210 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



Now Major Wise had a bye day on St. Stephen's 

 Day when he drew Knock "f^^ierna, otherwise known 

 as the Bla^ Hill It is a stragghng place, taking 

 hours to draw thoroughly. 



Here just as he found, he came across the 

 Ballingary Foot Dogs, also out on the holiday for 

 their day's sport. It was a bleak grey day with a 

 piercing wind and scarcely any scent. 



The foot dogs joined joyously in the chase 

 and there was nothing to be said. 



Our hounds would hold it on the heather, but 

 when scent seemed absolutely to die away crossing 

 one of the bare tracks which run along the hill, 

 or on a road as they hunted round and round, one 

 of the foot dogs would straggle out, and presently 

 the long yow ow ow of the beagle or harrier would 

 proclaim, *' Here it is. Come along. I've got it." 



After an hour's twisting and turning they killed 

 their fox, the bleak stony old hill ringing to shouts 

 and the twang of the horn. 



Then the Master of the foot dogs stepped for- 

 ward. 



"And now. Major," he said, "if you will go to 

 the wesht side of that thorn hedge and blow ye're 

 bugle, and I'll blow mine here, an' we'll divide 

 the dogs." 



These same hounds put a fox on foot this year 

 on Black Hill, trailed off after him despite laud- 

 able attempts to stop them. They were out for 

 hares and finally killed that fox alone at Dromard , 



