166 THE SOUTH DEVON HUNT 



persevered, and ultimately put a terrier into the drain 

 in Kiddens, where he remained an unconscionable 

 time. Probably he found it warmer underground and 

 went to sleep while we shivered above. At last we 

 left him and went on with the intention of drawing 

 Oxencombe. It was now one o'clock and snowing 

 hard, and the plain of Haldon was already white. 

 Finding that the field had all left, I induced Gery 

 (who, to do him justice, was keen enough) to take 

 the hounds home, and then started homewards 

 myself by way of the Race Stand as being the most 

 direct route. By this time a hurricane was raging, 

 driving the snow before it in fine powder without 

 allowing time for the formation of snowflakes, and 

 this characteristic of a true blizzard doubtless 

 accounts for the name by which this storm is still 

 remembered. 



On the high exposed ground of Haldon its full force 

 was felt, and it was impossible to raise one's eyelids. 

 The cold was intense. My thick hunting-coat felt 

 like a silk racing-jacket. I was riding a thorough- 

 bred mare, half-sister to Robert the Devil, that would 

 have cantered the dozen miles home well within the 

 hour under normal conditions. But the inequalities 

 of the ground being hidden by the snow, which in 

 addition was balling frightfully, precluded anything 

 beyond a slow walk, and the journey in consequence 

 took four times as long as it should have done. The 

 changed aspect of things and the difficulty of seeing 

 made me miss the usual crossing below the race- 

 course, but we got through at another spot, which 

 was lucky. All this while, I was anxious about my 

 friend, Mr. Fred Davies, now Lieut. -Colonel F. G. H. 

 Davies of the Guides, thinking he might be attempt- 

 ing to return by the way we had come over Haldon 



