A Rux 129 



are possibly unpleasant, but entii-ely natural. The good 

 horse rises gently, but necessarily stretches out his neck 

 in landing. Clerkson's firm clutch of the reins, together 

 with the thrust of the animal's hind quarters, pull and 

 throw him forward at the same moment ; there is no 

 resistance caused by a hold in the saddle ; he is 

 nervously leaning forward instead of sitting back. He 

 finds himself promptly deposited on the broad of the 

 back, his ideas as to the simpKcity and ease of the 

 operation of jumping fences being in one single moment 

 completely altered. Jumping is like swimming. The 

 man who can swim, or sit a jump, cannot see the difiB- 

 culty. It is the simplest thing in the world. If Clerkson 

 had given his horse plenty of liberty, let the reins slip 

 through his fingers, and sat with moderate tightness, 

 he would have been over with a faint suspicion of 

 the shock which has resulted in his downfall and the 

 freedom of his horse, a freedom in which the animal is 

 rejoicmg by kicking up its heels, though it cannot 

 understand what went wrong at the fence. 



Meantime, the pack has been running hard and 

 almost silently, so hot has been the scent. Thatchley 

 Common has been crossed, and they are away again 

 beyond over an enclosed country, where the hounds 

 throw up their heads. Straight in front is a fold: the 

 shepherd is munching his dinner ; his dog, panting and 

 with extended tongue, returns to his master's side. 

 Some half-mile away to the right is a patch of withy beds, 

 and the natural inference is that the sheepdog has 

 coursed the fox in this direction, which has diverted 

 him from his point. The shepherd has seen nothing, 

 and has the candour or the lack of invention not to draw 

 inferences and state them as facts. The hounds spread 



K 



