320 THE CKEAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Sr.ASox 



Wild's Lodge — some two miles from Melton, whose denizens 

 might well congratulate themselves that they had to travel no 

 fm-ther against the driving wind and ceaseless rain. Indeed, a 

 morning to all appearance less favourable to foxliunting could 

 not be conceived. I'he glass was falling as rapidl}- and 

 steadily as the rain itself; sky and air were ji regnant with 

 storm ; and the prospects of sport were apparently hopeless. 

 Witness the result, and pay no further heed to weather or the 

 chapter of probabilities, where foxhunting is concerned ; but 

 go out whenever you have a horse ; and let frost, or funds, 

 alone have a voice in dissuading you. It ma}^ be that that 

 tyrant Frost is now making us reparation for the hardships we 

 have siiffered at his hands ; and that the wondrous scent to 

 wliieh, day after day and amid all other vagaries of Aveather, we 

 ari' now treated, may in the main be owing to his cleansing, 

 purifying effect. On Saturday the Cottesmore ran hard all 

 (hn/ ; and their foxes cared as little for the direction of the 

 wind, as hounds cared for its presence. They began with a 

 desperate forty minutes from the Punchbowl, which ended b}^ 

 the body of the pack getting on to a brace of fresh foxes, who 

 turned down wind again in company — while five couple went 

 on to show that their run fox had escaped into a gravel-pit- 

 earth. So deep was the ground tliat the first two miles of steej) 

 undulating grass and plough were enough to stop anytliing 

 tliat had known a dealer's yard within six months ; and before 

 the burst was over the line was dotted with exhausted horse- 

 flesh. Only a few of a large field started to ride on good terms ; 

 and no others could ever gain a yard. There had already been 

 two pumping circles round the precipices of Little Dalby and 

 the Punchbowl ; when the run began suddenly at the same 

 point whence started the great gallop in the fog, of last season. 

 There were some thirty starters across the road where the 

 Leesthorpe Bottom runs nearly to the base of the Punchbowl. 

 The wired difhculty has been broken down ; and twenty men 

 took the right of the stream, the others the left along the 

 plough. The latter had to jump across again as quickly as 



