242 GOOD SPORT 



it a matter of difficulty to see very far ahead, and 

 this fact tends to urge on our wild career to get in 

 touch again. Drawing rein by the strong covert 

 with its stake-and-hound fence, we listen to catch 

 a sound, but, like phantoms of the night, our leaders 

 have vanished, leaving no evidence but feet mark- 

 ings and a few established gaps. Pressing forward, 

 the heart as well as the steam rather out of us, 

 we ride the grass fields at a sobered pace, looking 

 down into the glorious vale stretching away below 

 Market Overton up the valley towards Ashwell and 

 Oakham. Our horse gets a view a shade quicker 

 than we do ; the hunt-like specks in the distance are 

 down below, the select band of happy, hot riders 

 having pulled up. There is a momentary hover of 

 the pack, and then we see the hunt staff swing 

 from their saddles. It is an inspiriting picture and 

 instils new life, for with rousing energy the strag- 

 gling army press on down the hillside in time to 

 catch Ben Capell's triumphant Who-whoop ! and 

 the savage chorus of the pack. Another Coston 

 and Woodwell Head gallop has been put on record, 

 by no means the least interesting of mau)-^ good 

 hunts, for, after all, there is no time so happy as the 

 present. Well carried by Lord Roberts, a i6-stone 

 dark brown horse with a white face, the occasion 

 is one to be remembered for many a day to come, 

 though we were not always in the same parish 

 with hounds. 



