THE NORTH DURHAM COUNTRY. 11 



his horse just as the gate had been takeu off its hinges. As 

 the field came through (the fence was high enough to pi-event 

 one seeing what had taken place) they saw the huntsman laid 

 out flat on his back, hounds casting themselves over the field, 

 and the horse going away for all he was worth. The Master 

 was first to reach the fallen huntsman, and, after looking 

 at him for a moment, he turned round and said, " We must 

 all go home. Poor Henry's dead. Poor Henry " (he went 

 on), " he was a gallant fellow but he'll never hunt again." 

 And then, as he suddenly noticed that hounds had hit off the 

 line, his voice changed to a scream as he yelled, " For'ard 

 on ! For'ard on ! " Henry by this time was sitting up and 

 taking notice (he was not hurt at all, only a little dazed), 

 and probably Mr. Maynard, whose eyes were everywhere, had 

 taken in the situation; but the " For'ard on ! " on the top of 

 the soliloquy was undeniably funny. During the war Lord 

 Bute's plantations were cut down, but foxes are still to be 

 found in the odd bits of covert Vv'hich are left. 



South-west of Lord Bute's the North Durham country is 

 near the moors and very wild but the moors hereabouts are 

 what shooting men call " low moors," and, though undulating, 

 are not particularly steep. And what from a hunting point of 

 view is most important, foxes seldom go on to the moors, pro- 

 bably because they do not like travelling among heather. 

 There is a big and good covert named Catback, separated from 

 the open country by a strip of heather, and this is frequently 

 drawn; but though almost surrounded by heather, it stands 

 at the head of a grass valley, and foxes found therein generally 

 go down the valley, or cross the strip of heather, and reach 

 the regular country, which hereabouts consists of large 

 pastures of rough grass which are never ploughed, and which 

 carry a rare scent even in the driest weather. Down the valley 

 I mentioned just now is Foresters Lodge, a fairly large country 

 house, beautifully situated amid pine plantations, and with a 

 60-acre lake in front of it. The place is " extra parochial " 

 in that it is beyond the usual confines of the hunt but the 

 owner, Mr, Featherstone-Fenwick, acts as host to the North 

 Durham once or twice in every season, and there are generally 

 foxes in his young plantations, or at the adjoining covert of 

 Lumley Ling, and they frequently oro&s the narrow valley and 



