NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 137 



Men certainly run great risks who follow hounds in rough and wild 

 countries. Williamson and his first whipper-in were in some peril for their 

 lives last winter, and I will detail the circumstances of the case, as they 

 were detailed to me by the latter. The hunted fox faced the Cheviot 

 hills towards the close of a cold day in January, and all the field dropped 

 astern after ascending to a certain point, with the exception of William- 

 son and himself, whose duty compelled them to proceed. After a time, 

 they also lost sight of the hounds from two distinct causes. First they 

 were somewhat defeated by the pace ; secondly, a mist came on, which 

 prevented their distant view. Williamson, however, pushed forward in 

 the line he thought they were taking, and, fortunately, getting to wind- 

 ward of them was able at length to hear, and finally to stop them. But 

 what was their situation then ? The mist became a fog, and they found 

 themselves worse than benighted, without rule or compass, in a wild and 

 trackless region, many hundred yards above the level of the sea. Surely 

 the goddess of the chase must have befriended them ; for, as if she had 

 sent him thither for the purpose, a farmer, who had been looking after 

 his sheep, and had also got out of his latitude, crossed their path, and 

 with great difficulty conducted them into a road that led them as well as 

 himself towards their wished-for home. It is more than questionable 

 whether they would have survived the night, had they been condemned 

 to pass it on the mountain. Hence the necessity of every fox-hunter 

 in wild countries, having — after the manner of old Corcoran —a small 

 flask of brandy in the side-pocket, which would, in this case, have 

 confirmed its title to the rank it holds in the French vocabulary — namely 

 '< the water of life*." 



* Perhaps many of your present readers may not have seen my account of the say- 

 ings and doings of this conspicuous character in the late Lord Derby's (stag) hunt. 

 Being apparently dead from a fall, the question was asked — " Has no one got any 



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