The Hunting Year 



Yes, the end is at hand, and though there 

 have been exceptions, hunting in March is a 

 weariness of the flesh. A peck of March dust 

 may be and is worth a king's ransom to the 

 farmer, but to the hunting man it is nothing but 

 unalleviated misery. It blinds him, it makes his 

 eyes smart; and unfortunately it ruffles his 

 temper. 



And there is excuse for this, for on those few 

 occasions when hounds run like " greased 

 lightning " in a March wind, and I have known 

 them to do so now and again, the blustering 

 wind makes it difficult to hear what is taking 

 place, and the sportsman, unless he is absolutely 

 taking the greatest and keenest interest in what 

 is going on, may easily be " left " when the best 

 run of the month takes place. What men say 

 under such circumstances may be left to the 

 imagination. 



It may be said, and probably will be said, by 

 those who have not had much experience, that 

 it serves a man quite right who misses a run 

 by relaxing his attention. But this, though in 

 a certain sense true enough, is rather severe on 



140 



