PREFACE 



I HAVE hunted the Hne for forty seasons and more, 

 and now I am asked by the rising generation of 

 sportsmen to speak to it, and am reminded that it 

 is a trait of the beautiful Belvoir blood that they 

 can say plenty about it. Well ! the memory of a 

 lifetime spent as huntsman in the Dukes of 

 Rutland's service is a very pleasant one, and has 

 sped by far too quickly. It is a long way to cast 

 back, and was never a favourite practice of mine 

 when I carried the horn. Forrard, hark, forrard ! 

 must ever be the watchword of the chase, and as 

 memories of those who spent their happiest 

 moments with hounds come quicker than the pen 

 will spring to the touch, Mr. Cuthbert Bradley is 

 kind enough to guide that for me. Besides, I am 

 reminded that on one occasion I broke my leg 

 when driving a unicorn team, proving the old adage, 

 " Every cobbler should stick to his last," therefore 

 it is better that the practised pen and pencil of 

 another sportsman, who has employed both during 



