The Hunting Year 



by their cry that hounds were again in the 

 river. A momentary pause on the river-bank, 

 and then they began to run as they don't often 

 run in March. They crossed the bottom of 

 the field we were in, and then for forty bright 

 minutes — minutes which will ever live in the 

 memory — we had them to ourselves. We were 

 both down, but what did that matter so long as 

 we were up and going again without much loss 

 of time, and just as the sun was sinking below 

 the horizon, hounds rolled their fox over in the 

 open as the huntsman and some half-dozen good 

 men and true turned up. And the fox had 

 taken us homewards, and this time it was my 

 friend the huntsman who had the eighteen miles 

 ride home on a tired horse after six o'clock! 



There will be many litters of cubs about 

 before the end of March if it is a forward 

 season, and the man who takes an interest in 

 the animal life of the country may hear and see 

 much that will be of service to him in improving 

 his knowledge as he rides to the fixture or as 

 he comes home. The keeper has generally a 

 word to say that is worth listening to, and there 



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