THE NORTH DURHAM COUNTRY. 5 



v/as my first day with the pack," he said, " and I 

 knew nothing about the country, but was told to go to the 

 end of the wood (outside) and let eiveryone know if I saw a 

 fox. As I reached the corner I saw a brace, and I began 

 halloaing, and I halloaed while eighteen crossed the lane, but 

 hounds never came, for they were away on the other side 

 with another, and it took me an hour to find them." 



So much for the Sawmill Wood, but I may add that when 

 I was a boy living at Woodlands in the sixties, during the 

 joint mastership of Mr. John Henderson, M.P., and Mr. John 

 Harvey, we once had so many litters at Woodlands that we 

 dug out three of them, and I took them to the kennels at 

 Sedgefield for turning out in a part of the country where foxes 

 were not so numerous. I shall never forget the drive, for I 

 was alone in a Whitechapel dogcart, and the cubs, which 

 were tied up in sacks, were never still for a moment, but kept 

 up a perpetual heaving against my legs. It must be under- 

 stood that in the 'sixties the North and South Durham packs, 

 as now constituted, were one and the same pack, with a kennel 

 at Sedgefield for their southern country, and a kennel at Elvet 

 Moor (Farewell Hall) for their northern country. And 

 curiously enough the new kennels which Mr. Rogerson built 

 on the Mount Oswald estate some fifteen years ago are 

 only separated by a country lane from the old Elvet Moor 

 kennels, discarded forty years ago. The house is now occupied 

 by Mr. Rogerson's kennel huntsman. 



Going back to the physical features of the North Durham 

 country, it should be explained that there is a country lane, 

 four miles long and called " Long Edge," between Browney 

 Bank and Rowley Station, and hounds cross it often half a 

 dozen times a day, for it bisects the best of the country. It 

 also bisects the Woodlands estate, the most westerly coverti of 

 which is Sheepwalks, the starting place of many fine hunts 

 some years ago, but now too thin to hold any but an occasional 

 fox, though the adjacent whin covert is an almost sure find. 

 Of Sheepwalks I have a curious recollection which may not be 

 out of place here, though it is entirely personal. Well, then, 

 it must be understood that one afternoon in the winter, during 

 l^Ir. Maynard's mastership, I was riding quietly between the 

 Derwent Valley and Rowley on my way to Broomshields, 



