FOX-HUNTING OUTSIDE THE SHIRES. 15 



thrown far ahead, he pauses for a moment with every faculty 

 on the alert, and then, as the welcome tidings are confirmed, he 

 cheers the pack with a shrill " Hark to Falstaff, hark ! " In a 

 minute the dead leaves are shaken with a rush and a rattling 

 chorus, and with a few clear touches on the horn he proclaims 

 a find. Then the old man becomes a boy once more in his 

 enthusiasm. To force a cunning old Fox through an apparently 

 endless chain of thickets is no child's play, but Jim's eye is quick 

 to note every sign when the hounds are at fault, and with cheer 

 after cheer he keeps them on the line of his hunted one. For 

 twenty minutes they stick to the woodlands, and then an inspirit- 

 ing " Tally ho ! gone away ! " tells that we are in for a run at last. 

 Horsemen and horsewomen dash along the rides at headlong 

 speed, eager for a start. Some crash through the copse to leap 

 the low palings of its boundary fence. Others make fora stile, in 

 anxiety to distinguish themselves while their horses have the 

 courage that hot rivalry gives ; but the more knowing ones, who 

 want to see the finish, however far off that may be, head for a gate 

 that commands wide views of meadow and fallow. There is in 

 truth no great need for hurry. A field freshly ploughed has brought 

 hounds to their noses. They falter, then check, and Jim, who will 

 not have them hurried at a moment so critical, gives time while 

 they fling round in a wide self-cast. He is not of " the let 'em 

 alone " school altogether, and knows full well the difference 

 between hare-hunting and fox-hunting, but he never meddles with 

 the hounds until they have done their utmost. Then his casts are 

 made with quick decision and at no laggard's pace. The Master 

 makes no effort to restrain impetuous pursuers. Jim's uplifted 

 hand and politely persuasive " Hold hard, gentlemen, please ! " are 



