A Sportsman at Large 167 



ing close to the victim's tail (I don't think the wolf's caudal 

 appendage can be dignified with the term " brush "), pins 

 him, and then the other two dogs join in and help to hold him 

 down. 



The mounted chasseur, who has been following as closely 

 as may be, now rides up, dismounts, and produces a round 

 wooden staff about a foot in length, to each end of which 

 is attached a leather thong. This instrument is thrust 

 between Mr. Wolf's jaws, and the thongs tightly fastened 

 around his head and neck. His feet are shackled, and then 

 he is tossed into a cart, taken back to the enclosure from 

 whence he came, and released, to fight it out another day. 

 Of course, both borzois and chasseur are occasionally awarded 

 very nasty slashes from the sabre-like teeth of the wolf ; 

 but, so the Prince told me, the dogs and man are so clever 

 and adroit that they generally come through unscathed. 



A very remarkable " personality " whom I came across 

 at the Monte Carlo Tir, and subsequently at other shooting 

 enclosures, was Baron Henri de Rothschild, of colossal build, 

 hirsute and dark. 



Not only was he a great sportsman and at times an extra- 

 ordinarily fine shot, but he was also a man of marked versa- 

 tility, a scientist, a litterateur and a playwright. 



At the time of writing, my friend Arthur Bourchier has 

 just produced a drama of the Baron's at the Strand Theatre, 

 London, which has caused a considerable sensation, especially 

 among the Harley Street " faculty," for the said play is 

 frankly aimed at the misdeeds of those black sheep which are 

 said to dwell in every fold yea, even in that which encloses 

 so many devoted philanthropists of the medical profession. 



When I first met the Baron at " Monte," we indulged in 

 a friendly little shooting match, in which I was allowed 

 several metres handicap, which, well as my opponent per- 

 formed, just enabled me to hold a winning hand. 



It was at the same entrancing spot that I met with " The 

 Hon. Lionel," of the same ilk, who, like myself, is a devout 

 lover of the children of the wild. As I knew " Mr. Leo " 

 on the Turf; "Mr. Jimmy" was a fellow clubman; as 

 I bumped up against " Baron Edouard " at " The Tables," 



