A. 



io6 HISTORY OF THE YORK AND A/XSTY HUNT. 



'The fox had broken within two hundred yards of us, and 

 'not a soul saw him. There is no mistake about it this 

 ' time. Those who know they have blood and condition fit 

 'to cross land up to their knees and hocks, take hold of 

 ' their nags and go straight at the boundary fence, a rough 

 ' hedge and wide drain on the landing side. Those who 

 ' doubt their capability (much the larger portion, by the 

 ' way), make for the gate in the corner, and race up a field 

 ' road that would be called heavy going in any other 

 ' country. There is a line of gates, but no time to open 

 ' them, for not a hound has spoken, and they are streaming 

 'away as though tied to their fox, so there is nothing for it 

 ' but to pull out on 'the land, and charge the fences by the 

 ' side. A man on a chestnut wants the fence, his mare 

 ' prefers the gate, so they compromise the matter by taking 

 ' the post in their stride, luckily without a spill. By Brocket 

 ' Hagg we speed, the pace still faster and faster. The fences 

 ' don't look very large, but, unaccountably, men come down 

 ' at them, and falls are as plentiful as blackberries in 

 'autumn. Riding to the hounds — except for a very few of 

 'the best mounted — is out of the question. Every one 

 ' takes the firmest line he can find, and those who attempt 

 ' to cross wheat land are lucky if they can raise a trot. 

 ' Copmanthorpe Wood is reached, passed, and on to Colton 

 ' Hagg they sail, luckily hanging there a little — a very 

 ' little — but just enough to let a few, who could not quite 

 ' live in the first flight, get with them again. It was said 

 ' afterwards they here divided, another fox being seen, and 

 ' despite our drawing it in the morning, I am inclined to 

 ' think so, for it appeared a short pack came away. Out 

 ' they are, however, and pointing as though he meant 

 ' Askham Bogs ; but, like the first fox, he is headed, and 

 ' turns to the right for Copmanthorpe, down a green lane, 

 ' which even the best are glad to take advantage of A 

 'moment they waver; but ere the horses are pulled from 

 ' their stride, three couple top the fence, drop their sterns, 

 ' and are racing once more for Copmanthorpe Wood. A 

 ' green lane luckily again serves us for a few hundred 

 ' yards, and a loose horse or two are to be seen amongst 

 ' the division that will ride the direct line. One horse, 

 ' unable to get his forelegs out of the deep ground, comes 



