124 STAGHUNTING WITH THE 



minutes Anthony casts around for the Hne. Let 

 us seize the opportunity to jump on our second 

 horse, a trusty veteran this who has seen more 

 deer killed in her time than either you or I. 

 Surely that is a hound speaking somewhere, and 

 there he is, that is old Trueman up under the 

 southern wall of Exe Plain yonder, and he has 

 found the line and is hunting awav merrily all 

 bv himself. So sound your whistle, Sidney, and 

 call up Anthony from the depths of that lonely 

 ravine, and let us cram on the pack before 

 Trueman gets out of reach. How they speak to 

 it now, as they regain the line and sweep over 

 Exe Plain towards Blackpits Gate ! 



Quick to the crossing or thev will distance 

 us ; now over the road and away over the 

 swampy surface of Little Buscombe and Great 

 Buscombe. How horribly trappv the endless 

 gutters are, black and overgrown, with running 

 water at the bottom ! One after another they 

 come, some wide and visible, others narrow and 

 treacherous. But we must keep galloping all 

 the same and give the old mare her head ; she 

 has negotiated many a thousand of them and 

 won't deceive us now. All down the length of 

 Trout Hill we go, putting on steam a little 

 where the slope is in our favour. We have the 

 advantage of hounds now, as they bend to our 

 right into the upper part of Badgworthy Water, 

 On Little Tom's Hill just before us come two 



