62 CHASING AND RACING 



mare called The Duchess for me. Roddy and I, 

 having been lost in the run, chanced upon one another 

 a mile or so outside Minehead. We were jogging 

 along quietly when suddenly we became aware that 

 hounds were running in the vicinity. Presently the 

 hunted stag bounded on to the road and down it, with 

 the leading hounds, on a hot line, not three hundred 

 yards behind. As soon as they appeared on the 

 macadam the stag flew the palings of Dyke Acland's 

 Park and, landing on the turf, sped straight across the 

 open. The whole pack followed suit. We galloped 

 to the lodge gates and entered the park just in time to 

 see a really unique performance ; for the hounds got a 

 view of the quarry and racing him down on the smooth 

 turf, bowled him over in the open, as foxhounds would 

 the little red rover. Whilst the obsequies were being 

 performed by the huntsman (a namesake of mine) 

 Roddy and I stood by. I was taking a pull at the flask 

 he had thoughtfully handed to me ; whilst he was 

 lighting a cigar. 



Suddenly, without warning, The Duchess gave 

 a piercing squeal and bounded into the air, all fours at 

 once, sending me flying skyward, and took to her heels. 

 There I sat, in a state of disgruntlement, whilst Roddy 

 was seized with a merriment which threatened to 

 develop into apoplexy. He was enjoying himself too 

 acutely to be capable of articulation. But whilst at 

 the acme of enjoyment, the sprightly Norah gave 

 a first-class imitation of Her Grace the Duchess's 



