350 THE MEYNELL HOUNDS. [1901 



twig. Now we are loosed out again into a beautiful stretch of country, hounds 

 running sharply, while we, 



"O'er the open still careering, 

 Fence and furrow freely clearing," 



can go galloping joyously on, over Bentilee Park, down a ploughed field, which 

 stops hounds no more than does a wired gap the man who is nearest to them 

 [Mr. Power]. The barbed abomination snai)ped at his onslaught hke the cords 

 in the hands of Samson, and his followers had cause to be thankfid. Over the 

 Ash brook hounds run merrily, but a baked fallow brings them to their noses, 

 while the huntsman holds them on till they begin to run again on the grass, and 

 Abbots Bromley blocks the way. Just where the bridge on the main Voad from 

 Newborough crosses the Ash brook, the fox, too, had crossed the road. Up 

 the brook side they ran hard, over the Abbots Bromley end of Dirty Gutter 

 Lane, pointing for Lord's Coppice, but our fox had turned to the right of Bagot's 

 Park, by park side, and just short of Moors' they checked. Hitting it off again, 

 they ran to the left of the Hare's Back, when they seemed to have got close to 

 their fox, for they made the dust fly as they scuttled over the fallows, pointing^ 

 for Hart's Coppice. After this momentary flash they came to slow hunting, 

 and it seemed to be all over between Hart's and Field House Coppice, after an 

 hour and a quarter, a six-mile point, and close on eleven miles as hounds ran. 

 But the Master must have had a shrewd idea that the Birch Wood was his fox's 

 point, for no sooner were hounds thrown in than up jumped the fox, and they 

 ran him well to the right of Chantry Wood, nearly down to the Shoulder of 

 Mutton, Hoar Cross, back up the hill, to the left of Birch Wood, through Bath 

 Wood, turned sharp to the right, and raced him to ground not sixty yards in 

 front of them this side of Bromley Hurst. A capital hunt and a good fox. 

 Nearly every one now went home, and space forbids anything more being said 

 about a good day's sport. 



Monday, March 11th, Darley Moor. The exception proves the nile, and 

 luckily to-day was the day in ten when fair weather favoured us at this bleak 

 fixture. Hounds looked like going, being full of muscle, coats fine, and ribs just 

 showing, though their backs were well filled enough. Go they did, too, when 

 they drove their fox over the main Ashbourne road, just on the Cul)ley side of 

 the place of meeting, pointing for Snelston Firs. Up-wind this, but they ran just 

 as fast when they turned short down-wind after crossing the awkward dumble. 

 In fact, you might gallop your best without fear of overriding them. After this 

 down-wind turn it required no wizard to see that it was a hounds' day. How 

 they did fly right-handed to the bye-road from Snelston to Darley Moor. Just a 

 hover on the road, and then, heads up, sterns down, away they scurried across the 

 Park to the New Gorse. Not long did they dwell here before they were off across 

 the Ashbourne road, with Collycroft Hill on their left, straight for the Holt. 

 Just short of this there runs a brook, nothing in itself, but jealously guarded by 

 a fence with a horrilile drop, and rails in all sorts of awkward positions. Some 

 galloped left to the lane, and did well ; others wanted to cut the Gordian 

 knot, but could not for the moment find the weak spot. At last some one found 

 it, as some one usually does, if you wait long enough, and the pent-up little 

 throng charged up the opposing slope. A steep slope it was, too, and hounds 

 were out of covert and away over the road from Ashbourne to Edlaston 

 before any of this lot got to them. Here three couples slipped on, crossing 

 the Osmaston-Edlaston road. Running hard for Shirley, along the bottom. 



