482 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



right beneath that covert they went pretty straight, and fairly 

 fast, to Stockton Village, where he worked us out of scent. I 

 hardly like to speak in fun of a runaway for the position of 

 the unwilling passenger is serious, exhausting and bewildering. 

 But in kindness to others, and in consideration for the many 

 trials a huntsman has already to contend with, I venture to 

 suggest to the owner, or victim, of the brown horse who would 

 (jo, that the next time he takes part in the uncomfortable 

 performance, he should at once head for the covert he came 

 from, or, failing that, for the brow of Shuckburgh Hill. In my 

 experience hounds seldom go fast enough to admit of a bolter 

 being galloped down in direct pursuit of them, added to which 

 the unprepared public is slow to realise that a shout from their 

 rear means instant clearance or deserved annihilation. 



SNATCHED IN THE SNOW. 



FEBRUARY the first is to the hunting season very much as 

 his fortieth birthday is to a man the Divide of his career, the 

 summit of his hill of life. From this point there is less pleasure 

 in looking forward, probably less satisfaction in looking back. 

 The cup is half empty : we shall soon see the bottom, or arrive 

 at the dregs. In hunting the fox there is fortunately at least 

 to the real votary no weariness, no loss of zest, no knuckling- 

 under to disappointment. As long as a man can sit in a saddle, 

 he may be as happy in old age as in boyhood. It is the holi- 

 days of summer that alone make him count his years. And with 

 February 1st come the earliest signs of a waning season. The 

 weekly fixture cards, always sacredly preserved, have accumu- 

 lated almost into a pack : forelegs, that in November were fine 

 as stars and clean as the heavens on a frosty night, have now to 

 be bound and guarded with unsightly bandages ; " calls of busi- 

 ness " frequently rob the covertside of keen men whom nothing 

 but want of a horse would keep away these are some of the 

 tokens of an open winter and of three months wear-and-tear. 



