Hunting at Brighton, 285 



sible to see more than two or three yards ahead. 

 However, Mr. Streatfield, the Master of the South- 

 down, is always anxious to show sport, in which laud- 

 able desire he is invariably aided by Champion, who 

 has hunted these hounds for the last twenty years, 

 and orders to move on having been given, he pro- 

 ceeded to draw the covers lying below the hills, first 

 trying Horton Rough without finding a fox, then 

 Toddington Wood with similar ill-luck, next Hoe 

 Wood, which was also drawn blank, and afterwards 

 the Osier Bed, and Perching Woodj but " nary nary '^ 

 a fox was at home this dismal day. 



A most unusual run of bad luck was this, as on 

 former occasions when I have seen these covers drawn, 

 we found lots of foxes. In consequence of the dismal 

 state of the atmosphere and this want of success, most 

 of the ^^ field ^^ threw up the sponge — a very moist 

 sponge it was too, and returned home. Not so 

 Champion and some half-dozen men, true to the core, 

 who determined, the weather notwithstanding, to 

 persevere to the end. Here as they reached a patch 

 of Gorse in Paythorne Valley, they met with their 

 reward, for a fox went away at a rattling pace, making 

 for the Tenantry Furze, then going for the Roughs, 

 through which he made his way, then on to Erring- 

 ham Furze, and being driven from thence he ran 

 down the hill in the direction of Seeding Windmill, 

 where Champion was compelled to whip ofi" the 

 hounds through stress of weather, thus terminating a 

 wretched day's sport, a very unusual occurrence with 

 this pack, by-the-by, but saving the " country '' from 

 the discredit of having shown a blank day. 



But if much disappointment resulted from these un- 



