HUNTING 231 



and out into the Forest, over a hill which is, for 

 that country, a considerable watershed. Over 

 that again the line led us to the head waters a 

 mere brook of the Lymington River, and down it 

 we went with a cheery cry, but at no great pace 

 at this hour of the day, nearly to Brockenhurst ; 

 a little before that place, the line turned up the 

 minor tributary which runs through the Forest 

 to Burley. This was so surprising, that old hands 

 like myself could not believe the possibility of 

 such a line ; I even ventured to have a word with 

 Mr. Collier, who told me he could so rely on the 

 hounds that were doing the work, that even if 

 the otter had gone to the nether regions, that 

 was the way he had gone. 



So indeed it was. We had a long tramp for 

 over five miles more to Burley, and I, for one, 

 supposed that we were bound for the river Avon, 

 three miles farther, the line getting fainter and 

 fainter as the sun rose higher and higher. And 

 oh ! what a cry of relief as my old groom and 

 second horseman following in a dog cart, by making 

 an enormous circuit and governed by his knowledge 

 of hunting, turned up most unexpectedly on a 

 track right across our path ! The contents of that 

 commissariat train were soon assimilated, and the 

 cider cup went down "like a band of music," as 

 the old Yorkshire keeper so graphically phrased it ! 



