CHAPTER L 



IN THE WOODLANDS 



I am a woodland fellow, sir. — All's Well that Efids Well. 



One of the most curious things in connection with 

 fox-hunting is the wide divergence of opinion 

 amongst the rank and file as to what is or is not 

 a good country, and it has been my lot to hear a 

 fine open country spoken of slightingly, and the 

 wild fells and mountains of Cumberland and 

 Westmoreland extolled as the most sporting 

 countries in the world, though, bien extendu, it is 

 impossible to ride in them, and a man must be a 

 good traveller, as they say in the district, if he 

 sees anything of the sport. Similarly, one fre- 

 quently hears a man who has hunted in the Shires, 

 or in some locality nearly as favoured with wide 

 spreading pastures and small gorse coverts, speak 

 with barely disguised contempt of such and such a 

 country as a woodland country, and should any one 

 say of it that it is a good woodland country he 

 will give him an incredulous stare. 



Somehow it seems to have escaped the memory 

 of many hunting men that originally most hunting 

 was confined to the woodlands or wide open moors 

 and commons, and that the gorse covert is an 

 innovation of comparatively recent date. It is 



