102 THE MEYNELL HOUNDS. [1883 



and were whipped off at dark at Mercaston. Our 

 Master, the Squire, has his field well under command 

 when at the covert side, but perhaps some are just a trifle 

 too eager when scent is catchy. When it is good the 

 Squire is always close to his hounds. Nothing stops him, 

 and there is no need to restrain any one, except from 

 riding over wheat and seeds. But to return to Thursday. 

 At eleven minutes past eleven the word was given, and 

 Charles threw the hounds into a little circular spinny 

 standing in the Park close to the Hall. In a moment 

 Jim tallied him away; time, 11.13. This was not the 

 first find we have had from the same little spot, many 

 thanks to Mr. Cox, who, though he does not hunt, strictly 

 preserves for us. Most of the field were ready. Pug's 

 first point was for Wild Park, and it was soon evident 

 scent was everything that could be desired. Several 

 spills occurred in the first five minutes. Notably a 

 grand black horse, a few minutes previously ridden by 

 the noble M.F.H. of a neighbouring pack, was observed 

 making the best of his way, with an empty saddle and 

 no bridle, to his usual place — the front, but, fortunately 

 for his owner, he was stopped, when and where I do not 

 know, but I saw them up — the horse well baked before 

 the end of the run. The pace for the first twenty-two 

 minutes, towards Langley and bending round to the west 

 towards Dalbury Lees, was very fast. Here there was a 

 slight and welcome check of about a minute, enabling 

 many, who were apparently out of it, to nick in. Charles 

 soon had them right again, and away past Dalbury Lees, 

 across the dreaded Trusley brook, where the width was 

 nothing particular ; in fact, this brook is nowhere very 

 wide until it flows through Etwall — but how many have 

 had reason to remember its rotten banks and soft bottom ! 

 I saw no grief at this spot to-day, and we were taken at 

 best pace towards Osliston. Here he swung to the right 

 and sunk the hill nearly to the Culland Covert. But, 

 before reaching it, he turned to the left by the brook side, 

 and ran due west till within a fiekl of Lonoford inn. 



