38 HUNTING IN MANY COUNTRIES. 



the pack, and the run which followed was just good enough 

 to cause a general all-round reconciliation. 



During the joint mastership hounds used to be three weeks 

 at the Sedgefield kennels and three weeks at the Elvet Moor — 

 or Farewell Hall as they were generally called — kennels, alter- 

 nately ; and during the three Sedgefield weeks there was no fox 

 hunting in North Durham, and then it was that hunting with 

 beagles and harriers had in a great degree to take the place of 

 the foxhounds. But John Greenwell, then a boy of about 

 fifteen, was living at Broomshields, and being tutored by the 

 rector of Lanchester, to whose house he rode when it suited 

 him — but not oftener. Indeed, he never thought of going 

 near the worthy rector on a hunting day, and his Saturdays 

 were, quite as a matter of course, devoted to sport. Very 

 eagerly we used to scan the meets of Mr. Cradock's hounds 

 (now the Zetland) for a Saturday meet within riding distance, 

 and if they met about Hamsterley, or anywhere within a 

 few miles of Witton-le-Wear we used to join forces at High 

 Stoop, and have at least a morning with these hounds. The 

 unfortunate thing for us was that Mr. Cradock's hounds 

 always began at the outside of their draw, and went down 

 country for their afternoon fox. Also, foxes found about 

 Hamsterley seemed to have a knack of going anywhere but in 

 our direction; but I remember on one occasion a very nice 

 hunting run which began at Brussleton, and which, after 

 covering a lot of country in nearly three hours, was ended by 

 a fox going into a drain just by the gate of Witton Castle, 

 and this meant that we could get home in a little over an hour. 

 Twice during this season I went to meets of the Durham 

 County in the Sedgefield country with my father, but on the 

 second occasion I jumped a fence on to a plough, which was 

 hidden, and lamed my pony badly. Luckily this happened 

 at the end of the season, but I remember the circumstance 

 well because of two things. First, this pony, said to be by 

 Sweetmeat, and most certainly thoroughbred, was the best 

 pony I ever rode, being almost of polo size and very fast, 

 and, secondly, when I had got the pony intO' a farmer's stable, 

 and the farmer had kindly administered first aid, I had to 

 walk some seven miles, from the neighbourhood of Great 

 Stainton to Darlington, before I found a veterinary surgeon 



