414 



The Book of the Horse. 



expect to find in he hunting-field. He was so fond of the Essex country that he used to 

 travel from his seat in the heart of Surrey to join Lord Petre's hounds. He, too, tried his 

 hand at a stag-hunting song, and a very good song it is, but it fails at the same place as 

 Whyte Melville's, because there can be nothing poetical in putting a hart or hind back again 



into a van. 



Wild deer in the West once in four or five years give a straight run of an hour, or even 

 two, over the moors, but a run of ten and fifteen miles over an enclosed country with stag- 

 hounds and a trained deer is an ordinary occurrence in the Vale of Aylesbury, in the 

 Roothings of Essex, and in the best part of Surrey. 



"FORRARD AWAY."* 



" Forrard away, forrard away ! 



Cheerily, ye beauties, forrard away ! 



They flash like a gleam o'er the upland brow, 



They flash like a gleam on the russet plough. 



O'er the green wheat-land far to see, 



Over the pasture, over the lea. 



Forrard away, forrard away ! 



Cheerily, ye beauties, forrard away! 



" A stiff ox-fence, with its oaken rail — 



' Rap, rap ' go the hoofs, like a peasant's llail- 

 A five-foot drop ; see the rushing brook. 

 Send him at it, don't stop to look ; 

 Dash through the quickset into the lane, 

 Out on the other side, forrard again. 

 Forrard away, forrard away ! 

 Cheerily, ye beauties, forrard away ! 



" A moment's check, one cast around, 

 'Tis forrard again, with a furious bound ; 



Mellow and sweet their voices sound. 



Steady, my pet, at the five-barred gate ; 



Lightly over, with heart elate : 



Up with the elbow, down with the head ; 



Crash through the bullfinch like shots of lead. 



Forrard away, forrard away ! 



Cheerily, ye beauties, forrard away ! 



Look at the hounds, their muzzles high, 

 A sheet would cover them, on they fly, 

 'Tis music, now, not a whimpering cry ; 

 Neck or nothing, we'll do or die. 

 Swinging along at a slashing pace. 

 With souls on fire each risk to face. 

 Forrard away, forrard away ! 

 Cheerily, ye beaudes, forrard away ! " 



■ Thread the hazels, over the stile, 

 'Tis forty-five minutes, each five a mile. 

 Cheerily, ye beauties, forrard away 1 " 



HUNTING WITH BLOOD-HOUNDS. 



Lord Wolverton, who established a pack of blood-hounds for stag-hunting in Dorset, in 

 1871, favoured me with the following letter, dated September, 1874: — 



" I beo-an in 1 871 by buying six couple of hounds from Captain Roden, of Kells, county 

 Meath, which were excellent, but periwps not quite the pure blood-hound ; they had a (fox) 

 hound cross in them. I have bought and bred a good many pure blood-hounds, with sixteen 

 couple of which I hunt red deer. These hounds are 26 to 27 inches high ; black-and-tan, 

 with fine noses. They run very fast, getting over the ground with a long stride. TJtcy will 

 stand no lifting ; and only lose a scent when they are pressed by horses, or taken oft' to 

 attempt a cast, like fox-hounds. 



" I find them handy to voice, but any ' whipping-in ' makes them sulky. Their notes 

 are very deep, and when running a cold scent the music is extremely fine. They race fairly 

 together, and do not tail more than the ordinary stag-hounds. They do not dash for a 

 scent like fox-hounds, but they drive in good style. I have hardly enough yet to draft, or 



" Posthumous Memoirs of Ch.irk's I'lixtoii, M.PJ 



