192 Memoir of Tom Smith, 



ing oyer a hard parclied-up soil, lie probably 

 flattered himself that he could give us all the 

 slip. He had, however, reckoned without his 

 host; for Tom Smith was of another mind. 

 The scent, it is true, was often lost^ but as often 

 hit off again by most masterly forward casts. 



In vain did sly Eeynard try every artful 

 dodge. The turf he liked not, the fallows 

 would not do. The hounds stuck to him in 

 covert, through Wallop, Stoke, and Erookes' 

 Woods. He tried to ring it back to Stoke 

 Down Gorse ; and next — apparently as a 

 last resource — seemed to make for "Waltham 

 Chase, taking in his way Soberton race-course 

 Down. 



His previous cii'cuitous flight, together 

 with a check or two which had recently oc- 

 curred, enabled the greater part of the field 

 to come up, as the hounds hit him well off 

 again, on the northern side of the race- course, 

 when a scene took place such as is seldom 

 recorded in the annals of the chase. 



