A WET, WILD GALLOP 461 



upon one's face. Open drains, too, frequently crossed the 

 route ; for the Forest, however primeval in its general 

 character, is carefully tended in the interests of the public, 

 supertlous water being directed off, the bogs all eliminated 

 from its grassy ways, bridge or ford established wherever 

 needed, and the timber tended in accordance with the best 

 principles of forestry. 



But we are running hard, now down the broad, sound 

 rides, the waterplash enveloping some fifty people as with 

 a wet cloud. They are all habited for a damp day ; and 

 it matters little that their features soon become almost 

 indistinguishable beneath the black forest-mud. Now the 

 trees disappear as we bear upward and leftward ; and the 

 giant holly-bushes remain the only hindrance to an open 

 course. These again are cleared, and the hillside stands 

 forth, heatherclad to girth-level. Over this the big hounds 

 heartily fiing, crossing the open at hot speed, till, passing 

 above Broomy Lodge, they plunge into Broomy Wood. 

 Another and a wider stretch of heather beyond, and, 

 over this, five couple of hounds racing onward, headed 

 conspicuously by one nearly white in colour. Mr. 

 Heseltine and Mr. Soames were quickest in pursuit of 

 these — if need be, to stop the light-coloured hound running 

 singly ahead. But Mr. Lascelles had seen more. Against 

 the sky-line in front he had caught sight of some three or 

 four deer disappearing before hounds. The hunted buck 

 could scarcely ^q with these. So with Mr. Walker and 

 the huntsman he looked round for another line ; and forth 

 it came to the full tone of several couple of trusty throats, 

 the two lines crossing the open hill almost parallel to each 

 other, and entering the wooded enclosure of Milkham 

 about half a mile apart. Leftward galloped the earlier 

 couples, with Mr. Heseltine alongside, through Milkham 

 over the plain again to the edge of Bratley and through 

 the adjoining enclosure of Sluflers, thence still more left- 

 ward again across the heath, till, no horn appearing, he 

 stopped them on their way back to Anses Wood and the 

 Powder Factory — forty-five minutes of the best of forest- 

 going to the stoppage, not a bog, not a moment but with 

 hounds close at hand and in slight. 



