68 THE LIFE OF A HUNTER 



under my carcase and sagging belly. My 

 legs, instead of fining down, became bigger 

 as I stamped about, plagued all day long 

 by the flies, and waiting for the end of 

 the long summer days when I could feed 

 in peace. Then it was Christmas before I 

 really exchanged my soft for real hard 

 flesh, and felt equal to a long day. If 

 hunters are to be turned out to grass, they 

 should be kept in during the hot days and 

 turned out in the evenings. 



I had, also, considerable experience of 

 charges and blisterings, but never felt my 

 legs any better for them, nor did I notice 

 much improvement in their appearance. 

 Talking of legs, I never found that leaving 

 the hair on them during the hunting season 

 saved them from thorns, and it seems to me 



