CAPE FOXHOUNDS 

 for daybreak hunting ere the dew 

 has left the grass and the sun has 

 parched the scent. 



In less than an hour we have 

 reached the lonely little station, 

 and, after disembarking hounds and 

 horses, we jog away in the gathering 

 darkness over the two miles that 

 separate us from the village. Our 

 baggage we carry with us, as the 

 custom of the country is, in saddle- 

 bags. In a hollow in the open 

 downs we come upon the village, 

 and as we pass its single, long, tree- 

 shaded street, the men and house- 

 wives peer out from their lamplit 

 doors. We lodge both hounds and 

 horses in the stables of the single- 

 storeyed village inn, and here we find 

 a number of our hunting farmers 

 45 



