22o THE SPORT OF KINGS 



over the line, and a check takes place. Looking 

 black as thunder, and venting, I am afraid, some 

 of his wrath on his whippers-in, our huntsman 

 proceeded to make his cast. A judicious cast it 

 was ; hounds hit off the line, and no sooner had 

 they done so than a gallant youth, wishing to show 

 his prowess to the partner of the preceding night, 

 and seeing a formidable jump suitable for his 

 purpose, rode at it in fine style like the plucky 

 fellow and good horseman that he is — and jumped 

 right into the middle of the pack, laming Saladin 

 and sending Merryboy and Tarquin squalling. Of 

 course, down came other three or four rash spirits 

 at the same place, and after that all our huntsman's 

 efforts to recover the line were futile. 



We soon found a fresh fox, and hounds got on 

 fair terms with him, but there was a repetition of 

 the same rash riding, and sport we had none. The 

 huntsman's face grew still more gloomy as he drew 

 covert after covert, sometimes finding a fox, to 

 lose him in a few fields owing to over-riding, and 

 then some very unlikely places were drawn blank, 

 and it was nearly three o'clock. The field had 

 sensibly diminished in size. Some of the rash 

 youths had got a ducking in larking over the 

 water which abounded in the country, and had 

 gone home. Others had begun to feel the effects 

 of the late hours, and grown tired of the moderate 

 sport, and those who remained were either old 

 stagers who were to be depended upon, or had 

 settled down a bit. Still, it would not do to run 

 any risks, so after consultation between the Master 

 and his huntsman, the latter set off" straight across 

 country for a distant covert. This gave the eager 

 ones something to do, for you may be sure he took 



