I EVER SAW 217 



down into Baysdale, the hounds getting the 

 better of us. As we cross the enclosures by 

 Baysdale Abbey, the one solitary ploughman 

 in the out-of-the-world valley stops in his 

 work to look at the rare spectacle. 



" Have you seen him ? " I shout. 



" Ay ! a gurt greyhound fox." 



" How long since ? " 



" Seven minutes." 



Seven minutes, and hounds racing like 

 this ! Will they never check ? — no, they 

 never will, and some will never return to 

 the kennel again. The Abbey is passed in 

 one hour and twentv minutes from the find, 

 with only one momentary check, and the 

 mountain beyond looks impossible to nego- 

 tiate. I cross the stream, and begin the 

 ascent with a few tail hounds. They have 



