DR. HENRY SEARLE GAYE 207 



and across the river and up the other side to Leusden School. 

 There I heard that hounds had gone over Corndon Tor, 

 pointing for Dartmeet, with Mr. Fearnley Tanner, ' Sol ' 

 Tozer and Collings in attendance. They turned right- 

 handed on Corndon Tor and came down by Corndonford 

 Farm and on past Lower Cator to Blackaton Manor (where 

 I caught sight of them after bucketing on the road from 

 Leusden School to Pondsworthy and Corndon Farm, gallop- 

 ing inside the circle), through Blackaton Newtake to Hamil- 

 down Beacon, across Coal Mires and along the side of 

 Hamildown above Bag Park, where Sol Tozer's horse, old 

 Greybird, rolled over with him, quite pumped. We had not 

 hunted for a fortnight on account of snow on the ground. 

 I had kept my horse, Badger, in wind by a gallop twice a 

 week in a foot of snow, and he was as fit as a fiddle. When 

 we came to the big wall on the top of Blackaton Newtake, we 

 found it buried in snow with the exception of about a foot at 

 the top. I led my horse over, and we both got the right side 

 at the expense of a roll. The pack ran on to Wood Pitts and 

 Natsworthy Gate, where I caught Collings, and thence across 

 Heytree Down to Hayne Down and sank the valley by Hound 

 Tor Farm to Leighon Gate, and the fox ran the road to old 

 Tom Winser's at Beckaford, where hounds checked for the 

 first time since leaving covert. Collings fumbled with his 

 horn as if about to handle hounds, and then, in a sort of 

 aside partly to himself and partly to me, muttered : ' Damme ! 

 Master Willie. I don't know where he has gone — ^I'll leave 

 'em alone ! ' As he said the words, the pack hit off the line 

 out of the road, carried it over the fence right-handed above 

 Leighon House and along over Smallacombe Rocks, where 

 they were at fault again. Collings asked me to push on and 

 keep an eye for'ard, and, luckily, I was in time to see Prior (by 

 the Belvoir Proctor — Their Gossip) pick up the line towards 

 Holwell Tor. A holloa to Collings, and the pack was racing on, 

 hackles up, to Holwell Tor, where we heard the hounds baying 

 round a corner of the tor. I jumped off to run (the ground, 

 as you know, is not choice !).^ ' Damme ! ' said Collings, 

 ' I shall ride all the way,' and he tried to, but his horse, old 



^ The ground around the tor is thickly strewn with granite rocks. 



