192 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



selves more than I, it was certainly a pity that they nad 

 not stayed at home. Where was this going to end r and 

 — but what was the matter in front ? They paused, and 

 then suddenly all turned round and charged back along 

 the narrow path. I was taken by surprise, and got out 

 of the way as best I could, pulling my horse back amongst 

 the trees, and the whole cavalcade rushed past me. Out 

 of the wood, across the road, over the opposite hedge, 

 most of them ; some turn off towards a gate to the right 

 and away up the rise beyond, passing over which they 

 were soon out of sight. 



That The Sultan's efforts to follow them had been 

 vigorous I need not say ; but I felt that it was a moment 

 for action, and pulled and tugged and sawed at his 

 mouth to make him keep his head turned away from 

 temptation. He struggled about amongst the trees, and 

 I felt that, under the circumstances, I should be justified 

 in hitting him on the head. I did so ; and shortly after- 

 wards — it was not exactly that I was thrown, but circum- 

 stances induced me to get off rather suddenly. 



My foot was on my native heath. I was alone, appre- 

 ciating the charms of solitude in a degree I had never 

 before experienced ; but after a few minutes of thankful- 

 ness, the necessity of action forced itself on my mind. 

 Clearly, I must not be seen standing at my horse's head 

 gazing smilingly at the prospect — that would never do, 

 for the whole hunt might reappear as quickly as they 

 had gone ; so, smoothing out the most troublesome 

 creases in my nether garments, I proceeded to mount. 

 I say " proceeded," for it was a difEcult and very gra- 



