234 STRAY-AWAYS 



by the song, strengthened their hearts to go, and, 

 without considering whether it rained, hailed, or 

 blew, took over the hounds and what were left of the 

 horses, and " carried on." 



I have in mind a Hunt in an Irish county, in which, 

 what time the bugle blew the advance, the Master 

 " dug out " himself and such of his staff as were eligible, 

 leaving the Hunt in the hands of his wife, uncertain 

 of all things save the way his duty lay. His wife 

 stood up to the situation, as a good sportswoman 

 will. She " carried on," she even " carried the 

 horn " and hunted the hounds herself, afraid of one 

 thing only, that when the Master came home he would 

 say that she had spoilt the hounds. (It may here 

 be stated that no such calamity occurred; the end 

 of the War found the morals of the pack unimpaired.) 



Only such as battled through those first bad days 

 can at all realise what was involved in the game of 

 carrying on. The wearing strain of the commissariat 

 alone, bad enough in pre-war days, was enough to 

 overwhelm the novice. Flesh, meal, biscuits, having 

 doubled in price, withdrew themselves from the 

 public view, and waited, in cloistered calm, until 

 dearth had prepared those that needed them for 

 extortions such as exceeded their darkest anticipa- 

 tions. And this was not the only strain. 



The popular view of fox-hunting, largely based on 

 Christmas numbers and their like, is sometimes 

 justified, and " the gay throng that goes laughing 

 along," exclusively composed of young and beautiful 

 riders and horses, a flawless pack of identical hounds, 

 a fox who is shot from the covert as from a pop- 

 gun at the psychological moment, have, no doubt, 

 occasionally occurred — " the time and the place and 

 the loved one all together," as it were. The usual 

 hunting record is dedicated to success, *the glories 

 and ecstasies of fox-hunting need not here be sung. 



