188 THE BEST SEASON ON EECOED. 



waiting evidently accepted as customary. That a horn 

 sounded on the second up the wind (S.E., the best, 

 perhaps, of all directions) seemed to take natives and 

 strangers alike by surprise. But the fox had found him- 

 self ; the big doghounds were scattered over the covert, 

 and there was time enough for everyone to be at the 

 starting-point before the pack were on his line. (The 

 pack, did I say ? No, a moiety at the most. The gallop 

 was half over ere the rampant phalanx opened sufficiently 

 to let the others up.) But with such a scent, wafted 

 down the breeze in their faces, I question if the tailhounds 

 could ever have caught the body — till the wire traps to 

 which we shall presently come had enclosed one and all 

 of the hindering horsemen — had the field waited yet 

 another three minutes, which in common justice to them, 

 it is only fair to add, they had not the slightest intention 

 of doing. A stalwart bullfinch checked wild ardour 

 for a moment, till a well-known and too-often-quoted 

 friend swept the strong rails from the chief opening, as 

 radically as a cowcatcher would lift a few sticks from an 

 engine's path. Over three rough pastures then raced 

 the crowd — the deep-sticky furrows searching out the 

 power of their mounts, and a fourth field a very nest of 

 pitfalls with its new made drains and its half-visible 

 watercourses. Thus for the village of AVymondham — 

 with grief, hurry, and happiness in their due proportions 

 by the way. Suddenly it became necessary — at least so 

 thought all the leading competitors — to jump into a deep 

 narrow lane which hounds had at least threatened to 

 cross. So in they jumped ; till the lane would hold no 



