212 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



determined onslaught of the pack in the wrong 

 direction, where they made hfe hideous to an 

 active black Kerry cow. 



We whipped them off and got them to the hill 

 and away they went, but just as we were settling 

 down we met the deer looking for the baker's cart 

 and quite determined to get to it. With whips and 

 scorn he was again driven out, to trot along for a 

 mile or so, but this particular Benicia Boy had no 

 idea of exerting himself, so merely trotted round 

 once again and made for sanctuary. 



Denounced as the " Divil's pup " he was once 

 more interned in the baker's cart and the Master 

 had to consider the question of amusing his field. 



We, having travelled down by train to hunt 

 with him, were very much upon his conscience. 



A drag was promptly proposed, but the general 

 factotum and whipper-in had forgotten what he 

 called "the thrail." Something was tied up and 

 directions given to go to the nearest house and 

 steep it in " ile." 



After a further period of waiting, the man left 

 his horse as " dangersome to jump on when he'd 

 be alone " and started off at a trot telling us to 

 give him " twinty minnits." 



"He will take over fearsome sphots," we were 

 informed disconsolately, " because where he can 

 tear and scramble isn't where we can lep." 



Then hounds were laid on, vainly. Not a 

 whimper from them. One got away and chased a 



