90 HUNTING IN MANY COUNTRIES. 



to try tlie Muggleswick earths, turn away from the fires, cross 

 the river to the Badger Wood, and break into the open towards 

 Durham Field. The crossings at the Sneep are not good for 

 the field, except the most western one near the Horse Shoe. 

 This is deep at times, but has a gravel bottom, and is kept 

 free from big stones. A mile below at Lead Mill there is a 

 terribly awkward crossing, the river being deep, with many 

 holes, and great boulders of rock in the middle of the stream, 

 which are being constantly moved by the flow of water when 

 the stream is in flood. This crossing is oftenest the place 

 which must be used if one is to keep with hounds, for it is 

 on the direct line between the Sneep and the Horsley Hope 

 Covert, and on every Sneep day foxes travel past it or cross 

 the river near it when hunted. The Master has a fine oil 

 painting of the pack and hunt staff crossing the Derwent at 

 the Horseshoe Point, by Cuthbert Bradley; but when this 

 crossing is used a. climb of several hundred feeti toi the top at 

 Muggleswick must follow, and as a matter of fact there are 

 hereabouts a couple of miles of riverside country much more 

 likei the' combesi of thei Devon and Somerset country than any- 

 thing to be found elsewhere in these northern hunts. At 

 Crooked Oak farm, on the north side of the river, above the 

 Horseshoe Point, there is a fine coign of vantage which com- 

 mands all the wooded cliffs, and which in a huge majority of 

 cases is the f-tarting point for hunts which coime from the Sneep. 

 But on a cold day in midwinter it is a cheerless spot, which 

 produces' laid-back coats and tucked-in tails. Hereabouts 

 second horses are walked up and down the lane, and foot fox- 

 hunters collect just as they do when tuft hunters are at work 

 in a Devonshire' combe. jNIotors and pony oars also' affect, the 

 spot, and once I had a first-rate hunt on wheels from Crooked 

 Oak. It was in 1883, and for the time being I had nothing 

 to ride; but I owned an old thoroughbred who was just 

 recovering from a sore back. He was not quite ready for the 

 saddle, and was an awkward horse to drive, being a jibber, 

 and an occasional bolter; but he did well that day, for his 

 blood was up, and all the trouble I had was to hold him. 

 Hounds had met at Castleside, and the field were at Combe- 

 field House when a fox broke on Crooked Oak farm. No rider 

 was within a mile, and all had to cross at Lead Mill, by which 



