

 penned my last diary notes. The roads were frozen hard 

 under their recent snow covering, and very little effort of 

 imagination was required to realise the usual picturesque 

 scenes of winter life in Quebec or Montreal. Not a sound 

 fell on the ear except the merry tinkle of the sleigh bells 

 and the rhythmic ring of the pony's hoofs. Not a breath of 



Col. Lockwood's hunt dinner. 



