56 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



THE THREE PACKS. 



IN chequered weather variable sport a brilliant scent now 

 and then ; often again none at all. If on two days we could 

 only saunter about livid and shivering in the cold, on three we 

 had sport and warmth and exercise leaving the balance well 

 on our side. The ground gets deeper arid more rotten day by 

 day ; but Leicestershire is no worse treated in this respect than 

 many of its neighbours. It pleads guilty to some little plough 

 here and there ; and the rain has deeply soaked its valleys. 

 But it is not all plough ; it is not all vale ; and it meekly folds 

 its hands in gratitude. 



Material enough for a column of its own was furnished by 

 the Quorn Friday of Nov. 17 in a fine gallop of three-quarters 

 of an hour, followed by two more hours of almost incessant 

 running. The day was cold, clear, and bright, in keeping with 

 a coming frost ; and some of the nicest riding ground in the 

 Quorn country was the scene of the sport. The first run was 

 straight enough for all requirements, and the earlier half of it 

 quite brilliant. The second event was a double ring ; but a ring 

 sufficiently wide and good to deserve the appreciation which it 

 obviously met. In fact, Friday was the best day for scent and 

 sport that the winter of '82 has yet produced, in the Melton 

 district. 



The meet at Rearsby, and a find at noon. Brooksby Spinney 

 a humble concoction of a few dead sticks and artificial earth 

 supplied the latter. The Master sent a whip on to crack his 

 lash beside the little covert ; and a big yellow fox was well afoot 

 before he could be surrounded by the bustling pack. A Novem- 

 ber field is not a large one even in the Leicester district. But 

 the two little handgates below the spinney were scarcely enough 

 for the flood that pressed them to choking, as the halloa-away 

 cut through the crisp, keen air. Over the rough wide pasture 

 above, where the shepherd was waving his hat and pointing in 

 a direction which has no strong covert and scarcely a ploughed 

 field for miles. None too readily did the hounds seem to grip 



