THE LIFE OF A HUNTER 6i 



did not come down, and to my owner's 

 delight won the Drag. 



I never felt any charm at the gates in 

 Cambridgeshire ; they are quite insignificant 

 compared with those in Yorkshire. Big 

 timber was never my forte, but it would 

 have been a very curious place that stopped 

 me. I always found some way of nego- 

 tiating an obstacle. I could go in and out, 

 off and on, top a fence, kick back, bore 

 throuofh, and climb like a cat. I have 

 trotted across a single plank over a stream, 

 and jumped a stile at the end of it. I have 

 followed my master on a single foot-bridge 

 over a ravine, wriggling through a V-stile at 

 each end, and could hold my own among 

 the wild hills and moors of Cleveland, or in 

 the most cramped of countries. I remember 



