266 REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN 



cannot do much harm ; and in wild ground among furze, to 

 hunt, find, and then retrieve, he is perfection. 



In the winter of 1852 I was out on Holmesley walk with a 

 warrant for a doe, and killed her on the edge of a bog in a 

 valley running down to the railway, in sight, though a distant 

 one, of three plate-layers, or navvies as they are vulgarly called, 

 who were at work on the line. In company with me, only in 

 couples, when I killed her, were my terriers and Tramp, as, after 

 killing the doe, I intended to beat for woodcocks and rabbits. 

 A Highland deer greyhound, and a very good one, the property 

 of Sir Percy Shelley, was with me when the deer was killed, who 

 was afterwards to be coupled up when the terriers were called 

 for. It is a habit among the keepers in this forest to let a 

 deer lie without anybody with it while they go for a conveyance 

 to take it to the nearest lodge, and I have often asked them if 

 they never had one stolen. They replied in the negative ; but 

 the circumstance I am narrating inclines me to think that deer 

 have been stolen in this particular manner, although the theft 

 has not been acknowledged. I did not like to leave the vicinity 

 of the venison, so, while the woodman was gone for his cart, I 

 continued on the adjacent hills, beating for woodcocks and 

 rabbits. After being out of sight of the deer for some time, 

 perhaps three-quarters of an hour, I reached a spot where I 

 ought to have obtained a view of her, but could not make her 

 out. The cart had not arrived to fetch her, of that I was sure ; 

 so, thinking perhaps that the heather hid her from my sight, I 

 despatched my man to the spot, and bade him, if the deer was 

 gone, to hold up his hat. He reached the spot, and the signal 

 was made of the disappearance of the deer. Expecting the 

 worst, that she had been carried off, I hastened to the place, and 

 there, sure enough, was where her throat had left a sanguinary 

 trace as she had been dragged out of sight into some furze, and 

 then all traces of her disappeared. It was in cold, harsh, dry 

 weather, and on the hills the footstep of a man made no 

 impression, while over the bogs, if he stepped on the tufts of 

 moss, they rose again after the step had passed, and no trace 



