A DOG HUNT ON THE BEEWYNS 



Thanks to the columns of the sporting papers, 

 every Englishman, whatever his occupation, is suffi- 

 ciently familiar with the details of fox-hunting, 

 and all other kinds of hunting usually practised in 

 merry England ; but few, I fancy, have either seen 

 or heard of a dog-hunt. It has fallen to my lot to 

 participate in such a hunt ; one, too, which was 

 quite as exciting as a wolf -hunt must have been in 

 the olden time, or as that most glorious of sports, 

 otter-hunting, is now. Imagine to yourself a three 

 days' chase after a tierce and savage dog, a con- 

 firmed sheep worrier, and that in the midst of the 

 picturesque ruggedness and grandeur of the Welsli 

 hills. 



Some three or four miles east from Bala, the 

 Berwyn Mountains raise their heathery summits in 

 the midst of a solitude broken only by the plain- 

 tive bleat of a lost sheep or tlie shouts of men in 

 search of it. 



For miles the purple moorland rolls on without 

 a moving creature to break the stillness. Deep 



