THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



47 



' On, Marmion, on ! ' — to take a slight liberty with the poet 

 of Abbotsford — and away he went across another grass-field ; 

 half jumped, half crashed through a weak flight of post and 

 rails, which let him into the same enclosure as hounds were 

 still running hard in, the first flight riding a little behind, 

 right and left of them. The ground now began to fall rapidly 

 as they neared the water meadows, situate in the low-lying 

 portion of the vale. What with fright, and the awful velocity 



THE BEATEN FOX. 



with which he had been carried through the air, the unhappy 

 Binkie had almost relapsed into a state of semi-consciousness ; 

 and the thought of trying to pull up his impetuous steed had 

 never once entered his head. Clinging tenaciously to his saddle, 

 and heedless of the cries which were levelled at him bv the 

 forward contingent, the Huntsman, and the Whips, as he shot 

 past them, to " Hold hard ! " — on he went, now on sound turf, 

 now in the deep, holding, peaty bottoms, where the ' plunk, 

 plunk ' of his horse's feet sent the water flying up into his 

 face at every stride. A mile or two was traversed in this stjde, 

 our hero, most unwillingl}', ' setting the field.' Two or three 

 of the smaller dykes had been duly negotiated b}' Marmion, 

 an agonized " oh ! " from the rider escaping him at each. 



