1878—79.] CUB HUNTING. 255 



CUB HUNTING. 



Friday, November 1st. 



At twelve noon, or thereabouts, the Quorn arrived at 

 Bag-grave, to draw the Prince of Wales' Gorse. The blinds 

 were down at the Hall, the Colonel was away, and there 

 was no sideboard to rob the covertside, to tempt men to be 

 careless of a start, or to urge to extra-valorous riding. But 

 the main influence was present in plenty. One fox away, and 

 to ground in the first field (at an unknown and unguarded 

 drain) ; a second vulp off while the hounds were glued on a 

 third ; and the third to gi'ound w^here another opening 

 made the same drain available. Everybody bristled and rode 

 to the first alarm ; everybody did the same, and incurred the 

 hearty wrath of the Master, to the second ; while to the last, 

 a fully legitimate start, they all charged, with infinite 

 and various grief, a single fence that all had to jump back 

 again. 



Then three mortal hours of chilly, shivering, watchfulness — 

 a merciless north wind penetrating each waistcoat, the mercurial 

 properties of every flask gi'adually exliausted to zero, and the 

 busiest of cullers drained dry of even his November stories. 

 An obstinate hack — striving his utmost to rub his rider off and 

 hang him on the topmost branches of a bull-finch — gave ten 

 minutes' variety to the cold monotony ; and all hands turned out 

 to a flogging match, riding the hack into the open with whip 

 and holloa. This " divarsion " over, there was nothing for it 

 but to shiver, while, without a scent, hounds scrimmaged 

 hither and thither with the cubs in the low dense gorse — Firr 

 working his utmost to render the covert untenable. " Tallyho 

 over " in one quarter ; and voice and horn at once there to 

 take advantage of the view. " Tallyho over," immediately in 

 another — a perfect game of Blind Man's Buff. By 3.30 the 

 field had had enough of it ; and went home to get warm. Not 



