324 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Seasox 



Queniboro'. llunning well again over grass, picking it slowly 

 over liard-baked fallows, the}' nearly reach the village of the 

 needlespire ; turn to Barkby ; hunt up to their wearied quarry 

 in the park of Barkby Hall ; and jump upon him at the spot of 

 the Meet — in honour of the good sportsman who bade us 

 welcome, and Avhose chief thought is ever for the interests of 

 the Plunt. L'iftj'-seven minutes was the reckoned time start to 

 kill ; and to have achieved such a run on such a day was indeed 

 a triumph, and a boon unexpected. 



Not the least extraordinary part of the run was the perform- 

 ance of a twelve-hand pony, rough and unridden — who, escaping 

 from a grass field, cut down all the hard men of the Quorn by 

 riding in Firr's footsteps from Scraptoft Gorse to Barkby Holt 

 — and on to the death ! 



All through the dust and sun which prevailed during the 

 three later weeks of jNIarch there was a scent quite inconsistent 

 with such conditions. It seldom happened but that liounds 

 could run — generally fairly, sometimes well. And as foxes are 

 much the greater sufferers under the heat, and consequently 

 were unable to travel away from their pursuers, there Avas as 

 much slaughter achieved last month as at any period of the 

 season. Blood is the huntsman's object, 'i'lie process of his 

 efforts for it form the source of our interest ; and his success 

 is almost an equal delight to us. Thus, in spite of summer 

 days and dusty winds, we saw foxes limited up and killed, and 

 had a " vast o' fun " by the way. There was a drawback that 

 forced itself home to many of us, and protrudes itself now 

 whenever the stable is visited. AVe could harden our hearts for 

 a fall, but we could not harden our horses' legs, and the 

 casualties among the latter have been as pronounced as the 

 fatality to ft)xes. It may fairly be set down that March has 

 done more damage to studs and pockets than all the rest of 

 this varied season. For the last Aveek or so, in place of 

 galloping the driest ridge, your aim was ever to secure the 

 dampest furrow. But, pick your i^lace as cleverly and care- 

 full}' as you could, you never knew how iron bound was the 



