92 A HUNTING CATECHISM 



dragging himself through a gap in the hedge of a 

 field, at right angles to the direction we were 

 going, flashed across me. " Grant," I shouted, 

 " they are on a fresh fox ! There goes ours," 

 pointing with my whip, as I spoke. "Are you 

 certain ? " he replied as we galloped on. " Abso- 

 lutely certain," was my answer, whereupon he 

 wheeled his horse to the right, and blew his horn 

 with all his might, though the pack were already 

 racing at their best pace in the next field, straight 

 toward the man in the distance, who kept hol- 

 loaing with full lung-power. Grant, however, 

 took no notice of him, but kept on blowing his 

 horn until the whipper-in had managed to get to 

 the hounds, and sent them straggling back to the 

 horn. Now came an anxious moment, for 

 hounds whipped off when running hard do not 

 often settle clown very kindly to another scent, 

 especially as in this case, it was sure to be weak, 

 with such a beaten fox in front. To my relief, 

 however, the pack at once started running, 

 directly they touched the place where the fox 

 was viewed, and as at the end of that very field 

 he had lain down to rest, on jumping up in view 

 he was rolled over at once. Grant's " Thank you, 

 sir, I should never have got him if it had not 

 been for you," fell on very gratified ears ; at the 

 same time I felt the real credit was due to Grant 

 himself for so quickly solving the problem, when 

 every appearance was in favour of the pack 

 having been right before, they never having been 

 off the burning scent for even a moment, and no 

 indication having been given of a change of 

 foxes. 



To the following questions Tom Smith, the 



