n6 CHASING AND RACING 



who, being accustomed to these ebullitions, suffered 

 hounds to swarm around him and even jump at his 

 head and quarters, without the remotest sign of 

 irritation. A bitch called Sensitive, noted for her 

 agility, actually leaped on to the pommel of my saddle 

 and hung on. I dismounted, and handing Melbury 

 over to Bedford, I took the now thoroughly exhilarated 

 pack aside, so that it could be ringed in and commanded 

 by " the boys in yellow." Then I slipped back and 

 remounted. All to no purpose. The little ladies 

 broke the siege and again clustered around me. It was 

 a delicate task for the whippers-in to flick them away 

 without giving me or my mount a taste of the lash. 

 Rhoda, Blossom, her sister Beauty, and Speedy, a 

 Curraghmore bitch, absolutely refused to budge, and 

 kept dodging in and out of Melbury 's hoofs with their 

 sterns down and their hackles erect. Jack Abel sat 

 mopping his brow and cursing under his breath, 

 whilst Tom Goddard grinned fatuously. My heart 

 went out to these faithful creatures. Visions of a 

 gargantuan feast and the wine when it is bubbly, 

 faded into nothingness. Instructing Bedford to send 

 a telegram from the nearest Post Office, I wheeled 

 Melbury round, and touching the horn lightly, turned 

 his head towards the kennels, seven miles distant, 

 with the bitches, their sterns now up and waving 

 triumphantly, in peaceful and orderly attendance. 



Like most of those who go out to the hunt on 

 horses, I have occasionally indulged in a busman's 



