130 THE COMPLETE SPORTSMAN 



I remember once following an imaginary fox 

 that we found just outside Potters Bar Station 

 at 11.13 a.m., and running him to ground at 

 3.7 p.m. the same afternoon in a tunnel not a 

 mile south of Leeds. I was so excited that I 

 could scarcely eat my luncheon in the dining- 



car, and my nervous fellow-passengers were so 

 astonished and alarmed by the play of facial 

 expression I indulged in after jumping a huge 

 post and rails north of Hitchin that they moved 

 to another compartment. My horse took the 

 bit between his teeth as we steamed into Luton, 

 and in my efforts to pull him up before he 

 jumped on any of the hounds, I suddenly rose 



