2l6 IRISH SPORT AND SPORTSMEN. 



their hounds in as classical dog-language as if they had taken their 

 degrees under Jack Musters himself, or matriculated in the Quorn 

 kennel. 



"When the much-admired, the beautiful, and dearly beloved 

 English pack went to the ' dogs' the owner of the little Irish curs 

 got the hunting of a great part of the country in which the defunct 

 club had long played the part of the dog in the manger. He 

 commenced the season with a pack short as to numbers, his effec- 

 tive strength being only twenty-eight couple. With this small 

 force he took the field under the further drawback — owing to his 

 having few coverts to draw — of having more frequently used them 

 as harriers than foxhounds, though sometimes guilty of the sole- 

 cism of finding his fox in a bag. However, a few thrashings made 

 them as staunch as if they never stooped to the trail of a hare in 

 their lives, and he has not had a single blank day as yet. I had 

 the pleasure of hunting with him for a few days ; and while I was 

 anything but enjoying the otiiim entailed on me for my sins by a 

 severe attack of the influenza I attempted the following sketch of 

 a day's sport : — 



" On my first appearance at the covert-side with this, the mer- 

 riest pack I ever rode to, the meet was at Lemlara, the residence 

 of the county member. The draw was blank, the morning wet and 

 cold, and not a drop to cheer us. This unpromising state of afi"airs 

 sent a lot of feather-bed sportsmen from the sweet city of Cork 

 home to their clubs. The field, which was before rather numerous 

 than select, was now reduced to about ten well-mounted men in 

 scarlet, that looked as if they could 'ride a bit.' Our next draw 

 was Dundullerick glens, and while the hounds were going down 

 we got a caulker of real cherry-bounce, which the rawness of the 

 morning made most acceptable. The little ones were not long in 

 the covert — a beautifully planted, deep, and rocky glen — when 

 they opened on a drag in a style that left no doubt as to our finding. 

 The cry in the glen was rtie finest I ever heard, and was sent back 

 to us by a hundred echoes. But this did not last long, for our fox 

 broke away in gallant style, like a prime one that despised dodging, 

 heading due north, the wind at the time blowing a cold south- 

 easter. He had scarcely a minute's law when every hound in the 

 pack was out of covert, all settling to their work, heads up and 

 sterns down. As this (if you please, Mr. Editor, to print it) will 

 meet the eyes of many who know the country well, I shall give the 



