A TWO days' break. 89 



most venturesome of our stock pilots were to be seen 

 dodging and twisting like hares turned by greyhounds. 

 Ellar's Gorse is but a mile from that of Willoughby ; and 

 when once we had passed the former, had left the brook 

 satisfactorily to our right, and reached the road on the 

 opposite hill, we deemed the gallop assured, and a 

 pleasant easy country ahead. But carriages and foot- 

 people broke the first dash ; scent lay dubiously on the 

 yet cold ground ; and slow hunting began. I am far 

 from saying that true, patient, and — as in this case — 

 quick hunting has not charms, or even charms In their 

 own way quite equivalent to the more effervescent 

 delights of a sharp scurry. On the other hand, I would 

 never dare argue that Leicestershire, and a Leicestershire 

 field, form at all times the best scene and surroundings 

 for the quieter phases of line-hunting. Indeed, when 

 men's blood has once been roused by the hurry-scurry of 

 a flying start, I should say they form for a while the 

 very worst. But a very few minutes will serve to cool 

 needless ardour, and bring the hottest of enthusiasts to 

 his bearings. To ride to hounds here (quite as much as 

 anywhere else) men must have learned to keep an eye 

 on their movements ; and to see when it is no longer 

 necessary to rush and rake. Once let liounds settle and 

 men be quiet, it is certainly more enjoyable, and probably 

 no less edifying, to see a fox steadily hunted over a good 

 country than a bad one. 



The fox in question succeeded in crossing the road at 

 last, leaving the pack to puzzle out his line down a side 

 lane, before — field for field, and fence for fence as on 



