236 STAG -HUNTING ON EXMOOR 



farmer whose turnip crops have been ruined by 

 the herd's depredations, a season of anxiety to the 

 master of the Devon and Somerset staghounds, a 

 season of delight to him who loves the chase. 

 Pleasure unalloyed, indeed, for so long as fortune 

 favours him, but assuredly the day will sooner or 

 later arrive when a grip or cart rut on Exmoor will 

 turn horse and rider over, when the red grass or 

 white bog flower that should warn the horseman to 

 " take a pull " is overlooked or disregarded, with 

 alarming results. The least of the ills that flesh 

 is heir to, when stag-hunting on Exmoor, is to lose 

 one's way twenty miles from home, and be found a 

 solitary horseman wandering on the moor, soaked to 

 the skin, out of hail of any living creature but 

 forest ponies, and uneasily musing on the old nurse- 

 tales of pixies. If, in such case, you are fortunate 

 enough to stumble upon a moorland farm, do not 

 fail to accept the shelter which will surely be 

 offered ; and so shall the congratulations of your 

 friends sound sweet in your ears when you return 

 safe and sound on the morrow. Your landlord also, 

 if you are staying at an inn and hunting on a 

 hired mount, will welcome you with such evident 

 sincerity that you feel sure it is not unconnected 

 with the recovery of his horse. 



