NORTHAINIPTONSHIRE 231 



We had the dog pack on this day, and they looked pretty fit to go. 

 We got upon a newly-disturbed fox, and ran him half an hour, but 

 lost him. It was long enough, however, to shew me a chef-d'muvre 

 of Mr. Musters. The hounds checked in a spinney, and the scent 

 was back. He appeared to turn almost before his hounds, and got 

 them on the line again in the twinkling of an eye. We lost this fox, 

 and found again at Crick — the very finest part of Northamptonshire 

 — and had a beautiful kill at the end of one hour and sixteen minutes. 

 There was not a good scent, and the hounds were obliged to get 

 their noses down ; but, without assistance, I question whether they 

 would have tasted him. 



The Crick country is almost all grass, and more strongly fenced 

 than any part of Northamptonshire. Indeed I do not think that I 

 ever saw larger or rougher fences than we had with our first fox ; 

 and there were, consequently, a great many falls. One gentleman 

 I was sorry to hear, had his collar-bone broken ; and that fine 

 horseman, Mr. Davey, was knocked down three times by the fences 

 in less than as many miles. I considered this a fine day's sport ; 

 and every one went home in good spirits and pleased. 



On Wednesday the 29th met within a mile of Kettering, and drew 

 the finest woodlands my eyes ever beheld. They are the property 

 of the Duke of Buccleuch ; and when I say that they contain avenues 

 to the extent of seventy miles in various directions, I need hardly 

 add they are a treasure to a master of fox-hounds. After running 

 one fox to ground, -and seeing some very pretty hunting, myself and 

 several more declined, for the ground was dreadfully hard ; but a 

 gallant fox went away to Siwell Wood in the afternoon, and afforded 

 a fine hunting run of about sixteen miles point blank ovei* a very 

 good country. 



When I arrived in Northamptonshire hunting was drawing to a 

 close. The harsh winds of March had begun to blow, and a day's 

 sport could never be reckoned upon. Mr. Musters' hounds, how- 

 ever, had had more than their share. Indeed they were allowed by 

 all to have had a capital season, and they may be said to have been 

 fleshed in blood. 



Few packs of fox-hounds (or indeed anything else) will bear a 

 microscopic scrutiny. Mr. Musters' certainly will not. The bitches 



