64 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Skason 



and unrest, foxes seldom dwell in the woodlands to hear more 

 than one note, or to be greeted with more than one cheer. 

 Indeed, at no time is it safe to be dallying or coffee-housing 

 when Mr. Tailby's pack are at work in these sylvan depths. 

 Outsiders and time-servers are generally left behind, and 

 why ? Because they trust to chance rather than to themselves 

 for a start. The master and Ids regular disciples, on the 

 contrary- — such as Messrs. Gosling, Eobertson, Pennington, 

 Powell, &c. — are seldom if ever left in the lurch, for the simple 

 reason that the}'' hel]) themselves, never get out of liearing of 

 the hounds, and make up their minds to brave the muddy 

 quagmires of the rides, knowing well that the wind and laboui' 

 expended in getting off on good terms may almost invariably 

 be recovered when hounds face the open. It matters not to 

 them that they issue smeared and blinded with slush, when thej'' 

 receive complacentl}' the envious looks of their cleaner com- 

 rades at the end of forty minutes, in which a stern chase has 

 meant a hopeless one. On this occasion a wideawake fox 

 slipped off the instant he could catch the up-wind notice, and 

 broke at the top as soon as a hound had opened on tlie lair he 

 had left. There was just time to get round to the holloa as 

 the pack came bustling out with the determined vivacity of 

 their sex, each hound hurrying to the front and hating to be 

 behind her fellows. Over half a dozen fields into Lady Wood, 

 and on in the face of the wind into Owston Wood, was only the 

 work of ten minutes, the pack racing clear ahead, and no time 

 for opening a gate on the way. Too intimate knowledge of 

 country robs many a man of a good ride here, when he remem- 

 bers the big covert in front ; but the Tailbyites know the 

 scenting properties of the two -mile track, and always steeple- 

 chase over its big flying fences and rough old grass, as if each 

 man carried a fresh horse in his pocket. A plunge into Owston 

 Wood, moreover, is too often a preface to a yet deeper dip into 

 woodlands beyond, so they eagerly make use of the present ; 

 but to-day hounds carried the line through without dwell- 

 ing a moment, their field spreading some above and some 



