1 96 The Pytchley Hitnt, Past and Present. 



raise a walk. We all went down to the river, and from 

 one of its pools out jumped the stag, all amongst the 

 hounds. He just managed to hobble along for a few 

 yards up the slope of the green meadow with the dogs 

 lopping along heavily beside him, and just behind, when 

 he came to a few very low hurdles. He could only just 

 get his fore-legs over them and then fell right among the 

 leading hounds. He kicked out right and left with his 

 hind-legs, scattered his pursuers, turned down again 

 toward the river, tumbled over the hurdles once more, 

 shook himself free from his enemies, and again sought 

 the water. The hounds were now whipped off, and some 

 rustics plunging into the water, the leg-weary animal 

 was secured. Though quite unable to run, it was sur- 

 prising to see the courage and strength h« still retained. 

 He fought and struggled with head and neck, and it 

 required the efforts of some strong men to make him go in 

 the direction they required. I was afterwards shown a 

 place in the park where he had fallen through being 

 unable to jump a ditch not above two or three feet wide, 

 with a fence about a foot high. I never ascertained for 

 certain what the length of the run had been, but though 

 I had often been out hunting and greatly enjoyed it, it 

 was very painful to me on that occasion to see all the 

 animals so thoroughly exhausted. I suppose the hounds 

 were the ' Ward Union ^ pack, and I was informed that 

 the stag bore the euphonious name of the ' Devil.' 

 This scene took place in the neighbourhood of Mullah ud- 

 dart Bridge." 



That the above narrative is absolutely a truthful one 

 cannot be doubted ; but after half a century^s experience 

 with foxhounds, the writer has not only never witnessed, 

 but has never heard of a similar incident. 



