LETTER XXVII. 301 



casualties occurred. A sailor on a cart horse rode foul 

 of his brother tar on a forest pony. "Avast there. 

 Jack," cried the latter. *' Shiver my timbers, but that 

 big craft of yours will run down my life boat in this 

 gale." "Steer ahead, Tom, for this crazy old brig 

 won't tack, and she is full three sheets in the wind 

 already ; so look out for squalls." 



The hustling and bustling, and jostling against each 

 other, and the cracks that were met with against the 

 limbs of the trees formed a very amusing overture until 

 the play began, which it very soon did, by a deer being 

 found ; and away we went right over the open and across 

 a morass, which was only passable at certain places. 

 The scene that ensued baffles description ; in every di- 

 rection were seen horses gallopping away without their 

 riders, numbers floundering in the bog, some scrambling 

 through to the other side, and several nearly buried. 

 Following my leader and host, who being then master of 

 the New Forest hounds, and acquainted with all the safe 

 passes, we soon left the majority of our large field in the 

 rear, to settle their differences as best they might. The 

 hounds now divided. Davis went with one lot; my 

 friend, with one whipper-in, myself, and about thirty 

 others kept with the other half of the pack. After run- 

 ning fifty minutes at a good pace, our deer, a four year 

 old, lay down in some high gorse bushes on the top of 



a hill. 



The hounds were stopped, as it was intended to take 

 the deer alive. " Now, gentlemen," said the whipper- 

 in, " if you will only draw up round, I will creep under 

 the gorse and hobble him." " Leave that to me," I said ; 

 " you attend to your work." I drew all the horsemen 



