120 THE BEST SEASON ON EECOED. 



opening for a mile — and here, as in blank despair we 

 follow men and liounds into tlie lowest corner, an old 

 hidden gate is flung open by the foremost horsemen, and 

 we are free to hurry forward at our best. On the big 

 pasture opposite Wartnaby Hall, a flock of sheep dash 

 across the front of liounds ; a man stands in his gig in 

 the open road above, pointing onwards towards Cant's 

 Thorns. The fox no doubt had eyes as ready and keen as 

 those of the passing traveller ; but the swing of the pack 

 in their own forward cast takes in the turn without a 

 second's loss of time : and with undiminished pace they 

 are onward over a succession of tight little meadows at 

 the back of Kettleby. Capt. Smith and Mr A. Brockle- 

 hurst land together into the road by the village — Firr 

 joining them at the same instant as if from the clouds ; 

 for certainly no other man could have made up the 

 ground within fifteen minutes of extricating himself from 

 the gorse, fufly fifty people being then between him and 

 hounds. The little brown is almost burst by the effort ; 

 but, very shortly afterwards, Mr Coupland snatches an 

 opportunity to change horses — setting his huntsman on 

 the grey — while a moment's breathing time easily enables 

 the blown one to bring the Master to the end of the run. 

 Another unjumpable bottom is to be crossed where 

 bullocks have put fence and brook on the same level, 

 and where only a hurdle answers all purposes of winter 

 gap-mending. How thankful we are — but how mamj 

 yards we lose when such an outlet has to be carefully 

 forded or a gate has to be unlatched ! And on a day 

 like this we can almost measure by ear the distance of 



