82 SPORTING STORIES 



ahead, neither to ride more than lOO yards along the 

 road, every gate to be locked, and no fences cut down." 

 The ground selected was from Tadpole Copse to Lyssal 

 Hill (near Eyeworth), over the water, Eaton Vale, with 

 the bullfinches, gates, and two brooks to boot. The only 

 guide-posts were a flag on Lyssal Hill and another in Cold 

 Harbour road, and the riders had to reach the goal as best 

 they could. The pair met in scarlet coats and hunting- 

 caps at Cold Harbour ; Jem with five horses to select from, 

 and a goodly allowance of shot to make up the required 

 weight of 13 st. As soon as he had arrived at the brow 

 of the hill and learnt the line, he determined to ride 

 his old chestnut mare. But the history of the run had 

 better be told in Jem's own words. 



" The first fence," begins he, " was a double post and 

 rails. We both sat and looked at it. You see, I wanted 

 to find out whether he'd take his own line or follow me, 

 I said, ' This won't do. Come, you have at it first.' He 

 said, * No ; if you can't have it, I can't ! ' So, as it was no use 

 staying there all day, I turned the old mare's head, and she 

 popped in and popped out again. He followed, and came 

 over very prettily. The next fence was a great bullfinch 

 with a ditch. We got over that very well ; then I said, 

 ' Mind your next fence ; we shall both fall.' It was a 

 stiffish fence — a post and a rail — with a hedge and bank 

 to clear. He said, as we were coming to it, ' Don't let us 

 kill one another, Jem ; I won't ride on you if you won't ride 

 on me.' I said, ' Give me plenty of room, and give him 

 pepper.' My mare cleared nine-and-twenty feet, and his 

 horse twenty-nine and a half, we sent 'em at it with such 

 force. I never saw a man so high in the air before. I 

 could see Mr Horrocks's horse's shoes glittering above my 

 shoulder. Then came the gate to Cold Harbour road. 

 I said, ' Mr Horrocks, which of us shall have it first ? ' He 

 said, ' You do.' But we went over together, side by side, 

 our boots nearly touching. Same way through the bull- 

 finch ; out of the lane like a bullet. 



" Then we had some small enclosures with very big 

 fences — what I call creepers. My old mare, she goes the 

 same pace all the way. The country was tremendously 



