HARE HUNTING ON THE BRIGHTON DOWNS. 277 



man can get through without fatigue, and neither will care for 

 a parade on the King's^Road afterwards, though that is apparently 

 the end to which a good many frequenters of Brighton who 

 don hunting costume direct their ambition. 



A fashionable fixture with these harriers is in many respects 

 unlike any other gathering of hunting men and women in 

 England. Not even the Queen's buckhounds on their opening 

 day at Salt Hill attract such a variety of followers as may be 

 seen scampering over the South Down hills in pursuit of health 

 and sport. The rough element is, however, generally con- 

 spicuous by its absence, and the riders, if not all distinguished 

 for grace or skill, are on the whole harmless. The Devil's Punch 

 Bowl is one of their favourite trysting places, because there 

 the attractions of hunting and of a monster picnic may be 

 combined. To see the motley cavalcade wending its way over 

 the hills when spring sunshine tempts all Brighton folk that 

 way, one might imagine that the whole population had turned 

 out to keep some time-honoured festival. Along the ridges 

 that command views down precipitous steeps northward and 

 across a wide expanse of green waves in other directions, vehicles 

 of every make and shape are sure to be ranged in line. Round 

 the pack crowds of horsemen gather so closely that the kennel 

 huntsman is kept in a state of perpetual anxiety lest some of 

 his favourites may be kicked or trampled by the restless hoofs, 

 and nobody is so glad as he when the master waves a signal 

 for the hounds to begin drawing. There are some among the 

 hundreds on horseback who do not welcome the call to action 

 quite so joyously. They have begun to realize the possibility 

 of difference between themselves and their impetuous steeds, 



