2 70 iRiMno IRecoUcctions an& Uurf Stories 



two o'clock, and ran straight to Kelmarsh Spinney, 

 not very fast. There they got on better terms with 

 their fox, and went out at the bottom of the covert. 

 There was a nasty small hand-gate with stump or 

 stop at the side to prevent it swinging back too far, 

 and I narrowly escaped an accident. As the man 

 in front of me threw it back very sharp, it caught 

 the stump and was rebounding, when I luckily 

 stopped it with the hook of my whip just as the 

 mare was in the act of jumping at it. We 

 scrambled through somehow, so I said, " No more 

 gates, my dear," and I do not think I went through 

 another. I am certain I never tried to open one all 

 the way to Bowden Inn. The hounds by this time 

 had fairly settled down to their fox, and were 

 running over the very finest line of country it is 

 possible to imagine, much less describe. By Clip- 

 stone, Farndon, Oxenden, Lubbenham, and on to 

 Bowden Inn we went — about nine miles all grass, 

 and every sort of fence. I don't know how many 

 ox-fences I jumped in that run, but more than I 

 should care to jump now, even if I was on this 

 chestnut mare, who was one of the biggest jumpers 

 I ever rode. The reason of the number of ox- 

 rails was that it was before wire — that curse to 

 hunting — had come into use. Captain Olliver, who 



