1874—75.] A BYE-DAY STOLEN. 151 



8cunT was well testified by the fact tliat out of" a Friday- field 

 there were only some lialf-dozen present to hear tlie who-whoop 

 at South Croxton Village — though, doubtless, the twisting 

 course and the sharp turn back from Lowesby Plantations (the 

 three points given being sufficient to explain the track) had 

 nnich to do with this. 



Another call being made on the Colonel's covert, another 

 start was soon effected, and soon crushed by a general rush 

 over the line. In a hot and sweltering mass the crowd pressed 

 forward, the oppressive heat of the atmosphere and their own 

 excitement working the whole assemblage up to boiling pitch 

 — amid which the huntsman alone appeared cool and undis- 

 turbed. And well it was he did ; for in no other condition 

 could he have achieved a run under present circumstances. 

 As it was he worked his hounds forward — while Mr. Coupland 

 strove his utmost to gain him a moment's law — once more 

 got on terms with his fox, and pushing him past Keyliam, and 

 past the left of Scraptoft Gorse, killed him in Mr. Tailby's 

 country near Houghton. A five-mile point and thirty-five 

 minutes in doing it. 



A BYE-DAY STOLEN. 



On Thursday, February 11th, the Quorn left off at Owston 

 Wood at 4.30 p.m., at the end of a bye day at Gaddesby. 



For several days a lingering frost had made hunting, even 

 when pronounced practicable, a matter of much difficulty, no 

 little danger, and very doubtful enjoyment — the call of duty 

 rather than pleasure bringing men each day to the covert side. 

 The morning in question was even more unpromising than its 

 predecessors. Snow still lay on tlie plough and on the roads, 

 while the gateways had ice in them that would almost bear 

 your horse's Aveight. So it took an hour or more of anxious 

 indecision, of consultation with groom, gardener, and a casual 

 baker on his rounds, the disheartening sentiments of each 



