232 THE NEW FOREST 



Well, we went on with a certain but failing 

 line for another mile till we came to a big holt, 

 a strong place, very near the head of the stream. 

 Some of us knew of this and it was the ace up 

 the sleeve of one or two weary souls and he 

 was not there ! No, he was not. Although some 

 of the younger hounds marked rather strongly, 

 yet it was only old stale, constant scent, and the 

 ancient wise-heads of the pack, after a first and a 

 second try, absolutely discarded it. Against that 

 solemn contemptuous verdict there is no appeal. 



But the old huntsman I really think the least 

 tired of all of us held them forward, and in a 

 quarter of a mile, old " Harlequin " " set," and 

 chopped, in a hedgerow, the otter that had led 

 us this tremendous dance, before she ever was on 

 her feet before the hounds. 



From point to point of this hunt (it was not a 

 "run" in any sense of the word) was eight miles, 

 but as the hounds ran it, it was about thirteen 

 miles. And this represents the night's workings and 

 travelling of a little bitch otter, no more than 14 Ib. 

 weight, that is stuffed in my hall to this day. 



Truly the habits and vagaries of otters are 

 difficult to understand, and it is this very thing 

 that makes otter-hunting such a fascinating abs- 

 truse sport, so difficult from all other hunting, and 

 so interesting in its many details. 



