420 



LEAVES FROi\I A HUNTING DIARY 



of anything except the best way into a field and the quickest way out of 

 it, otherwise we might have seen Mr. Sam on the grey, and another 

 gentleman^ on a bay, turning down a lane to avoid three fences, and never 

 reappearing for the rest of the gallop. A crucial test for horse and rider 

 was soon in front of a dozen or so of us on the left, who crowded round 

 the only weak spot in the fence, a very wide ditch, the take-off slopmg 

 downwards, and on the far side a hurdle, reaching nearly to the top of the 

 bank, was a certain trap for a horse that was "cooked." The Majors- 

 grey swung neatly over. The Mexborough thoroughbred' cleared it, too, 

 and then grief and disaster. Someone was down, I am told, and the rest 

 of the run was blotted out for those who had to assist the fallen. 



Matching Hall 



How silently hounds were streaming along now. Who were those with 

 the Squire in pink coats ? Who the man in the brown coat and cap to 

 match ? Who were the brave ladies in dark habits ? Who was the 

 wearer of the scarlet jacket ? Who the two or three blacks as many 

 undress ? Who, gallantly holding their own, were riding abreast of the 

 FASTEST HOUNDS IN THE COUNTY, " the lady pack of the Essex Hounds," 

 as draggled and worn, scarce a field ahead of them, the fox could be seen 

 still going gamely on, having left Matching Park and missed his last 

 chance of shaking off his pursuers. For at the pace they were driving 

 forward there was little hope of his ever gaining the big earths at Down 

 Hall ; but as he drew steadily nearer to them, and it looked as if he would 

 gain them after all, the huntsman caught hold of his hounds, and, capping 

 them on as they ran from scent to view, rolled him over in the open within 



Mr. Pemberton-Barnes, 



- Major Wilson. 



Mr. E. Barclay's horse. 



