Draorhounds 1 1 1 



What would it be if a liundred or two of 

 impatient sj)ortsmen were waiting tlieir turn 

 at the "jumpable" places in the first fence? 



But what glorious fun it is when once you 

 are off ! You know hounds are not going to 

 stop ; there is none of that horrible quaking 

 one experiences during a run with foxhounds, 

 that scent will fail and the gallop abruptly 

 terminate. And if you exercise common care 

 to see that you ride in the track of hounds, 

 you know you can't be turned over by that 

 now, alas ! almost universal curse, wire. On 

 you go, speeding over the grass nicely, in 

 the wake of the flying pack, with perhaps 

 only a dozen men around you. A thorn 

 fence, which can be taken anywhere, permits 

 you all to spread, fan-like, each to the spot 

 he has been selecting ever since the obstacle 

 came into view. One after the other you all 

 get over, except that gentleman to the left 

 there, who didn't jump when his horse did. 

 He now " sits on the floor," whilst his rider- 

 less nag continues the wild fun of the chase 

 on its own account. Now you jump into and 



