1 82 II UN TIN C THE HAKE 



There has been rain, hut it passed away on the 

 previous afternoon, and after a brilhant night the 

 ground is covered with a heavy dew. Our huntsman 

 is wise to begin operations thus early, for now scent 

 is probably good ; whereas when the sun has reached 

 any height the atmospheric conditions will, as a rule, 

 become less favourable. 



Let us linger for a moment by the gate, where 

 hounds are clustered round their huntsman, some 

 juini^ing u[) at him, and others making an unprofis- 

 sional use of their tuneful voices, a transgression 

 which, however, elicits but a faint-hearted rate, for our 

 huntsman loves his hounds intensely, and feels almost 

 inclined to encourage a breach of etiquette which only 

 enhances his already keen sense of enjoyment. 



It is a charming scene. A country roadside 

 which forms the boundary between some rough grass 

 meadows leading down to a stream on the one side, 

 and a heather common on the other, gently undula- 

 ting towards a piece of water, to which the wild duck 

 are just coming in from the stream where they have 

 spent the night. Even now a few duck are to be 

 seen overhead, the whistle of their wings first making 

 us aware of their presence. They are circling high 

 above us, not daring to pitch, and will probably take 



