4o8 



LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



conveniently with the propinquity to home, tempted many of us to forsake 

 the pleasures of the chase for the amenities of the table. Of the going it 

 may be remarked that it was not at all bad, not half so hard as some who 

 had not been out would like to have made it. Of the fencing it may be 

 asserted that it was excellent if not very plentiful, for we hit upon several 

 lines of gates ; but one fence in October in full leaf is worth a dozen in later months, 

 if you care for the excitement of what may be fairly called a leap in the 

 dark, for I can assure you, my friend, that many of the ditches were not to 

 be seen, though known to exist. Major Carter's new grey seemed to take 

 to them like a duck to water. Mr. H. J. Miller's black cob was never 

 asked to play follow my leader, a game which can be played to perfection 

 in the leafy month of October. 



Coming away from Roydon Park 



9 a.m., Wednesday, October 30th, found many of us at Koydon, which 

 we had reached by travelling over roads of iron and fields white with 

 hoar frost. An immediate find at once settled the question of a burning 

 scent in covert, and as quickly dispelled the idea of there being any in 

 the open, for hounds could never run more than 100 yards at a time, 

 though taken along very straight by a fox that knew the country to 

 Tattle Bushes. 



Another fox at the back of Roydon brickfields afforded a momentary 

 excitement, but little else; but, even in these few brief moments, youth 

 and valour, as represented by Mr. Nevill Dawson, and maturity and 

 discretion by Mr. Dent, found their opportunity, and took it, of kissing 

 mother Earth, both standing on their heads in the process. Mr. Nevill 

 Dawson, however, gave his nag a large order when he shot out from the 



