36 MEMORIES OF MEN AND HORSES 



pounded on after them, the country being rare going 

 and the fences very negotiable. 



" Forrard on there, ye slinking divils ! " shouted Jack, 

 cutting at the laggards of the pack, whom we had now 

 caught up. " My eyes, sir, but this'll show you what's 

 what." 



I was thoroughly enjoying myself. To anyone who 

 has only hunted among hundreds of his fellows the 

 sensation of being "away" with but one companion is 

 very novel, and I venture to think that the man who 

 has ever experienced it will look back to that day as a 

 red-letter one in his annals of sport. 



But Jack's chestnut was not infallible, and he 

 blundered over some stiff rails that came in the way, 

 rolling over and over and crumpling up his rider 

 in most formidable fashion. I pulled up in some 

 apprehension. 



" Gan on, lad gan on wi' ye ! " roared Jack, shaking 

 himself free from his horse. " Never mind me ; stick 

 to 'em ! Ars all reel" - And so he was, though it 

 would have taken many men weeks to get over such 

 a fall. 



Thus we slipped along for a good twenty minutes 

 to a small larch plantation which extended over an 

 opposing hill or bank. Here there was a not un- 

 acceptable check, as hounds went bustling among the 

 undergrowth up the ascent, followed by Jack and me. 

 I found vast difficulty in keeping my head clear of the 

 tree branches ; and this difficulty was enormously in- 

 creased when, having reached the top, the "wild 

 huntsman " urged his career in most break-neck fashion 

 down the other side, where the trees grew very thick and 

 the descent was very steep. 



