i84 STAGHUNTING WITH THE 



on his mellow horn to clear the way. Soon he 

 sees the fluttering signal yonder on Acmead, 

 and flies back for his pack, and one realises 

 that there will be a gallop shortly of no mean 

 order, 



'Tis 12-20 as the kennel doors fiy open and 

 the next few moments are a purgatory of dust 

 and heat, as the cavalcade pounds up the 

 sandy road to Hawkcombe Head ; but once out 

 on the Green Path 'tis not so bad, and as we 

 dip to the Weir Water we plainly see the 

 master and Sidney awaiting us with the stopped 

 tufters. There we hear tliat the two best stags 

 have been cut out and have leapt the old two- 

 wire fence into Kittucks. Through the narrow 

 hunting gate we hie with what patience we 

 mav, and with the same, hounds stoop to the 

 foil and are off with a scream and a whimper 

 at 12.^^. All across the green mossy expanse 

 of Kittucks thev go, racing for place, almost 

 mute in their headlong eagerness. The held 

 scatters in a moment. Some ford the water at 

 Three Coombes Foot, some struggle across the 

 green plain, some make a detour by Larkbarrow. 

 The deer have declined the new three-wire 

 sheep fence into Manor Allotment, and hounds 

 now lead us past Tom's Hill and away to the 

 North Forest. Xow, harden your hearts, my 

 masters, and come along 1 Pinford bog is as 

 hard to-dav as it ever was vet, and if the 



