CHAPTER VI. 



OF HUNTING A STAG. 



The hunt is up, the morn is bright and gay, 



The fields are fragrant and the woods are green. — 



Shakespeare {Titus Androiiicus). 



When once the tufters are stopped the sooner the 

 pack is brought on the better, and it is now the 

 practice to signal for it, instead of the huntsman or 

 whip, as the case may be, galloping back to fetch it. 

 This saves much time and much unnecessary wear 

 and tear of horseflesh, a matter needing consideration 

 when hounds are running hard four days a week. 



The moment the horn or whistle is heard and the 

 cry of " Gone away," the appearance of lassitude 

 and indifference which strikes a visitor as charac- 

 terising a Devon and Somerset field is at an end, and 

 everyone tears after the pack at top speed. There 

 is, indeed, more haste as a rule than there is any 

 necessity for. Huntsman and Master have to 

 change horses, and if riders have to pass any obstacle 

 like a hunting gate or an awkward crossing in a combe, 

 the Master always gives them a chance. If a rider 

 gets left at the start it is more or less his own fault 

 nine times out of ten, but when once hounds begin 



