THE ZETLAND HUNT. 173 



Sawmill Wood at Woodlands, and two or three miles further, 

 climbing the steep hill to Cornsay village; while I also 

 remember breaking the top rail of a small timber fence 

 near the Monkey's Nest, and la,st. of all, hounds running 

 down the grassy slopes between High Brandon and Brance- 

 peth Castle. Mr. Jolin Harvey gave me the brush on that 

 occasion, and I remember my keen disappointment at dis- 

 covering it to be a badly mangled and very indifferent piece 

 of fox fur. 



So with the Zetland hounds. I have forgotten many days 

 that I had with them in the late 'seventies and early 'eighties, 

 but 1 have a most powerful recollection of a certain day in 

 the winter of 1883 or the following year. Which year this 

 hunt took place I cannot say for certain, and can only approxi- 

 mately fix the date because I know what horse I was riding. 

 Also I think it was midwinter, for there was snow on the high 

 ground, snow showers in the air, and an overnight frost. 

 The meet was at Greta Bridge, and I think it must have been 

 on a Thursday. John Greenwell and I boxed our horses to 

 Barnard Castle, and arrived at the meet to find a field of 

 not more than twenty, a, most remarkably small field for that 

 country, but the weather during the early part of the day 

 was atrocious. Anyhow, hounds drew the Rokeby Coverts, 

 and a^ lot of foxes were quickly on foot. They stuck to the 

 river banks for some time, but at length one went away due 

 south, and after a nice little hunt of half an hour or so stuck 

 at a, rabbit wire which surrounded a belt of young trees. 

 While hounds were breaking him up another fox left the belt, 

 and Champion quickly had hounds on. The exact line I do 

 not reonember, but we reached Sedbury after a time, and 

 Champion thought we changed foxes there. We then went 

 near Middleton Tyas, crossed into the Bedale countiry, and 

 the fox went to ground in a drain close to Pepper Hall — 

 now called Pepper Arden. " John " and I both got to the 

 end, but getting back to Barnard Castle was out of the 

 question, and on the advice of the late " Billy " rorsteir we 

 made for Darlington, stopping at Croft, and wiring to Bar- 

 nard Ca&tle for our bags and the horses rugs to be sent to 

 Darlington. On reaching the King's Head Hotel wei found 

 that to get ourselves and our horses back to Broomshields that 



