NORTHAMPTONSHIRE 6i 



as soon as they see him — often turn him right away from 

 his course, and then tread over his trail and steam over 

 his line. Sheep huddle up, scour away for a while, then 

 perhaps turn to scamper wonderingly after — having cast 

 a blight over the whole pasture. Directly hounds appear, 

 both cattle and sheep come trooping round them ; and 

 not only is scent completely wiped out, but the pack is 

 often brought up for want of room. Without cattle, 

 without sheep — and without a field, if you will have it 

 so — no doubt a good pack of hounds would kill many 

 more foxes, and would change foxes far less. But there 

 they are, all three ; and a huntsman has to circumvent 

 them as best he can. A quick, self-reliant man will use 

 his discretion freely as to helping — or at least encouraging 

 — hounds onward at once. A master of the art, like 

 Frank Beers, could do it without ever getting their heads 

 up — and so can many another. Similar action is often 

 needed where a flock of crows or starlings have foiled the 

 line ; and may be on occasion quite as legitimate, quite 

 as necessary, where " a bit of cold plough " renders 

 hounds suddenly and hopelessly helpless, as on many 

 days it undeniably will. You have seen it so only too 

 often during the fag end of '91 — the worst scenting period 

 dealt out to us for years past. 



It is mortifying to the utmost when, after running 

 hard upon the grass for a mile or two, hounds are sud- 

 denly pulled up by a few acres of sticky plough — across 

 whose surface their fox has gone, as it were, upon clogs, 

 to shake off the encumbrance immediately he regains the 

 turf beyond, and to speed away in the distance while they 

 spell their way a yard at a time, if at all. No plough- 

 team is at work, no shrill-toned urchin is tenting crows : 

 the outlook is clear and the horizon is still : Reynard's 

 line is pronounced indubitably into mid-field : he must 

 have gone on, and the moments are very precious. But 

 the mud " carries " like cobbler's wax ; and only here 

 and there can an old hound fling the note of authority. 

 On a sinking fox let them alone : on a lively, fresh-found 

 fox, no — very often no. 'Tis a hundred to one he is for- 

 ward. Give him the credit, anyhow. " Believe every 



