292 NIMROD'S HUNTING TOUR 



an hour, and killed their fox, but only in the presence of a chosen 

 few, who were bold enough and fortunate enough to get well over 

 this awkward stell— Billy Williamson, I believe, being the first to 

 charge it. It was deep and rotten, and the change that was effected 

 in the colour of the ci-devant white-cords of those gentlemen who 

 dropped short at it plainly showed what sort of a bottom it had. 



Two things were now evident : 1 was quite sure they were in for 

 a run, and I was equally sure I should see nothing of it unless let in 

 by some lucky turn. I did not, however, quit my pilot ; but strange to 

 say, I rode for exactly one hour about fifty yards behind him, without 

 ever hearing the tongue of a hound until within the last ten minutes. 

 When we did get up to them , the thing was over ; the who-whoop 

 was only wanting : they had not tasted him, but he was dead beat, 

 and in a few minutes more Matty had him by the brush. It must 

 have been a beautiful run for those who saw it. The pace was 

 excellent, and the country very good indeed for the provincials. 



I had two reasons why I did not regret this wrong turn, at first 

 starting. First, I and my horse might have been planted in the 

 stell ; and secondly it was a great treat to me to see Matty Wilkinson 

 and his chesnut horse get over, or, I should rather say, cree2} over, 

 upwards of a hundred fences, in the very masterly manner in which 

 they Ijoth performed. He has ridden this horse three seasons 

 without having had a fall from him ; and when I saw him creeping 

 over his fences, which appeared nothing to him, whilst my horse 

 was flying over them, and afraid to touch a thorn, I almost envied 

 his great weight. Certain, however, is it, that hunters carrying 

 heavy men do walk into their fences in a most enviable manner, 

 although indeed, if they did not walk into them, they could never 

 gallop across a deep country for an hour and a hundred fences into 

 the bargain. 



I really was much pleased with the scientific manner in which 

 Mr. Wilkinson and his horse crossed the country in this hour's 

 gallop. We exchanged but few words with each other — with the 

 exception of his telling me he was too heavy for a huntsman, and an 

 occasional lamentation of our ill luck. Matty, however, once 

 addressed his horse, and it had the desired effect. We came to a 

 verv awkward fence, a wide ditch from us, and no footing for our 



