WILD STAG-HUNTING. 197 



" First let me tell my hard-riding readers, if I have the luck 

 to have such, that they must hy no means look for the quick 

 find and eager start that is so much appreciated in the grass 

 countries. The law is, in stag-hunting, that the oldest and 

 heaviest deer, generally synonymous terms, must be found, 

 hunted, and, if possible, killed. This is the true science of wood- 

 craft, as handed down to us for generations ; hence the necessity 

 of tufting, which I have so often heard abused and decried. 

 No doubt it is annoying to see deer after deer break covert and 

 the hounds stopped because the 'old stag,' well known b}'- the 

 harbourer to be there, refuses to make his appearance ; but if 

 those who go to meet stag-hounds would accept the tufting as a 

 part and parcel of the proceedings instead of as a mere pre- 

 liminary, as too many of them do, they would rejoice in the 

 skill of the men and the discipline of the hounds, which enables 

 one of the most difficult of sporting feats to be accomplished, 

 instead of looking on it simply as so much time wasted, and a 

 bore.' For those who have never hunted anything but carted 

 deer, it is almost impossible to conceive the cunning and 

 resources of an old stag to save himself from being forced from 



^ The harbourer's duties are thus described in an old work on hunting : — 

 " I am the Hunt, which rathe and early rise, 

 (My bottell filde with wine in any wise). 

 Two draughts I drinke, to stay my steps withall. 

 For each foote one, because 1 would not fall, 

 Then take my Hound, in liam me behind, 

 The stately Hart in fryth or fell to find. 

 And whiles I seeke his slotte where he hath fedde, 

 The sweet byrdes sing to cheare my drowsie head. 

 And when my Hound doth straine upon good vent, 

 I must confesse the same doth me content ; 

 But when I haue my couerts walkt about, 

 And harbred fast, the Hart for comming out ; 

 Then I returne to make a graue report, 

 Whereas I find th' assembly doth resort 

 And lowe I crouch before the Lordlings all. 

 Out of my Home the fewmets let I fall, 



