396 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Season 



the last few minutes of the gallop, he was several times to be 

 seen in front of the pack. 



But fortunate and unfortunate alike now threw in their luck 

 together again ; and entered, or skirted, Owston Wood, full of 

 hope for the afternoon. In the still frosty air the huntsman 

 worked his way down its length ; and it must have been a dull- 

 eared or confident fox that waited to be found — for so clear 

 and quiet was it that each crack of the whip sounded like the 

 midday gim. Yet, when half the great covert had been worked 

 through, up he jumped right among the pack, whisked his 

 brush in their faces, and darted for the open — his head straight 

 for Melton in the distance. A very keen following was close 

 with hounds now. Nobody meant to be left behind a second 

 time to-da}' : and they trooped out of the wood with the best 

 of chances before them. But, alas, Rejniard's path was barred 

 in this promising du*ection ; and he doubled back upon the 

 whip, who was galloping to the cry. The scent was too 

 burning, and the pack too close at his great black brush, for 

 him to stay ; and he cut through the deej) muddy wood, to 

 break at once on the opposite, or Withcote side. Thus, while 

 the second whip went away for a merry dart by himself, the 

 baffled field had either to plunge slowly through the broad 

 middle ride or to swing round the road between the two woods. 

 In either case they only reached the other side, to find hounds 

 a full half mile before them, with Launde Wood as their pro- 

 bable destination. For once the macadam played a happy 

 part ; and threw in their faces a chance of Avhich mider no 

 other conditions could they have availed themselves. From 

 Withcote to Tilton Station ran the road. For Launde, Lod- 

 dington, or the chain of hilly woodlands ran Reynard. Some- 

 body, something — blessed be he or it — met him face to face ; 

 and drove him off at a tangent to Colborough Hill, the wooded 

 mound that stands over Tilton Station. Thus the frantic 

 galloping roadsters suddenly found themselves alongside the 

 flying pack. With a two mile rush they had cut off a segment 

 of a circle of not less than three ; and the best of the run was 



