500 
Waste Hill Lands : 
" At Sir Thomas's death he reverted to the same attorney, and 
shortly after found his way into the stables of Mr. Roakes, a 
dealer in Exeter. We next trace him to Totnes, and thence to 
Rubus, in Cornwall, where he stood several seasons, and got 
most beautiful stock even from inferior mares. Being now well 
stricken in years, he fell into the possession of a servant of Major 
Glynn, of Glynn, near Bodmin, who almost starved him in a 
severe winter. In this state, snow-fed and covered with vermin, 
he was purchased for the trifling sum of five guineas by a clergy- 
man, from motives of humanity. Mr. Russell was his name, an 
accomplished scholar, an excellent companion and warm-hearted 
friend. He then lived at Southill, near Callington, Cornwall. 
He had the satisfaction of restoring the old horse to full vigour, 
and sold him to Mr. Martin of Saltash, in whose possession he 
died, aetat, 26, and perfectly sound in wind and feet. The cause 
of his death was inflammation of the roots of the tongue, which 
choked him. He was barely 14 hands high, his colour a dark 
bay. The symmetry of his forehand was peculiarly light and 
beautiful. 
" Like the Jews, he stamped his likeness so decidedly on his 
progeny, that they can never be mistaken who knew him ; and 
most old sportsmen in the east of Cornwall and north of Devon 
have a long history to tell of his exploits or those of his de- 
scendants. A ravine is pointed out on Exmoor, over which he 
once carried a very heavy farmer. It measures 16 feet across, 
and 22 feet in depth. Thus lived and died Katerfelto, the 
quadruped, and the country still rings with his fame." 
Even to the present time many a man that you meet with the 
Devon and Somerset staghounds will tell you that he is on a bit 
of Katerfelto blood, and I have seen good, fair-sized hunters carry- 
ing men sixteen stone, of which the boast has been made. One 
man with whom I rode home after being once all but lost [on 
the moor, was very strong in the praises of a good-looking bay 
which had carried him many seasons, and after expatiating on 
all its excellences, said, " But there ! he comes of the old Kater- 
felto blood, and it's not to be wondered at." He, like many 
others, gave them the character of being exceedingly stout, but 
inclined to be high-tempered. It is astonishing how jealous the 
Devon farmers are of their own strains of blood, and I have 
heard a tale of two who, having dropped in for one of those 
clinking runs across the moor which occur when the hounds 
chance to be laid on a light deer, pursued the even tenor of their 
way in company until one, either finding his pony had pretty 
nearly had enough, or fancying that it would be as well not 
to get further from his own Barton, exclaimed, " I shall pull 
up, Bill, I have had enough for to-day." ",Oh, come on," replied 
