HISTORY OF THE LINLITHGOW 



for us at Longmuir. At first it seems quite hope- 

 less, — not a sound is to be heard. Listen ! what 

 is that ? For'ard away, awa-ay, awa-a-ay, awa-a- 

 a-ay ! Are my senses deceiving me ? No, there 

 it is again clear and distinct : there too, are those 

 short, sharp, decisive notes on the horn we all know 

 so well. Yes, they are away. How dark it is, and 

 how those hounds do run ! What a burning scent ; 

 what beautiful music ! Past Hangingside, Binny 

 craig and Oatridge, ' they are racing like mad, as 

 though they were tied to his brush.' Right past 

 the door of Binny House, and down the carriage 

 drive they tear, with hackles up — every hound 

 speaking. Our fox is done : at the east lodge gate 

 he turns to his right and attempts to take refuge 

 among the shale workings. It's no use : see yonder 

 he goes, quite dead beat. Now huntsman holloa 

 your hounds on. Tally-ho, tally-ho, who-hoop." 

 Who shall say that these lines were not written by 

 a sportsman ? 



As in the hunting of every country the primary 

 object is to show sport, so in the history of every 

 Hunt a fair share of space and attention should be 

 devoted to the sport shown. Two only out of the 

 many good runs which took place during the first 

 four seasons in which the Messrs Usher were in 

 oflSce have been described, and there are others 

 equally worthy of mention. In the third of these 

 seasons — one nearly as open as the first — there 

 were many days on which hounds ran well, and 

 although the hunt from the Binns strip to Pepper- 



306 



