240 STAGHUNTING WITH THE 



combes, oaks ancient and gnarled and lichen 

 covered, with bent and withered limbs and 

 grotesque shapes, the survivors of a thousand 

 winter gales, living a hard life indeed, and as 

 different as possible from their straight stemmed 

 relations in the sheltered combes inland. 

 Seagulls wheel and scream amid the rocks 

 below, while in these low boughs countless 

 pigeons roost in the winter nights, when the 

 southerly gales pass humming high overhead, 

 and this north coast lies sheltered. Amid the 

 ledges of rock and the overhanging ivy many 

 a cliff fox has his kennel, whence he steals 

 out at dusk to climb to the farm lands above, 

 secure that if he can only regain his un- 

 appoachable den no hound can ever follow 

 him and that the passing steamer's siren will 

 be the only horn that he will ever hear. 



The raven and the brown buzzard haunt 

 these solitary rocks, and an occasional pair of 

 peregrine falcons use certain benches which 

 are covered with a white debris of bones and 

 feathers. 



Descending these cliffs in pursuit of beaten 

 deer is only possible in certain places, but 

 once down it is a far more difficult affair to 

 regain the summit, where one's horse stands 

 patiently awaiting one's return. Hunting boots 

 are by no means suitable for cliff climbing, 

 and a heavy rain-sodden coat makes matters 



