ME. tiPONGH'S 8P0BTING TOUR. 



1U1 



CHAPTER XXX. 



THE CROSS-ROADS AT DALLINGTON BURN. 



THE MORNING kIDE In DALLINGTON. 



When his lordship and Jack mounted their hacks in the morning 

 to go to the cross roads at Dallington Bum, it was so dark that 

 they could not see whether they were on bays or browns. It was 

 a dull, murky day, with heavy spongy clouds overhead. 



There had been a great deal of rain in the night, and the 

 horses poached and squashed as they went. Our sportsmen, how- 

 ever, were prepared as well for what had fallen as for what might 

 come ; for they were encased in enormously thick boots, with 

 baggy overalls, and coats and waistcoats of the stoutest and most 

 abundant order. They had each a sack of a macintosh strapped 

 on to their saddle fronts. Thus they went blobbing and groping 

 their way along, varying the monotony of the journey by an 



