204 Tally ho. 



remorselessly cut through the district, and will sadly 

 interfere with the sport, I am afraid. 



No time is lost, and Mr. Coupland, the Master of 

 the Quorn, soon gives the order '^ to move on," and 

 Tom Firr sends his hounds into a cover close at hand. 

 But to-day it does not hold a fox, so I have no oppor- 

 tunity of trying a gallop across these well-known pas- 

 tures; and we trot away to Sir Francis Burdett^s 

 cover, where we are speedily on the line of a fox, 

 and we race him away for Dalby. 



All but a select few turned to the right, and were 

 out of the hunt entirely, as the fox turned to the 

 left, and went straight as a bird for fifteen or twenty 

 minutes at a racing pace, with only six of the field 

 near the hounds. 



Over the Whissendine they go. Sir John Lister 

 Kaye, taking it at full swing, comes a cropper, and 

 lies insensible for some time. Mrs. Molyneux goes 

 well in, and has to be pulled out at leisure ; and Mr. 

 Coupland^s horse takes a bath, and is not easily got 

 out again. 



The banks of the Whissendine are extremely rotten, 

 and this noted brook often becomes a settler for the 

 riders of the present time, as it did for those who were 

 bold enough to try a jump at it in the old days when 

 "the Squire" hunted the Quorn. 



Away, however, the hounds race, and run their fox 

 into Stapleford Park, where he is lost. Like many 

 others, I had to follow a stern chase, and should not 

 have been up at the finish now had not Lady Florence 

 Dixie, who had stayed until she saw that no serious 

 mischief had befallen Sir John Kaye, galloped up and 

 told me in what direction to go ; and as I knew if I 



