220 i886. 



March 27th.— 



We met at the Kennels and trotted straight 

 off to Compton Castle, where Mr. Rome's foxes 

 never fail. As usual, one was ready for us, and 

 we rattled him in the teeth of a strong wind, 

 almost a gale, to Littleton Hill, heading for 

 Cadbury Castle, turned left and over Corton 

 Hill, bearing back somewhat towards Sigwells 

 into Bristol Gorse, and thence really hard 

 up-wind to the Wheatsheaf Gorse, where, after 

 much suspense, he was marked to ground. A 

 long dig in driving rain ensued. Meantime we 

 found another fox hard by, ran him a short ring, 

 and killed him. He was so stiff that the Master 

 considered him to be the hunted fox of the 

 morning. The other fox by this time was dug 

 out and eaten also. After this we had a nice 

 gallop after a "stole away" fox from Ridge, 

 past Milborne Wick, towards Poyntington 

 Withybed, on for Holway, and over the Wheat- 

 sheaf once more nearly to Slates, but here we 

 came to a check, and the scent had got so 

 cold that perseverance was of no avail, and the 

 word was given for home. 



