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JOHNA.SEAVERNS

014 533 703

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Cummings School ot Veterinary Medicine at
Tufts University
200 Westboro Road
North Grafton, MA 01536

CROSS COUNTRY
WITH HORSE AND HOUND

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CROSS COUNTRY
WITH HORSE AND HOUND

BY

FRANK SHERMAN PEER

Author of " Soiling, Ensilage, and Stable Construction "

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

J. CRAWFORD WOOD

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

1902

Copyright, 1902, by
Charles Scribner's Sons

Published October, igo2

The DeVinne Press

TO

THOMAS HITCHCOCK, JR., ESQ.
EX-MASTER OF THE MEADOWBROOK HOUNDS
MASTER OF THE AIKEN (N. C.) HOUNDS
A VERY CLEVER HUNTSMAN
A FINISHED RIDER
A RARE HORSEMAN
A GENUINE SPORTSMAN
THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR

PREFACE

*' Perhaps, after all, it 's a gain in the end
To be tied to the subject you love."

RHYMES IN RED

STRANGE as it may seem, there never has been a book
published in America on the subject of cross-country
riding to hounds. Let this be the author's apology — if
any is required — for presenting this work.

Having moved into a hunting country without previous
knowledge of the sport, the author undertook to follow
the hounds after witnessing a run from a friend's car-
riage, and, needless to say, made about as many mistakes as
it was possible for a *' green un" to accomplish. It was
greatly to his mortification and chagrin to discover how
much of a sinner he had been against the unwritten laws
of the hunting-field — so much so that years later he deter-
mined, if an opportunity should present itself, to place in the
hands of similar uninitiated ones something in the nature
of a guide. Curiously enough, the rules are misunderstood
even by a large number of those who follow the hounds.
Especially is this true of the men who simply ** hunt to
ride." Although a gallop across country is a most invig-
orating pastime, the most interesting and lasting enjoy-
ment, the real sport, comes from a more thorough knowledge

viii Preface

of the hunt, of the workings of the hounds, the plots laid
by the artful Reynard to fool them, and the counter-plots of
the clever huntsman. The men who follow hunting year
in and year out, through fair weather and foul, through
youth, manhood, and age, are invariably the men who
possess this knowledge, and who, instead of simply hunting
to ride, are classed with the men who ride to hunt. This
work is therefore intended to give the novice an insight
into the game from the point of view both of hunting and
of riding, so that he may obtain from the sport a full
measure of the delights it has to offer.

The author makes no attempt to set up a code for
officers of the hunt. He states the conditions and moves
of the game from a member's and not from an official's
standpoint. He has never occupied any position in the
hunt except that of a modest riding member who dearly
loved the sport, especially the hunting part of it. His
ambition has been to keep in sight of the hounds, and he
is quite contented to let the racing men and jealous riders
share all the honours they can extract from the satisfaction
of being called "first flight men." A more important
claim is that he has had considerable experience in breed-
ing, rearing, and schooling hunters that have been for the
most part a credit to the system adopted in their training,
and has been fortunate in bringing to this work quite ex-
tensive observations of many different packs of hounds in
European countries, as well as in the United States and Can-
ada. His chief aim is to encourage this most noble sport
for sport's sake, to contrast the genuine sportsman with the
artificial, and to pay to that noblest of animals, the horse.

Preface ix

and especially the "hunter," a debt of gratitude for many
a glorious hour in his company.

The author is indebted to the artist Mr. J. Crawford
Wood for the very lifelike illustrations accompanying
these pages. Mr. Wood is one of the keenest hunting
men in the famous grass countries of England. He hunts
five days a week throughout the season, with such noted
packs as the Pytchley, Grafton, and North Warwickshire
hounds. Thanks are due also to Mr. Phillpotts Williams,
master and huntsman of the Melton harriers, near Salis-
bury, England, for kind permission to select from his
*' Rhymes in Red" and his '* Poems in Pink" the verses
which precede the several chapters of this work. They are
so full of the spirit and the true gospel of hunting that
they must be heartily welcomed. No author up to the
present day has been more generally quoted on all questions
concerning the science and art of fox-hunting. No less
is the indebtedness to the immortal Somerville, of whose
lines the author has made liberal use, although they were
written in 1735 and have long been out of print. The
odour of the woods and the spirit of the chase live in them
still, with the vigour of youth, the colour of autumn, and
the freshness of spring.

In a work of this nature it has been found impossible to
avoid considerable repetition of thought. Besides, the book
has been a long time in pickle. Chapters or portions of
chapters have been added at long intervals, and the whole
has been compiled during "overtime" from other business
— on steam-cars, or at uncomfortable hotels, or on steam-
ships pitched about by winter seas. If it is well received

X Preface

it will be in spite of its style. The reins, the gun, and
the tiller are probably better suited to the writer's hands
than the pen. His chief hope is that the reader may
have some of the pleasure in reading the book that the
author had in writing it. He is well aware that many of
his views are not altogether orthodox, but he has at-
tempted to be honest with himself and present his own
ideas and views regardless of some well-grounded no-
tions current among hunting men. We are all apt to get
into a rut in our ways of thinking. It may be prefer-
able to have a rut of our own rather than follow a blind
ditch simply because the crowd seems to be going that
way. The writer is also aware that he now rejects many
theories that a few years ago were considered true gospel,
which leads him to suspect that a few years hence he may
repudiate some things that he now asserts with much assur-
ance. He will consider his reward very ample if in the
hour of ultimate success the novice reader has a kindly
thought for " Cross Country with Horse and Hound."

The Elms

Cornell Heights

Ithaca, N. Y.

CONTENTS

FACE

I True Sport and Sportsmanship i

The word sportsman defined — English and American sports-
men compared — American school and college sports

II Hunting Terms ii

A learner's programme — Terms ancient ana modern

III The Hunter: His Conformation 19

Head — Neck — Shoulders — Back — Loin quarters — Body —
Legs — Disposition

IV Breeding Hunters 39

The best breed — General principles in breeding — Selection
of sire and dam — Summary of principles — Treatment of mare
and foal

V Schooling Hunters 53

The best age to begin — Mouthing and learning to drive —
Schooling for saddle work ^ Learning to jump, right way —
Learning to jump, wrong way

VI Buying a Hunter 69

The horse-dealer and the jockey — Two ways of buying a horse
— How some buyers go about it — The marriage ceremony

VII Seat ^5

Riding by grip and balance — Bad and good form — How to
sit a horse properly — Riding over jumps by balance

VIII Hands 99

Pullers : how they are made — Proper position of hands — How
to hold the reins — Hands when jumping

xii Contents

PAGE

IX Jumping Fences, Ditches, and Water . . . -115

The rider — His management of his horse — Speed at timber
and water

X Spurs 121

Their use and abuse — Relics of barbarism

XI Dress ..•••... 129

The etiquette of the hunting-field — The over-dressed — The
under-dressed — The swell

XII Falls 135

The art of falling — Learning to fall — Barometer of fear —
Falls not the horse's fault

XIII Courage vs. Funk 145

True and false nerve — Cataleptic riders — Preparation — A case
of funk that reached collapse

XIV The Hound 155

Standard of excellence — Drafting for faults — American and
English hounds compared

XV Hound Breeding 165

Origin of the breed — Difficulties in the way — The skill of
English breeders — Mating and birth

XVI The Hound Puppy at Walk 177

An important event — Mischievous propensities — Kennel dis-
cipline — Cub-hunting

XVII The Fox 189

The fox compared with other game — Hunting the wild red
deer — A pathetic end — Renard's crafty nature

XVIII The Fox and his Ways 197

Breeding season — First lessons in craft cunning — What the
earth-stopper says — What the farmer and his wife say

XIX Scent 209

Some theories compared — Fondness of hounds for the trail —
Hound music and a novice

Contents xiii

PAGE

XX Farmers and City Men 219

Obligations of hunting men to farmers — Farmers' compensation
and damages — City men in the country — Snobs

XXI The Lady Rider 229

Her position in the field — Her horsemanship — Her courage
and resolution — A famous rider

XXII Mind-power Horsemanship 239

"An indefinable something ' ' — Personal magnetism — Consent
to be governed — Cultivation of mind-power control

XXIII Driving to Hounds 251

An interesting pastime — The Doctor and the little mare — A
remarkable spill

XXIV Officers and Hunt Assistants 261

The M.F.H. — The huntsman — The whippers-in — The ken-
nel huntsman — The earth-stopper

XXV Horse Companionship . 275

Love of animals — Advice to beginners — A long list of "don' ts"

XXVI The Consultation of War 293

Arranging for a day's hunting — An elaborate preparation —
Old Simpson at work

XXVII The Meet 301

The M.F.H. as host — In discharge of his social duties — In-
troducing a few friends

XXVIII Riding to Covert 311

Mounting for the start — A rider in a fight with his horse —
Mrs. So-and-So and our huntsman — Position

XXIX The Game Itself 325

Breaking covert — Full cry — The check — The riders — The
death

XXX The Hunt Dinner 339

The huntsman's toast — " To fox-hunting in general" — The
Doctor tells a story

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Facing page

English foxhound " Grafton Pageant " . . . . Frontispiece

High-class grade thoroughbred Blue Rock — hunter type )

Heavy-weight hunter — ideal Irish type )

The harness type )

\ 28
The hack type )

Thoroughbred stallion Barrett, by Bonnie Scotland ... 30

Rider's centre of gravity, withers, shoulder-blade, true arm,

elbow-joint, and girths 32

" A rap on the shins that knocks the feeling out of his legs " 66

Rider in correct position — front and back 92

The right and the wrong way of jumping timber .... 94

The right and the wrong way of landing over timber . . 98

Hands — correct and incorrect positions 104

Hands in riding 114

Fast at timber, too extended )

> 118
Slow at timber, hocks well under )

" The sharp rowels of a spur ploughing across the loins of a

horse " 126

" There is a knack about falling, as there is about swimming " 138

"'Catch my horse! Here, somebody! I say, there, catch

my horse !' " 152

XV

xvi List of Illustrations

Bloodhound and greyhound, ancestors of the English

foxhound i68

The Master's " priceless beauties " 172

" Delivers them into the aprons of kindly disposed farmers'

wives " 174

" Again you may find her sleeping before the boiler-room

fire" 182

" But the whipper-in takes after him. ^ Ware rabbit ! Ware

rabbit!'" 186

"'There he goes, damn him !' cries the deacon of the First

Baptist Church" 194

"'The way in which they will afterward fool some silly old

goose ' " 206

"Hark to Bluebells, hark to Bluebells," cries the huntsman 216

Canadian seven-eighths thoroughbred lady's hunter . . .232

" We saw three or four riders go to grass " 256

" It is an old move and has worked beautifully on many oc-
casions " 264

" Their heads go up, their music ceases. Again they are at

a check " 268

" She is turned out on the lawn in front of the house, where

the grasses are tenderest and sweetest " 278

"'Not a man on the place knows enough to do my work ' " . 298
The colt out of old Jane by Devil-to-Pay 304

" There were eight of us at it, and seven got in " . . . .318
From scent to view — " Hie, hie, hie, hie ! " 328

"'Break him, my beauties, break him !' " 23^

I

TRUE SPORT AND SPORTSMANSHIP

"The note of a hound, ever sweet to the ear.
Will leave you no feeling of pain;
It drives away sorrow and drives away fear.
Just hark at them now as they fly to the cheer
With a crash on the velvety plain,"

POEMS IN PINK

TRUE SPORT AND SPORTSMANSHIP

THE WORD SPORTSMAN DEFINED ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SPORTS-
MEN COMPARED AMERICAN SCHOOL AND COLLEGE SPORTS

lEFORE we consider hunting as a sport, let us
come to an understanding as to the meaning
of the words sportsman, sporting man, and
" sport." In England a sporting man is one
who bets on horse-races, follows the " circuit," keeps game-
birds or bulldogs for fighting, or runs a gambling-saloon,
and is reckoned in good society as altogether beyond the
pale of respectability. On the other hand, to speak of a
man as a "sportsman" is to speak of one who is fond of
fishing, yachting, shooting, or hunting — hunting in Eng-
land always meaning riding to hounds, while going for game
with a gun is spoken of as shooting. To say of a man in
England that he is a good or genuine sportsman means that
in all such games of sport he plays fair and is gentlemanly,
honourable, and open-handed. He asks no favours and grants
none, winning or losing on his personal merits. In short,
a genuine sportsman and a genuine gentleman are synony-
mous terms. We are bound to use the words sport and
sportsman very often in the following pages, and in every

3

4 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

case according to the English usage. In America the term
sporting man has much the same significance as it has in
England, with an additional suggestion of the cheap "sport "
in it, while sportsman is loosely used to mean any one fond
of out-of-door sport.

Whatever we say of England as a nation, we must admit
that the inhabitants of that country know how to play,
and it is for this reason, also, that they know how to live.
They have discovered the elixir of youth as has no other
nation. We must also admit that they know how to play
fair, and that they are the best and most genuine sportsmen
anywhere to be found. It is not too much to say that the
universal love of field-sports in England is one of the prin-
cipal causes of her greatness as a nation. Fair play is a
cardinal virtue among her people. The lessons the youths
of England absorb from cricket, football, rowing, and other
outdoor sports of skill and chance have done as much to
establish and maintain the supremacy of that little country
among the nations of the world as have all her schools,
colleges, and churches combined. I recognise that this is
a sweeping assertion, and perhaps a difficult one to prove ;
but I make it with the greatest confidence, after considera-
ble study and observation of the English people. In the
first place, their universal love of field-sports has done more
than all else to grow healthy men and women. The
ambition of an English father is to grow his sons and
daughters as he would grow his farm stock — fine, healthy,
upstanding animals. " Go out and play," he says. " I
want you to grow up to be big stout men and women.
Money is no good to a man without a stomach."

True Sport and Sportsmanship 5

Every English boy while at school is obliged to go out
and play. It is a part of his education. He carries the
love of outdoor sports taught him at the primary schools
on to college, and from there into the hunting-field. There
are three thousand students at the colleges in Oxford, and
I am informed on most reliable authority that over
two thousand of that number are daily engaged in some
form of field-sport. I have myself seen thirty crews of
eight men each rowing in a single race at Oxford.
These were the freshmen only, the pick of at least twice
that number of freshmen who were in daily practice. In
an English college at least ninety per cent, of the men go in
for field-sports. The percentage in an American college
must be considerably less. In England these field-sports
give place to cross-country riding to hounds when the boy
becomes a man. The transition is easy, for many of the
colleges and some of the large grammar-schools have packs
of foot beagles that once or twice a week hunt the hare. It
is a fine sight to see a hundred sturdy lads in the chase of
" puss " to a pack of twenty or thirty couples of beagles.
There is not a university in England, I believe, but has its
hunt club, and a goodly number of students keep hunters or
polo ponies that do double duty one or two days a week,
at polo, fox, or drag. Even if the English boy has missed
this training while at school or college, his healthy, sport-
hardened nerves never undergo a shock when he essays to
ride to hounds.

There are in England and Scotland, in a territory little
larger than the State of New York, one hundred and thirty-
eight packs of hounds. Hunting is the national sport. It

6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

is a man's game. Thousands of men over fifty years of age
are hunting to-day in England; hundreds over sixty years
of age, men and women, too, with grey hair, are riding to
hounds over some of the roughest country ; and scores of
them seventy or even eighty years old are at their favourite
pastime, the chase of the wild fox or deer. In America,
men are too apt to be old at fifty, too likely not to have
any time for play, or no time for anything but money-mak-
ing. It is greatly to be hoped that hunting may become
more general, for there are yet too few games and dis-
tractions out of doors for men. Athletics is the reigning
fad in America. Let one hope American children will
develope a permanent love of all manly sport for sport's sake,
that they may transmit to their descendants not only clever-
ness and ability, but robust and healthy bodies.

Next to health, the most desirable quality to cultivate in
a boy is courage and strength of nerve, and for this there is
no schooling he can possibly have like rough-and-tumble
field-sports. Health, courage, nerve, energy, come not
from learning how to parse or figure, but from learning
how to play ; and next to health, strength, courage, energy,
nerve, the most desirable quality to be developed in a child
is fair dealing. Where or in what form is it possible to
imagine a system of schooling that will develope this most
estimable trait of character like field-sports ? Do I place
too high an estimate on the value of play ? I hardly think
so. What has all this to do with hunting ? It is the very
foundation of it. The field-sports of the boys at school
and college are but the primary tutoring to cross-country
riding for the man.

True Sport and Sportsmanship 7

The attainment of health is the most priceless of all
things earthly to be attained. Courage and nerve are the
outgrowth of health, of the power to govern and to be
governed, and of the practical, every-day training in that
most Christian-like virtue of the Golden Rule. There is
still another characteristic of men who never forget how to
play, and that is longevity. Who can estimate the value a
man would place, in certain circumstances, upon an exten-
sion of time ? Ask the millionaire who finds his race run,
his bolt shot, at fifty. All the time that is spent in outdoor
sports is, I believe, in the numbering of our days, so much
clear gain. And when at last age may rob the true sports-
man of active participation in the chase, the sight of a
horse under saddle, a hound puppy at walk, will send a glow
through his veins as the touch of a blacksmith's bellows
quickens a smouldering fire. He is helped on by a cheer
that gladdens his declining days as nothing else can. To
what do old men most lovingly look back as they near the
" mellow " ? Not to the greatest sermon, the ablest plea, the
most skilful operation, the stroke in business that made a
million in a single day : all these things have long since ceased
to charm. It is the games and sports of youth and man-
hood that live to the end. These glow with fervent heat.
The blood once thoroughly inculcated by true sport and
sportsmanship will gambol healthfully to the end. No
man, be he king or peasant, can carry to his grave more
agreeable recollections than those of the chase, the gun, or
the yacht. These live within him, a well-spring of joy to
cheer when all that is earthly fails. Speak to any man of
his favourite game of sport or skill, and how pleased he is

8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

to recall it! How youth comes back in his gestures, his
voice, his face, his whole frame, crippled and infirm it
may be, but made to play again as he tells the oft-repeated
story to his grandchildren of how he finished and won the
great hunter point-to-point steeplechase when he was a
boy, seventy years ago, by a neck ! He will tell you with
minutest detail of the great fishing excursions to Canada,
the shooting trip to the Adirondacks, his horses, his dogs,
his yacht, the run of the hounds. These experiences he
retains with ever-increasing clearness until the golden bowl
is finally broken. You may go still further back to college
days, and note what it is that delights him most — to recall
the fact that he won a scholarship or graduated with hon-
ours, or the race of his college crew in which he took part.
If he is a very old man you may go still further back to
the games of his school-days. Ask him how the boys in
his day played " two all cat," " pom-pom-pull-away,"
**yard the sheep," " I spy," or "fox and geese," and you
will have a most vivid picture of every move in the game.
Speak of music. Is he fond of the opera ? Oh, yes ! but
the sweetest music, the melody that still fills his heart, is
the music of the hound in full cry, the lament of the
blocks when the mainsail is set, the report of the gun, or
the clatter of horses' feet.

Men do not yet know enough how to play in America,
and I make this plea to every father and mother — to give
their attention to growing well-developed animals. Let
them turn squarely about, and teach how to play, and how
to play fair. Curtail the child in nothing that will tend
to develope him physically. Let book-learning take care

True Sport and Sportsmanship 9

of itself. One cannot develope or cultivate in one's children
a safer passion than that for clean outdoor sports. They
carry with them no stain that will not easily come off.
Though health and strength are much more to be desired
than riches, yet one delves and saves and denies himself
everything to leave to his children money, and lets the
more important question of robust constitutions be taken
up by chance and the family physician. May every teacher
and college professor become builders of bodies as well as
minds, educators of the whole instead of a part. May
every school-boy and school-girl, before it is too late, learn
how to play, how to take defeat in a true sportsmanlike
way, to love all manly and womanly games of sport for
sport's sake, and live on to enjoy the fulness of mature
years with the happy reflection of a well-spent life in the
pursuit of health-giving pleasure and happiness.

II

HUNTING TERMS

*' Taught to speak
The proper dialect, with horn and voice
To cheer the busy hound."

SOMERVILLE

II

HUNTING TERMS

A learner's programme TERMS ANCIENT AND MODERN

S there are many terms used in hunting that
are as Greek to the uninitiated, it may not
be out of place to devote a few pages to the
explanation of them before we proceed
further. We shall then feel that our decks have been
cleared for action, that our house is in order ; or, as my
hunting friends might prefer to say, " We are all ready
with an early start to follow the line " ; we propose to hunt
in the following pages.

First, however, let us find a comfortable seat, and spend
the evening talking horse and hound and hunting in gen-
eral. To-morrow morning we will visit the kennels, and
then call on "old Simpson," the earth-stopper, and get
him to tell us what he knows about foxes. After that we
will take a horseback ride, and jump a few fences for prac-
tice. In the afternoon we can drive out to see our first
fox chase from a carriage. In the evening we will pay
our respects to the master and huntsman, and the next
morning go early to the " meet," and then ** hack to
covert." We shall have a sure " find," and no doubt we

13

14 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

shall have a " kill," in which case I hope the reader will
be in at the *' death," and be rewarded with the " brush,"
the " mask," or at least a " pad," and be " blooded to
hounds " *' in due and ancient form." I warn him against
cutting corners or being seen at too much road or lane
riding. This is a demoralising practice, bad for both horse
and rider. Take my advice and stay with the hounds.
There was never a run but taught the man of observation
something to his advantage. Even a " blank day to
hounds " is better than no day at all. Now, then, let us on
with it.

Most of these terms are as given by Thomas Smith, Esq.,
of England in his charming book " Extracts from the
Diary of a Huntsman." The volume was published in
1838, and has long since been out of print. The greater
part of his expressions are still in general use all over Eng-
land and America, with slight modifications and a few cor-
ruptions. It is with great pleasure that the author adds to
the present work a valuable chapter for those who wish
to use and preserve the time-honoured vocabulary of the
chase.

Cover hoick — throwing hounds into cover.
Eloo-in — into covert.
Yoi-over — over fence.
*Edawick, Edawick, Edawick — to make hounds draw in
cover.
Yoi wind him — encourage hounds to draw.

* Language or sayings marked * have been supplied by the author as additional to
the list given by Mr. Smith.

Hunting Terms 15

Yoi rouse him, my boy, or, Rouse him, my beauties — en-
courage hounds to draw.

Hackles — when the hair on a hound's back stands up-
right, his hackles are up.

Hoick Rector — cheer to Rector or whichever hound first
challenges. (For modern "Hark to Rector.")

Hoick together — when hounds are scattered, to get
them together.

Tally-O, or, Tally-O away — when a fox is viewed away.

Tally-O back — when fox has returned to covert.

Yo-hote, Yo-hote — when *' check" to make hounds hunt.

Eloo at him, or, Tally-O at him — when hounds near the
fox.

Ware — huntsman's or whipper-in's cry to a hound that
is running or doing wrong. " Ware rabbit," '* Ware
riot," etc.
*Hi ! Hi ! Hi ! — cheer to hounds when overtaking their

fox. (Fox in view of riders.)
^Babbler — a noisy hound, giving tongue too freely.
*Blank — empty. Covert is drawn blank; i.e., nothing
found.

Billet — excrement of the fox.

Burst — of speed. (First dash of speed.)

Burst him — when fox is killed. (Cheer to hounds.)
*Break him — when fox is thrown to hounds.

Burning scent — good.

Breast-high — when scent is so good hounds can carry
their heads up.

Carry a good head — good scent and wide enough for the
whole pack.

1 6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

*Cast — the spreading of hounds when in search of the

line.
^Challenge — first hound to give tongue.
Counter — when hounds are running opposite to the way

the fox is travelling.
Check — hounds stopped.

Chopped a fox — said when fox is killed in covert.
*Cropper — fall from a horse.
Crash, a good crash — when hounds are running in covert

and every one is throwing tongue.
Cub — young fox.

Cold hunting — when hounds can hardly " feel scent."
Cover or covert — a wood or any place likely to conceal
a fox.
*Crop — hunting-whip.
Down wind — with the wind.
Up wind — against the wind.
*Double — said when a fox runs short back on the line.
Drawing — when hounds are working over a covert.
Drag — scent left by the footsteps of a fox on his way to

kennel that morning.
Dwelling — feeling a stale scent.
Drafted — called out.
Earths are drawn — when vixen fox has drawn fresh

earth; — proof she intends to lay her cub there.
Flighty — used of a hound that is not steady.
Feeling a scent — said when hounds can hardly distinguish
a scent.
*Feather — when hound is waving his "stern" (tail) he
is said to be " feathering."

Hunting Terms 17

Foil — used when a fox runs the ground over which he

has been hunted before.
Full cry — when whole pack " throw tongue."
Gone to ground — said of a fox when he goes to earth.
Handles a pack — used of a huntsman's management of

his pack.
Heel — when hounds run a trail backward. ( Running heel.)
Hitting it off — finding the line after a check.
Hold hard — warning to a rider to stop or go slower.
Holding scent — when hounds can follow, but not fast.
*Jumping-powder — stimulant taken from a flask.
*Kennel — where a fox sleeps above-ground ; his bed ;

where he was kenneled.
Lifting — when hounds are unable to find and the hunts-
man takes them on to where he thinks the line is.
*Line hunter — a very methodical and painstaking hound.

Main earths — large breeding burrows or earths.
*Mask — head of a fox.
Mobbing a fox — taking him at a disadvantage.
Mute — hounds run mute when at great speed. (Not

giving tongue.)
Opens to the scent, or. Owning a scent — said of hound

when he " throws tongue."
Pad — foot of fox.
Riot — when hounds run hare or rabbit. (Compare

"Ware riot.")
*Skirter — hound that runs wide of the pack.

Sinking — said when fox shows signs of being overtaken.
*Stern — tail of a hound.
Stained — Ground passed over by sheep, etc.

1 8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Streaming — hounds running like flock of pigeons.

Speaks — when hound owns scent, speaks to it, or gives
tongue.
*Thong — lash of a hunting-crop.

Thrown up — check.

Ticklish scent — one that varies or is uncertain.
*Vixen — female fox.

Ill

THE HUNTER: HIS CONFORMATION

" Be to his faults a little blind.
Be to his virtues ever kind."

JOROCKS

Ill

THE HUNTER: HIS CONFORMATION

HEAD NECK SHOULDERS BACK LOIN QUARTERS BODY

LEGS DISPOSITION

HUNTING man is apt to have rather fixed
notions as to how a hunter should be built.
His ideal is generally the likeness of some
good, faithful beast that has carried him with
the greatest ease and safety; which is only another way
of saying that a good hunter, whatever he is like, however
he is formed, however he is bred, whatever his colour, if he
suits and fits us, is not a bad horse.

The one horse among the multitude that have passed
through my hands, by which all horses are compared and
come short, was one Brunett, a three-quarter-bred Cana-
dian thoroughbred. In conformation she was a collec-
tion of minor faults. She was a little over on her knees,
slightly sickle-hocked, rather long in the back, had ragged
hips, a large plain head, and the longest ears I have ever
seen on anything but a mule; nevertheless she was such an
animal as one meets with but once in a lifetime. She had
courage, spirit, light-heartedness, a happy disposition, rare
intelligence, and the most charming manner in harness.

2 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

She was also the most dehghtful hack that ever carried a
saddle. There were bolder-going cross-country horses and
faster, but none ever enjoyed the game better; and although
she was only fifteen and one half hands, and apparently not
up to my weight, I never fathomed her staying qualities.
I did not know as much about horses then as I do now, or
I never should have parted with her. Take my advice : if
you ever come across a horse that thoroughly suits you, let
neither love nor money take him from you. The chances
are one in a thousand you will ever find another.

But what suits one person will not always suit another.
The man to whom I sold Brunett sold her back to me two
years later without expressing very deep regret. She went
to the Azore Islands for a gentleman's hack, and I have
been looking for another Brunett ever since.

The pick of the stable, good, honest, and sound,
How eager she was at the note of a hound !

Again, the next best horse I ever owned was, without
doubt, the homeliest mare that ever graced the Genesee
Valley. She came so near to Brunett in disposition and
characteristics that I would have her. She is such a
homely horse that no one has ever asked the price of her.
She is now twenty-two or twenty-three years old, and has
for the last fifteen years been one of the family. Yet, old
as she is, none can outshine her, either on a short run or
in the lead tandem, where, to this day, she is very proud
of herself. A Kentucky negro, seeing her driven into
town one day, described her: "She ain't nothin' to look

High-class grade thoroughbred Blue Rock — hunter type.

Heavy-weight hunter — ideal Irish type.

The Hunter: His Conformation 23

at when she 's a-standin', but she 's a sho-nuff cake-walk
mare when she am a-goin' ! " Dear old mare ! Every one
laughs at her, but we love her just the same.

Pardon my digression ! The above had to come out
somewhere in this book, and it may just as well be first as
last. Besides, it illustrates my point : " Handsome is that
handsome does." I do not mean to say, of course, that
only homely and unshapely horses make the best hunters.
Neither of the horses I have just mentioned was an ideal
except in manners and way of going, which in a hunter or
saddle-horse more than in any other are nearly the sum
total of excellence. I mean to say, never discard a horse
that displeases you only by his looks. Nevertheless there
are some points in the conformation of a hunter that can
hardly be ignored. Some general rules, mostly with nu-
merous exceptions, it will be well to keep in mind when
passing judgment on a horse for cross-country work.

A large brainy head, with broad forehead and mild out-
standing eyes, is, as far as my experience goes, one of the
points to insist upon. Some horses with a thimbleful of
brains are made to hunt, but without sufficient intelligence
to go with judgment as well as courage. One who pos-
sesses mere valour can never attain more than a moderate
degree of proficiency.

Some fools of horses may be driven through a run, but
they do not enjoy it; they are simply slaves. Deliver me
from keeping company with such an one in the hunting-
field ! Hunting is, or should be, a partnership game, in
which you and your friend the horse go out for a day's
sport. The more intelligent the horse, the more level-

24 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

headed, the more capable he is of entering into the spirit
of the game, and of enjoying the day's run as well as his
master. It must be remembered, however, that, besides size
of brain, quality also is to be looked for. There are big
basswood-headed horses, and there are small hickory-headed
horses. Quantity must not be confounded with quality.
Some brainy horses have from past bad management had
their nerves shattered, so to speak, and what brains they
have are a damage to them. On this point a study of
physiognomy is a help.

There are many rattle-headed, nervous, high-strung
horses that make good jumpers, but not every good fencer
is, by that same token, a good hunter. Almost anything
in the shape of a horse can pull a harrow or go in harness,
but for cross-country work a horse must possess the very
highest qualities and the sum total of all the virtues of the
equine race. He should possess courage that stops just
short of recklessness, great nervous force with coolness,
great energy with judgment, light-heartedness without fool-
ishness, staying qualities of the best, good breeding, perfect
manners. These are the qualifications of a high-class
cross-country horse. These are also the qualifications of a
high-class cross-country rider. If they are to be omitted
from either, the horse should not be the one to suffer, for
he has to look out for himself and the rider as well. Be-
sides all this, the horse must have suitable conformation for
the work, be a good feeder, and sound.

One can hardly hope to find so many qualifications in a
single animal, but if a horse that approaches this standard
is found, forgive his shortcomings and be consoled with

The Hunter: His Conformation 25

the reflection that if he is not as good as he should be, he
might have been worse. Remember this, too, that it is
the part of horsemanship to fit the rider to the horse rather
than to try to make the horse fit the rider. The greatest
and best thing of all is to find in a horse an agreeable
companion. A man will get on better with an old farm-
horse that fits him than with a two-thousand-dollar quali-
fied hunter that does not.

I have heard some men declare that no horse likes hunt-
ing. I am positive this is a mistake. No horse would
like hunting with some men, but most horses with the
proper conformation for saddle work do enjoy hunting
when they are properly ridden. I have seen and schooled
many green horses that from weanlings took readily to
jumping, and several that when turned into a runway would
jump back and forth over the hurdles of their own accord.
I have had several green horses that, as soon as mounted,
would of their own accord start away to the schooling-
ground. Of some of these it has been hard to say whether
they enjoyed the sport or not until they met hounds, and
then they were as ambitious to get on with them as the
rider, and not from excitement or fear, as one could tell by
the collected way in which they jumped, but from sheer
love of the sport. At a check other horses could come
and go, but directly hounds moved they were off. I
am speaking now of green horses. To some horses hunt-
ing is an irksome task that never becomes anything but
work or drudgery ; yet I believe that a large number of
well-bred horses, providing, mind you, they are not pun-
ished at their jumps by severe hands or spurs, really enjoy

26 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the sport. It also goes without saying that there must be
a great difference between a horse that has his heart in the
sport and goes at it like a school-boy from his books, and
one that has only a poor gizzard for the work. I have
dwelt on this point because it demonstrates what I wish to
bring out farther on in the chapter on " Schooling
Hunters."

Horses with short, thick necks do not make good hun-
ters. I do not know of any exception to this rule. They
are not easily brought to hand ; they invariably rein badly,
and are apt to have hard, unyielding mouths. Avoid also
a horse that carries a high head. This is another rule
without an exception. The head of a hunter is quite high
enough when his eyes are on a line with the height of his
withers, as in the picture at page 22. This low carriage
of a hunter's head is very important, and for several reasons:
( I ) It enables the rider to lean well forward as his mount
begins to spring at a jump (see page 96), and still have
room for the horse to throw up his head with freedom in
the natural act of jumping, without hitting the rider in the
face. This point will be noticed more fully later on. (2)
High-headed horses must be ridden with a shorter rein
than horses with their necks straight. This is an objec-
tionable feature, because, the longer the reins, the better and
easier the control. This will be referred to again in the chap-
ters on " Hands" and "Pulling." (3) When a high-headed
horse is ridden at a jump, especially if he pulls and his head
comes higher than its natural carriage, the animal is in a
most awkward position to take his fence. He does so at
the expense of an unnecessary amount of exertion, while

The Hunter: His Conformation 27

the rider's control of his mount is gone. (See page 28.) If
there is one sight more annoying than another, it is a high-
headed horse charging at fences and gazing at the stars.
No one likes to put martingales on hunters, and very prop-
erly not, for they need absolute freedom of their heads at
their jumps.

The position of the horse's head (page 92), when prop-
erly held, gives to the hands the greatest length of rein
and the best possible control of the mount. Control begins
to lessen as the head is raised above this point. That a
rather high-headed horse may, by being ridden v^ith a curb-
bit properly handled, have his head held in its proper place,
there is no doubt. What I wish to point out is simply
the most natural and best conformation or carriage of a
hunter's head and neck, not the method of driving a high-
headed harness type of a horse so that he may carry his
head as it should be when he is under saddle. Riders who
have had their glasses smashed, their hats knocked off,
their teeth loosened, trying to make into a hunter a horse
good except that he carried his head too high, will be shy
in the future of high-headed horses for hunting. This
point will be found illustrated at page 28. While a
hunter should be long in the neck, the neck should not
be drawn too fine. Horses with very slim necks gener-
ally bend them too easily. Nothing is more annoying
than a horse that turns only his head in answer to a pull
on the reins, while his body goes straight on. One of the
worst falls I ever saw in the hunting-field was with just
such a horse. Slim Neck wanted to follow the horse in
front of him. The rider, seeing that the ground was too

2 8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

soft on the landing side, attempted to pull his horse away ;
but the horse, instead of answering to his hand with a turn
of his body, brought his head round until it nearly touched
his rider's leg. On went the mount, striking the rail fence
breast-high, horse, rider, and fence coming down in a crash.
The rider was caught by the fence, and pinned to earth
between it and his horse — a sickening sight. Fortunately
for the rider, the ground was soft. Beside having an
awful shaking up, and the flesh of his legs horribly scraped
and bruised, he was left unconscious for several hours. The
same thing occurred to a friend of mine, whose horse went
slam-bang against a barbed-wire fence because his neck was
too weak or too limber to answer to the pull of the rider.
The poor beast was horribly mangled and nearly ruined
for life.

I have dwelt upon this point because it is one seldom, if
ever, mentioned by writers, and because we hear so much
nowadays about having " plenty of horse in front of you."
So there should be; but look well to the substance of a
hunter's neck. "There is ain thing aboot a hunter a canna
forgie," said a keen hunting friend of mine in Scotland,
" and that is a neck with na starch in it ! " The neck
can hardly be too long unless too thin; it can hardly be
too low unless too short and thick, and of two evils better
a horse that bores than a horse that soars. You sometimes
see in a dealer's stables these up-headed horses. They are
generally clean trotting-bred animals that have had their
manes pulled and their tails chopped off, and these are
their principal qualifications as hunters. Some of them can
jump, and we have seen this sort win at Madison Square

The harness type.

The hack type.

The Hunter: His Conformation 29

when conformation counted fifty or sixty per cent. To an
experienced cross-country rider, however, they look sadly
out of form.

"Slanting shoulders" is everywhere the cry. Every
author I have read, and nearly every man that rides to
hounds, if he hardly knows the fetlock from the forelock,
will tell you a horse is no good for a hunter without slant-
ing shoulders. So universal has this cry become that it
suggests the parrot. "Slanting shoulders! Look at his
slanting shoulders!" But when you ask a man why he is
so fond of slanting shoulders, the usual answer is: "Well,
because '^ hunter should have slanting shoulders!" Occa-
sionally a man will venture to say a horse with slanting
shoulders can gallop faster. This is manifestly incorrect.
Some of the fastest horses that have ever turned a track
have had rather upright and sometimes even loaded
shoulders.

There was the celebrated thoroughbred stallion Barrett,
by Bonnie Scotland, that held the three-quarter-mile record
(1.14) for years. He was sent to England by Mr. Pierre
Lorillard, with Iroquois, at the time that horse won the
Derby, being the owner's favourite for that event, but
scratched for uncertain starting at the post. This horse
Barrett had not only rather upright but decidedly loaded
shoulders. This, indeed, was the characteristic of many of
the Bonnie Scotlands, and as a family they were the most
celebrated record-breaking runners of their generation.
So much for galloping. Through the kindness of Mr-
Thomas Hitchcock, Jr., Barrett was sent to Genesee Val-
ley, and for eleven years was at the head of the Squawkie

30 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Hill Stud for getting hunters. It is safe to say that
although most of his descendants were similar in confor-
mation in this respect, no other thoroughbred stallion in
America has produced so many high-class cross-country
horses as this same stallion Barrett. So much for the
jumping. We must look further than simply the slant of
a hunter's shoulder. I am sorry to antagonise this most
common belief in slanting shoulders ; one dislikes to sow
seeds of discord among pet theories. But this slanting-
shoulder craze has gone beyond all reason.

Let us see if we cannot find a better reason than because,
or speedy O'C jumping qualities. Let us see if we cannot set up
a hypothesis that will stand more of an assault than the
present theories for slanting shoulders. A little reflection
will prove that the proper position of a saddle on a horse
for cross-country work, where there is jumping to be done,
is one that places the rider well back, so that his weight
comes as near the centre of gravity as possible. Flat-ra-
cing and cross-country riding are things of entirely different
colour. The forward seat, over the horse's shoulders, — a
seat, in fact, where the position of a jockey lying along the
neck of his mount brings the rider's centre of gravity well
over, if not forward of, the fore legs of his mount, — has
been demonstrated beyond question to be the very best po-
sition under which a horse on the flat can extend him-
self. Doubtless a horse with the weight on the shoulders
makes the lift of the weight with the spring of the fore
legs, which leaves the hind legs and quarters to do the pro-
pelling with the least possible hindrance. On the other
hand, while a horse may be ridden with the centre of grav-

J3
o

u

O

c

O

0-1

O

u

The Hunter; His Conformation 31

ity over his fore legs across a field, it is obvious that in tak-
ing a fence the best, the easiest, the most secure position of
the rider must be well back. The position of a boy on a
rocking-horse, or a person in a rocking-chair, best illustrates
my meaning. When the centre of gravity on either the
wooden rocking-horse or rocking-chair is forward of the
centre, the motion is laboured and all in one direction. If
a person sits too far forward in a rocking-chair, the forward
rock corresponds to the landing side of a jump, and assists
greatly in producing a spill. Seated too far back, one can-
not make the rocker go forward without an undue exertion.
This illustrates the taking-off position of a jump : the horse,
like the person in the rocker, must make an unusual effort
to carry the rider forward. This is so plain and simple a
condition that it seems almost absurd to mention it. How-
ever, it best illustrates the point under discussion. The
theory of slanting shoulders is that they usually (but not
always) have the effect of keeping the saddle well back, so
that the rider does sit nearly at the centre of gravity of his
mount. This he is able to maintain, when the horse is
jumping, by simply leaning well forward as the animal rises
to the obstacle, sitting upright when over the centre, and
leaning well back as the animal descends, as illustrated at
page 98. So far, I venture to say, the majority of my
readers will agree. But, I ask, what is the value of slant-
ing shoulders when, as sometimes happens, a horse is low
in the withers, letting the saddle well forward ? It is evi-
dent that, for keeping the rider back near the centre of
gravity, high, sloping withers have quite as much virtue as
slanting shoulders, for a horse may have the latter without

3 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the former. Personally, I prefer a rather straight shoulder-
blade, with high, full, sloping withers, to the most slanting
shoulder-blade with low withers that lets the saddle forward
on the shoulders. It is not enough to go strong on slant-
ing shoulders, when it is quite as much a question of the
conformation of the withers, and more a question of the
setting on of the fore legs. That many men confound
withers and shoulders, there can be little doubt ; this point
is fully illustrated at page 32. Nor is this all: if a horse,
as is quite often the case, has slanting shoulders, and also a
long oblique true arm that brings the setting on of the fore
legs well back, you have lost at this point all you have
gained by the slanting shoulder. In other words, when
you have a slanting shoulder with a long oblique true arm,
it may bring the fore leg so far back that the centre of
gravity has practically been moved ahead. So far, there-
fore, as gravity is concerned, you might just as well have
either a straight shoulder with high, full withers, or a
straight shoulder with a short upright and true arm. Or,
again, if you have a slanting shoulder with a long oblique
true arm, or a slanting shoulder with low withers, the end
in view has been defeated. I have dwelt on this at length
because slanting shoulders are everywhere so much in
favour, as if they were the alpha and omega of a hunter's
conformation. At page 32 will be found an illustration
(Fig. 3) showing the conformation of an ideal hunter with
full, sloping withers that bring the rider well back over the
centre of gravity on the upper line ; it will be observed, too,
from the position where the girth would come, that the
fore legs also are properly placed ; that is, well forward.

rjf, Rider's centre ol gravity: w, withers; s, shoulder-blade; /, true arm ; e, elbow-joint; g, girths.

Fig. I. Upright shoulder with full sloping withers, keeping saddle and rider well back over horse's centre ; g, gravity.

Fig. 2. Slanting shoulder with low withers, letting rider four or five inches farther forward than in Fig. i.

Fig. J. Slanting shoulder, full sloping withers with upright true arm, bringing horse's fore leg well forward of girths ;

best possible conformation for cross-country work.
Fig. 4. Slanting shoulder and full withers, same as Fig. 3. but along obliijue true arm, placing the fovc legs farther back

than in I'ig 3, practically moves rider's centre of gravity forward iu .sjiite of slanting shoulder and full withers.

The Hunter: His Conformation 33

The reason why ladies in riding cross country to hounds
are so uniformly successful in negotiating fences without
falls is owing undoubtedly to their sitting sideways on the
horse; that is to say, the centre of gravity of the rider is
more generally brought over the centre of gravity of the
horse than in the case of men, who, riding astride, sit more
forward, especially if they ride with long stirrups.

We shall have occasion to refer to this matter again
when speaking of " Seat " and ** Jumping Fences." The
whole thing is summed up: Select a horse with withers
running well back and fore legs well forward of the girth ;
these points secured, the shoulders may be left to take care
of themselves. It is doubtful if the mere slant of the
shoulder-blades plays any great part in the conformation of
a hunter. It must be said, however, that the right sort of
withers are more often found in company with slanting
shoulders than otherwise.

As for hips, do not turn your back on a horse with
rather ragged hips and a sloping rump. They are not pretty
or symmetrical, but if they carry the muscle well down to
the hocks, you generally find that such a horse can gather
his legs well under him for a spring, as shown at page i 18.
This is one of the chief characteristics of the Irish hunter,
and for fencing he has no equal.

It is hardly necessary to mention legs, those necessary
auxiliaries to a horse. Plenty of bone and especially large
knee and hock joints are most desirable. Pasterns on the
long side for choice, and plenty of room between elbow-joint
and body, are desirable. Do not be over-particular about
splints or even curbs. The former are found on three- and

34 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

four-year-olds more often than in horses of six and seven
years. They usually disappear by absorption. That a young
horse has them is as much to his credit as it is for a child
to have the measles or chicken-pox.

Splints, and curbs too, lame a horse sometimes when they
first appear. Do not condemn a horse with sickle hocks if
there is plenty of bone. They are very often found on the
most powerful jumpers.

Do not require a hunter to be too short-coupled. This
is another threadbare sign that is always quoted as desirable.
If a horse is to gallop he must have length somewhere.
If he has a short top line or coupling, he must have length
underneath or he cannot stride away. There must be room
to get the stifles forward, or you will have a short choppy-
gaited horse, and a most uncomfortable one. The short
back is well enough theoretically, but not in practice.
Three and even four inches between the last rib and hip
are not too much, unless the horse has a weak loin. A
light, slack loin is to be avoided in a horse, whether his
back be long or short.

A horse is usually as long in the body as he is high from
the ground to the top of the withers. In many standard
bred trotters and in some thoroughbreds length exceeds
height. This proportion is also desirable in a hunter.

A well-formed horse usually measures as far from the
top of the withers to the under side of the body just back
of the fore legs as he does from that point to the ground.
If there is any difference in this measurement, let it be
added to the body, not to the legs. A sixteen-and-one

The Hunter: His Conformation 35

body, both in height and length, on fifteen-three legs is far
preferable to the reverse.

A hunter, to be comfortable, should not unduly spread
the legs of his rider by being too wide through the heart.
However, the other extreme is equally bad, for there must
be lung capacity ; and whatever a horse lacks in breadth
through the heart he should make up in depth ; the deeper
the better. The round-backed and thick-hearted horses so
desirable in harness are not to be considered for a moment
for saddle work, especially if they have, as is usually the
case, low withers. When you have had a saddle turn with
you once or twice, you will, like the writer, have learned
this lesson by heart. Broad-chested horses are very apt to
roll in their gait.

For size, the question depends somewhat on the country
to be hunted. A rough country requires a smaller or
shorter-legged horse than a country which is flat. My
own experience is that a horse from fifteen-two-and-a-half
to fifteen-three is invariably the best in jumping and staying
qualities. To a man on a horse of sixteen hands the fences
do not look so high, but this is of slight advantage when
other aspects of the problem are considered. The truth is,
there seems to be just about so much force or endurance in
a horse, and this lessens as you spread it out over more than
the natural size of the family to which the horse belongs.
Increased size invariably brings coarseness, putting the
animal, so to speak, out of balance with himself.

As to disposition, the best in the world is none too good.
A man may have ridden all sorts of horses and first-class

36 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

jumpers, but if he has never found a partner with intelH-
gence enough to enjoy the sport as well as he himself does,
he has yet to enjoy one of the principal delights of a day
with hounds. Such horses are not plentiful. When a man
finds one, he will probably regret it as long as he lives if he
parts with him. Out of a hundred hunters you can prob-
ably count the genuine sportsmen, the genuine hunters, on
the fingers of one hand. In this respect the Irish hunters
outclass all others. They are like the people who breed
them, always ready for a lark, yet having the keenest in-
stinct for self-preservation. They are light-hearted to a
degree, and nothing suits them better than to have a hurly-
burly rough-and-tumble scurry across country. They are
just reckless and bold enough for such a game, and when
mouthed and educated as only Irish hunters are, they will
give you a day's hunting to be remembered as long as
you live. I have seen them so joyous at the sight of hounds
as fairly to squeal with delight, jumping and playing from
sheer effervescence of light-heartedness. Such an one is
the horse for a companion, the horse for a partner in a
day's sport. A genuine sportsman himself, he will pull you
through. His heart as well as yours is in the game.

There remains the final test of what may be called '* the
personal equation." If he fails to pass this, reject him on
the spot. You may be surprised to find your supposed ideal
hunter not at all to your liking. He does not fit you, and
you cannot seem to make yourself fit him. You feel un-
comfortable on him, just as you would on a rocking-horse
or a rocking-chair that pitched you too freely forward or
backward. Seated on a horse that feels comfortable under

The Hunter: His Conformation 37

you in all his paces, you have found the horse for you.
Look no further, let size, colour, markings, or confor-
mation be what they may. You will be surprised, in try-
ing twenty fine-looking horses, to find, perhaps, that only
four or five seem to fit you. A personal trial is the supreme
test of excellence in a hunter.

i

IV
BREEDING HUNTERS

I

The grass in the paddock grows up to her chest.
Her tail has grown down to the ground.

There under the oak she is taking her rest ;

Her beautiful foal, who is one of the best.
Flies by with a leap and a bound."

POEMS IN PINK

IV
BREEDING HUNTERS

THE BEST BREED GENERAL PRINCIPLES IN BREEDING SELECTION

OF SIRE AND DAM SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES

TREATMENT OF MARE AND FOAL

|H0R0UGHBREDS or thoroughbred grades
are the only horses whose general conforma-
tion makes them particularly suitable for
saddle work. First of all, they are to the
manner born, and their gaits, low in action, long in stride,
elastic in motion, place them so far above all other breeds
of horses for riding purposes that they have no competitors
whatever. Long neck and low carriage of head, short
upright true arm, great courage, endurance, and superior
intelligence qualify them as the breed of all breeds best
adapted for cross-country work. Unnumbered generations
of careful breeding distinguish them as the aristocracy of
the equine race. They have spirit and mettle, and indeed
are of such a highly strung nervous temperament that it often
requires a bit of horsemanship to get on with them ; yet,
when a rider once learns to fit himself to their ways and
humour their eccentricities, he is spoiled forever after-
ward for any other breed of horses. Thoroughbreds are
not the horses for the uninitiated ; they are, as Mr. Thomas

41

42 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Hitchcock aptly expresses it, " horsemen's horses." Most
men who attempt cross-country riding begin with half-
breeds, and generally end by riding nothing less than seven-
eighths or clean-bred thoroughbreds.

It is generally believed that in producing half- and three-
quarter-bred horses the thoroughbred blood should come
from the sire's side. Some of the highest class hunters I
have ever known, however, have been bred the other way,
the sire's side supplying the cold blood.

Blue Rock, a famous hunter and steeplechaser, owned
by Mr. William Littauer of the Genesee Valley Hunt,* is
out of a clean-bred thoroughbred mare by a trotting-bred
stallion. Blue Rock is a plain-looking horse, but his dis-
position is faultless, and his fencing and speed between the
flags and his most perfect performances in jumping contests
have won any number of cups and prizes for his owner, who
believes he is the best all-round horse that ever lived. The
Duke of Beaufort, editor of the Badminton books on sport,
says: "I prefer both sire and dam to be well-bred, but a
well-bred mare and an underbred horse will produce a faster
animal than a thoroughbred horse and an underbred mare."

In a work of this kind there is room for only a few
thoughts on the subject of breeding, and we will content
ourselves with noting a few fundamentals not found in the
usual works on horse-breeding. After fifteen years of ex-
perience with a stud consisting of thoroughbreds, hackneys,
English and French coach-horses, and thirty years in breed-
ing cattle and sheep, the author may state his belief in a
few general rules of breeding.

* See page 22.

Breeding Hunters 43

Prepotent sires may generally be relied upon to transmit
their conformation or external form, while the dams more
generally transmit internal qualities, such as courage, speed,
endurance, and vices. The characteristics of prepotent
sires, however, are usually more noticeable in their daugh-
ters, the sons in this respect generally resembling their
dams. Again, prepotent sires are generally found to trans-
mit their own qualities to the second generation through
their daughters, while the characteristics of the dams are
handed down to the second generation through their sons,
as in this simple diagram :

Sire son second generation

Dam daughter second generation

This seems to be nature's way of preserving the balance
of power between the sexes. It will be observed that the
above refers particularly to prepotent sires. There is little
use in attempting to formulate any rules concerning any
others. Most rules or theories in regard to breeding are
beset with so many exceptions that it is very difficult to
establish them.

Of one thing, however, I am thoroughly convinced :
that variations or abnormal characteristics are received
principally from the dam and are acquired during the pe-
riod of gestation.

We are always repeating that old maxim, " Like produces
like "; yet this cannot be strictly true, else there would never
have been variations. All the different families of horses

44 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

are undoubtedly descendants of one common stock. From
the Shetland pony of three hundredweight to the mammoth
Shire that tips the beam at thirty hundredweight, the
pony of Wales, the Clyde of Scotland, the thoroughbred
of England, and the trotter of America — all have one
common ancestry. It is manifestly inaccurate, therefore,
to say like produces like. The saying may be true in a
certain degree of animals in a state of nature, but certainly
not of animals under domestication. And so far as man is
responsible for these variations, we should like to know
when and under what circumstances he must act, or does
act, to develope them.

These artificial characteristics start in variations which,
by careful selecting, breeding, and intelligent feeding, may
in time become dominant. When acquired or artificial
characteristics become dominant, then they may, under
favourable circumstances, be transmittable.

If a colt is better suited for cross-country work than
either its sire or its dam or any of its more remote ances-
tors, a variation or artificial characteristic has been pro-
duced. I firmly believe that, whatever degree of excellence
an animal ultimately arrives at above that of its ancestors,
it receives the impetus from its parents. Subsequent care,
feeding, and climatic influences may develope it, but cannot
produce it. The time when it is within man's power to
assist in the moulding and fashioning of the colt must be
prior to its birth.

Confucius taught that the age of a child should begin to
be recorded from a year before it was born. It is on this
principle, whether it has been recognised or not, that all

Breeding Hunters 45

great improvements have been made in domestic animals.
Blackwell, Boothe, Bales, the noted short-horn breeders, on
this principle developed the great short-horn families of
cattle. The dairy breeds of cattle have been evolved by a
similar schooling of the unborn calves for the greater pro-
duction of milk and butter, until they have become as
proficient in their way as have the great beef-producing
families in the attainment of early maturity and easy fatten-
ing qualities.

The standard bred trotter is an offshoot of the thorough-
bred. The trotting gait has developed in the offspring a
conformation quite different from that of the thoroughbred,
one that is better adapted to the purpose. Training may
have developed the latent force the animal possessed, but as
a spring cannot rise above its source, neither can an animal,
after its birth, rise above its inherent character. The
treatment of the sire before conception, and especially the
treatment of the dam afterward, may elevate it.

Anything you can do toward the education of the colt
through his dam, the better. The dam should be turned
out as soon as possible after conception, and treated and fed
in a way to relax her muscles ; yet nothing better can hap-
pen to the unborn colt than to have its dam occasionally
used in schooling green hunters, say once a week or so.
The best and most natural hunters that I ever raised came
from mares that had this identical training. The best
driving-horse I ever bred came from a mare that was occa-
sionally driven while carrying her foal. While carrying
her next colt by the same horse, the mare was never in
harness, and the difference in the two colts as they grew

46 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

up was so pronounced as to call my attention particularly
to this subject. The first colt was a decided improvement
on either sire or dam as to harness or road work, while
the second one was barely up to and certainly not beyond
them. The third colt by the same horse was a better
roadster, but smaller than either the first or second, and I
attributed this to my overdoing the matter in my desire
to educate the third colt. The mare's muscles were not
relaxed enough to give the colt proper room for develop-
ment, and it never attained the size I believe it would
otherwise have reached.

What makes a colt a better roadster than any of its
ancestors ? What power elevates a foal to a greater degree
of proficiency and usefulness in cross-country work than its
original stock ? I believe it is clearly within the bounds
of reason, and to be demonstrated by any one with an op-
portunity to test it, that it is owing to the imprint of a
desire. If the sins of the fathers may be transmitted to
the second and third generation, why not the virtues of the
mothers ? Many mothers have children that are reproduc-
tions, not of what they themselves are, but of what they
temporarily were in thoughts, moods, and actions. The
occasional use of a brood mare for a short cross-country ride
during the period of gestation does the mare no harm, and
can hardly fail to imprint upon the future generation an
influence for good.

My personal observation of this has been so striking that
I do not hesitate to say a little schooling of this sort may
help the future colt more in the part he is to play in the
" noble science " than months of schooling after he is old

Breeding Hunters 47

enough to break. He may be expected to know some
things intuitively that his mother had to be taught, and to go
the right way about them from the first. A variation will
have been produced, slight although it may be. In Ire-
land, in-foal-mares are more often hunted than in any other
country, and where in the wide world can one find such
natural-born hunters as in the Emerald Isle? I shall have
occasion to refer to some practical illustrations of this under
the chapter on "Schooling."

To my readers who have never given thought to this
particular point in the science of breeding I beg to offer
encouragement in it. If they are wanting in faith, let me
ask what proofs they have that animals as well as men are
not affected for good or ill in embryo ? I should advise all
such to begin their research by reading the experiments of
Jacob and his receipt for producing spotted cattle, and fol-
low this up with the volumes of scientific matter touching
heredity. So firmly am I convinced of the great impor-
tance of this question that I believe the day will come
when the best breeders will recognise it as a fundamental
principle in the art of breeding for improvement.

The object most desired in the breeding of hunters is
the production of quality plus size. It is no trick at all to
turn out small horses with quality. Horses of from fifteen
to fifteen and a half hands often have quality to spare.
The problem is to be able to obtain sixteen-hand horses
and over which have body and bone and substance through-
out in proportion to their increased size, and still retain in
them the quality of the finer and smaller animals. The
general method of selecting as sire the largest stallion that

48 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

can be found, though theoretically sound, in practice sel-
dom results satisfactorily. Size, with coarseness or lack of
symmetry, which is still more objectionable, invariably fol-
lows the mating of a large stallion with a small or medium-
sized mare. Strange as it may seem, size with quality is
invariably attained by mating a medium-sized stallion with
a large or at least a roomy mare. The reason of this is
obvious when we recall the fact that conformation follows
the sire. Mere size in colts is more a question of room in
the mare, of abundance of nutritious food during the period
of gestation, and of a plentiful supply of milk from the
dam after the colt is born. Of the two conditions neces-
sary to grow a colt with size, — a roomy mare and feed, —
the former is perhaps the more important. The disappoint-
ment that invariably results for hunting men who breed
their best hunting mare to the best stallion they can find
comes from not understanding this simple fact.

A mare that is kept constantly at work during the period
of gestation is physically incapacitated to produce a sizable
foal, owing to having hard, contracted, or unyielding
muscles. It is on this account that the first foals of mares
accustomed to work are usually inferior in size to the sub-
sequent foals. This should teach us that the mare should
be taken from work soon after mating, and treated in every
way possible to relax her muscles. At the same time she
should be fed liberally on all the succulent food she can
eat, with bran and crushed oats added during the latter half
of the period. With a medium-sized stallion of the high-
est quality, and a mare made as roomy as possible, you may
rely on feed to produce the necessary variation in size.

Breeding Hunters 49

With such a selection for the sire, with such a treatment
of the dam, with such liberal feeding of the colt through
the dam, it will not be the breeder's fault, to say the least,
if the colt is lacking in either size or quality.

The next thing of importance is — after the colt is
born — to feed the mare with the one idea of producing a
bountiful supply of milk. Although the colt at birth may
have latent the qualities one desires, one must remember it
still remains for the breeder to see that it has the food neces-
sary to develope that inheritance.

There is one other point I must not fail to mention
concerning the selection of a stallion. No sire, no matter
what his breeding may be, is worthy of serious considera-
tion unless he is thoroughly and throughout masculine.
I have little or no faith in these effeminate stallions which,
especially among our standard breds, are so much seen.
I should look with suspicion on any stallion " as quiet as a
mare," though this, in the estimation of some men, seems
to be the sum total of excellence. A stallion, to my mind,
should be of such a disposition and strength and courage as
would naturally place him at the head of a herd or drove
of wild horses. In the breeding of all domestic animals,
we should strive to seek such sires as would come to the
front by natural selection, that we may work in harmony
with nature's law, i.e., " the survival of the fittest."

We shall not attempt now to follow this most interesting
question of breeding further. We have only attempted to
touch upon such points as practical experience and observa-
tion have found running contrary to generally accepted
theories, or which are omitted by other writers.

50 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

For the sake of brevity these points may be summa-
rised as follows :

Breed from a clean-bred thoroughbred either on the
sire's or dam's side.

Prepotent sires transmit their conformation, or external
form and quality.

The dam transmits the internal qualities, such as endur-
ance and the vices and virtues.

All families of horses have a common ancestry.

What an animal is above its original parents, that much
it is artificial.

Like does not always produce like.

Variation in domestic animals is principally due to man.

Acquired or artificial characteristics, by selection and
breeding and feeding become dominant.

Dominant characteristics become transmittable.

No animal can raise itself above its inherent level.

Variation or improvement in characteristics takes place
before birth.

Variations are transmitted principally from the dam, and
are acquired during the period of gestation.

The best time to begin the schooling of a hunter is
before it is born.

Man's opportunity to breed for improvement ceases at
birth. At that moment the die is cast.

A sire of medium size, thoroughly masculine, and of the
highest quality throughout, should be chosen ; also a dam
roomy, or made as much so as possible.

Feed is more potent than breed in producing size.

The best way to feed a colt is through its dam.

Breeding Hunters 51

Our solicitude for the foal before it is born is to produce
a variation that will place it above the level of its parents,
the better to fit it for the one special purpose in life for
which it is intended. We have left to the sire the task of
supplying the colt with the quality we desire. It only
remains for us to produce size, which, as we have shown, is
the result of food and feeding principally.

When the owner can provide succulent food and
stables of sufficient warmth, January is the best time for the
young hopeful to arrive. If these conditions cannot be
fulfilled the colt had better postpone his coming until there
is a good bite of grass. In either case, during the season
before, if ensilage is not at hand, a patch of roots — car-
rots or beets — should be provided as a succulent food. Dur-
ing the autumn before, a patch of rye should be sown for a
soiling-crop, to be followed by sowings of vetches and pease
or oats and pease, so that by fly-time mare and foal may be
put in a box during the daytime with a liberal feeding of
green forage. Mare and colt should be turned out to pas-
ture during the night only ; otherwise one not only feeds
the colt through the mare, but myriads of flies through the
colt. Mother and ofi^spring will thus be provided with
plenty of exercise, and if the stable is properly ventilated,
and darkened to exclude the flies, as it should be, you will
have surrounded both matron and foal with the very best
conditions for the comfort and happiness of the one and
the growth of the other.

A feeding of bran with a few crushed oats once a day in
the stall will be found the best possible investment. The
feed should be in a trough long and low enough to enable

5 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the foal to join the mother, which it will very soon learn
to do. This is also an excellent time to accustom the colt
to be handled and later to be introduced to the halter.
But this, as Kipling says, "is another story." Young
mothers make much better milkers, as a rule, than mares
who do not begin breeding until later in life. Whatever
the breeder can do he should to assist the mother in pro-
ducing a plentiful supply of milk. It is from the rich,
succulent pastures of Great Britain that the horses and
cattle of great size have come. The scanty feed on the
Welsh hills and mountains has produced ponies. Whatever
you do, provide soiling-crops for your mare and foal.

Feed is the making of breed, but it is the making of
breed so far only as to produce variation in size. Variation
of characteristics comes, not from food, but from the imprint
of a desire.

Flies have robbed more owners of animals that would
otherwise have been a credit to them as breeders than any
other one thing that can be mentioned. On this account
it is better to have the colt come in January or in the
autumn, so as to have attained the size and strength neces-
sary to fight for his life, as he is almost required to do
during the fly season. What would many of us not give
to have a colt out of our favourite hunting mare that should
be a credit to the mare? How many thousands have tried
and failed ? Let the writer's anxiety to point out what he
believes to be the cause of such failures, and his kindly
interest in hunting men in general and every high-class
hunting mare in particular, be his excuse for this over-
grown chapter.

V

SCHOOLING HUNTERS

5 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the foal to join the mother, which it will very soon learn
to do. This is also an excellent time to accustom the colt
to be handled and later to be introduced to the halter.
But this, as Kipling says, '*is another story." Young
mothers make much better milkers, as a rule, than mares
who do not begin breeding until later in life. Whatever
the breeder can do he should to assist the mother in pro-
ducing a plentiful supply of milk. It is from the rich,
succulent pastures of Great Britain that the horses and
cattle of great size have come. The scanty feed on the
Welsh hills and mountains has produced ponies. Whatever
you do, provide soiling-crops for your mare and foal.

Feed is the making of breed, but it is the making of
breed so far only as to produce variation in size. Variation
of characteristics comes, not from food, but from the imprint
of a desire.

Flies have robbed more owners of animals that would
otherwise have been a credit to them as breeders than any
other one thing that can be mentioned. On this account
it is better to have the colt come in January or in the
autumn, so as to have attained the size and strength neces-
sary to fight for his life, as he is almost required to do
during the fly season. What would many of us not give
to have a colt out of our favourite hunting mare that should
be a credit to the mare? How many thousands have tried
and failed ? Let the writer's anxiety to point out what he
believes to be the cause of such failures, and his kindly
interest in hunting men in general and every high-class
hunting mare in particular, be his excuse for this over-
grown chapter.

V
SCHOOLING HUNTERS

" Nor will it less delight th' attentive sage

T' observe that instinct vv^hich unerring guides
The brutal race, w^hich mimics reason's lore
And oft transcends."

SOMERVILLE

V
SCHOOLING HUNTERS

THE BEST AGE TO BEGIN MOUTHING AND LEARNING TO DRIVE

SCHOOLING FOR SADDLE WORK LEARNING TO JUMP,

RIGHT WAY LEARNING TO JUMP, WRONG WAY

'HEN in 1880 I moved into the Genesee
S Valley and began the breeding, rearing, and
schooling of hunters, I was thoroughly green
at the business, and had quite as much to
learn of the colts and green hunters as they had of me.
Twenty-odd years of experience and observation before and
after this have produced some very decided notions as to
the best methods of schooling as well as breeding hunters.
Others, of course, may have succeeded as well as I on en-
tirely different lines, and as to the value of my system must
judge for themselves.

We have shown in the previous chapter that a hunter's
education should begin before he is born. If the in-foal-
mare happen to have a foal-at-foot, a most excellent oppor-
tunity is offered to give both colts a kindergarten lesson in
cross-country work. The foal-at-foot will readily follow
its mother over a log or across a small ditch. Even if at
first it goes around the log and steps carefully down into

55

56 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the ditch and out again, it will discover presently that it
can more easily jump the log or the ditch than go around.
Colts learn with astonishing quickness when they have
the example of their mothers before them. The dam
going over the obstacle first seems to give the colt the best
possible incentive to follow, and an incentive in a colt's
head is worth half a dozen stable-boys with half a dozen
whips at his heels.

And look at the foal ever close in her wake.

The young one is true to the breed ;
He judges his distance and knows how to take
Off, just in the right place, and he lands with a shake

Of his head that shows courage and speed.

It was purely an accident that led me to the adoption
of this system. A young horse who was being broken to
jump not taking kindly to his fences, an old mare in the
field was bridled and saddled to give the novice a lead.
The foal-at-foot was put out of sight in the barn-yard, but
broke out and joined her mother on the schooling-ground,
and, rather than separate them again, was allowed to remain.
We thought the foal would run around the wings of the
jumps ; but she would take no chances of being separated a
second time from her dam, and took all the jumps by the
mother's side. To make a long story short, the two colts
thus educated were the most natural cross-country horses I
ever saw. The younger one especially would, as a weanling,
jump back and forth over the bars in a runway of her
own accord for the sheer love of the sport. This was the
chance beginning of a system of training that has been
most successful in producing natural jumpers, as well as

Schooling Hunters 57

prize-winners at Madison Square and fairs in western New
York.

Whyte-Melville, in his work " Riding Recollections,"
has something of the same import to say about Irish brood
mares. In some counties of Ireland, he relates, the brood
mare, with foal-at-foot, is allowed to run wild over exten-
sive districts and leaps in leisurely fashion over stone
hedges or mounds of turned-up sod from pasture to pasture,
never asking for a gate. Wherever the mother goes the
little one dutifully follows, acquiring instinctive courage
and sagacity that are afterward to be the admiration of
crowded hunting-fields.

Certain general principles of horse-lore the trainer should
always bear in mind :

( 1 ) The horse is intellectually the most highly devel-
oped and temperamentally the most nervous of domestic
animals.

(2) He is capable of being trained to a very high de-
gree of proficiency in any direction consistent with his
environment.

( 3 ) His one great weakness is fear ; yet he may come to
have such confidence in man that he will perform feats of
daring and face danger which under ordinary circumstances
he would never attempt.

(4) The secret of successful horse education is the de-
velopment of confidence, and anything, therefore, that can
be done to strengthen or promote confidence may be
accounted an aid to his education. Similarly, anything
conducive to fear is a hindrance to his schooling.

On these simple fundamental principles " hangs all the

58 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

law." It is one thing to break a horse, and another to
educate him. Keep in mind the animal's natural timidity,
and seek always to overcome this by winning his confidence.

One of the most important things in the training of a
horse is mouthing. The universal fault with nearly all
American- and Canadian-bred horses is that they have " no
mouths," the causes being severe bits, bad hands, and driving
begun without a course of ** mouthing."

When we consider that all our commands or wishes are
communicated to a horse through the lines and the bit in
his mouth, the importance of having a horse with a sensi-
tive mouth is apparent ; and if this is true of horses in
general, what shall be said of the necessity of having sensi-
tive mouths in horses that are to carry us through a run to
hounds, where the excitement is little short of a cavalry
charge on the field of battle ? A person is supposed to ride
to hounds for the pleasure it affords. What pleasure can a
man derive from sitting on a puller that makes him work
his passage from start to finish ?

Of all horses, the most objectionable on a hunting-field
is first the puller and second the rusher at his fences — gen-
erally they are one and the same animal. No horse is
quite fit to be ridden to hounds until he can be safely rid-
den with a common ring-snaffle bit. Most horses' mouths
have become so calloused and deadened to feeling by severe
usage in breaking them, and by bad, heavy hands after-
ward, that nothing short of a very severe bit or curb can
control them. The first bit put into a colt's mouth had
better be a smooth wooden one attached to the halter with-
out reins, or a straight iron one covered with leather.

Schooling Hunters 59

One hour is quite long enough for the first lessons. After
a week of this preliminary bitting, the " dumm jockey "
and slack reins may be added. After this may come the
guiding lessons with long driving-reins run through the
side-rings of the dumm jockey.

During the first driving lessons the colt should be
handled on the barn floor or some other small enclosure.
Besides the wooden or smooth iron bit, place in his mouth
the loop of a cord, the cord being carried over the head or
neck, behind the ears, down through the loops, and on
the back through a ring in the dumm jockey. When he is
taken outside he will be sure to attempt to run. Now,
instead of attempting to restrain him vigorously by the
reins, bring him to hand by the use of the cord, which
does not aflfect the part of the mouth you wish to keep
sensitive to the bit.

If a colt can be thoroughly broken to drive and ride
without impairment of the sensitiveness of his mouth, we
have accomplished one of the most important feats con-
nected with horse education. Of course this takes time,
and is contrary to the so-called " breaking " system, which
invariably ruins the mouth and many times breaks the spirit
and heart of a colt before it has accomplished anything
toward the animal's education. This question of mouth-
ing a colt is much better understood in England, and espe-
cially in Ireland, than in America. We shall notice this
subject again in the chapter on " Hands."

After the colt has learned to rein right and left and to
back, a sack of bran fastened on behind the dumm jockey for
an hour a day is a good thing to accustom him to weight.

6o Cross Country with Horse and Hound

The bran may be substituted by oats, or still heavier grain,
for a week or more, before a boy is put up. The colt
could no doubt be mounted much sooner ; but the slower
way is best.

Nine colts out of ten can be thoroughly broken without
ever striking them a blow with the whip. If one takes
time, it is only in very rare cases that the whip is necessary.
When colts or horses set up a fight, throw them carefully.
There is nothing that takes the conceit out of a horse like
being thrown. Be sure he knows it is you that do it, and
that it is by your hand he is liberated. If a colt or horse
absolutely refuses to jump a fence, it is usually because of
fear, and you should return to lower jumps to restore his
confidence in himself. If the fight is one of viciousness
and a trial for mastery, take him to the stable and throw
him. There is nothing like it. But, whatever you do,
never jerk or maul him about.

Always bring a colt on slowly in his lessons, and let the
lessons be easy. Never in one lesson ask him to do quite
all you know he can, and you will give him the idea that
he can do anything you ask him to. You may break a.
colt by fear, but confidence is the means by which he is
educated.

A horse does not reason, but he has a very highly de-
veloped instinct. He learns by absorption, which is the
result of association. By association, companionship with
man, his wonderful instinct is developed to a degree little
less effective than reason. He should be convinced that
whatever you do is right ; that you are his best friend.
Never deceive or disappoint him, and you will soon find

Schooling Hunters 6i

him looking to you, believing in you, and having faith and
confidence in all you do and say. Wherein lies our
supremacy over these powerful animals ? Entirely in their
imagination. As long as you can keep their confidence, a
silken cord will lead them. Make them mind through
fear, and your only safety is in an iron chain.

What if it does take a little time ? Think of the time it
takes to teach us men some of the simplest things! We
do not ask a boy to do fractions until he has had a lot of
schooling at easier work. We know that it would dis-
courage him and cause him to lose interest. The same
thing happens when we rush a colt on in his lessons. He
is confused and rattled, makes some big mistake, hurts him-
self, becomes frightened, hates the work, loses confidence,
thinks his trainer a fool, falls back on his own judgment,
gets a thrashing, fights back, gets another, gives up ex-
hausted, and finally drops to the level of a slave. With no
heart, no interest, he shirks all he can, and is sold or dies
without regret, all because we were in a hurry. And there
is no horse that more requires the slow, methodical training
than the colt destined to be a high-class hunter, because,
as I have already shown, he must possess so many high-
class qualifications.

For jumping, if you are to begin with a weanling, let
him find a bar eighteen inches high obstructing his way —
one he can with effort step over — when he goes to and from
water, or a ditch to jump across when going or returning
from pasture — one he can step down into at first. He will
soon take to jumping these obstacles as the easiest way of
getting over. Do not make any of these jumps anything

62 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

like as high as you know the colt could take. Keep them
low at first, so that he will not be flurried.

After a month your weanling will have such perfect con-
fidence that he will begin to acquire knowledge of other
things, viz. : how best to gather his hind legs under him
before making the spring, and also how to judge the dis-
tances. Next winter the same jumps can go a few inches
higher. He could jump four feet if you asked him, but do
not ask him. Whatever you do, keep the fences low.
The thing you wish now to teach is not high jumping, but
confidence to gather and take off. After this winter it is
quite as well not to ask the colt to jump any more until
you begin to ride him, for he may contract bad habits.

I have little faith in the " larking " system. The worst
refusers I have ever seen in the hunting-field were horses
daily larked as colts until they jumped over six feet. It is
one thing for a colt to get himself over a jump, and quite
another thing to carry weight over.

During the winter in which he reaches three years old
the colt should be bitted or mouthed as described on page59,
taught to rein and back, and be broken to harness. Toward
spring he is mounted. The following summer, when three
past, his jumping lesson with a rider up begins.

A light snaffle-bit is put on, and he is taken out, in com-
pany with an old hunter, over a ditch say two feet deep
and a log two feet high on the way to his exercise, and a
little higher across the log and at a deeper place in the
ditch coming home. The incentive of returning home
gives you this liberty. The colt himself says all this is too
easy, but give him two months of it, nevertheless. Make

Schooling Hunters 63

him walk or trot up to all the jumps and drop to a walk
immediately after. One desires anything but a rusher in
the hunting-field. Horses without confidence in themselves
invariably rush their fences. With some horses jumping
never becomes more than a sort of neck-or-nothing adven-
ture, and half-schooled horses, nervous horses, and fright-
ened horses rush. Sometimes, too, it is because these con-
ditions, one or all of them, are present in the rider.

Your colt so far has never refused. There comes a
trial of your judgment and horsemanship when a friend or
a customer rides up just as you are jogging out with slack
rein and snaffle-bit for the daily baby jumping exercise, and
the temptation assails you to show off your colt. But let
your visitor go home thinking you are afraid to put him
at anything over three feet. Bide your time.

Next fall, when he is four past, take him up. Early in
July have him shod and begin again at the easy jumps,
sometimes alone, sometimes in company, with now and
then a bit of a canter, slowing down to and after your
fences. If you can occasionally take him out with hounds
when they are going for exercise, do so. Of course you
will always ride him at his fences in a way that puts reso-
lution into the action. You settle down firmly in the
saddle, giving him to understand by the pressure of your
legs that you are ready. Of course you could go over such
a jump without all this, but you must keep in mind his
future.

When you settle into the pigskins with a grip of your
legs, it says to your colt that you see the obstacle and are
prepared to take it with him. You never have deceived

64 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

him. He believes in you thoroughly, and takes a three-
foot jump in his stride with as much confidence as he did
the eighteen-inch jump when he was a weanling. Up
to this time he has never been asked to jump over three
feet ; but now you take him out, and on the way home you
have some new things, say three-feet-six. Nothing like
that stops him now. You have jumped him a thousand
times, and it always turned out all right. At this point
you could take that colt through half a run with hounds,
and the chances are he would give many an old qualified
hunter a lead over four or even five feet of timber. He
has a nice mouth, and nothing rattles him. He does not
worry or pull, knows no such thing as refusing, has ab-
solute confidence in his rider, and can jump, and does
jump, anything. The writer has had many falls, but after
adopting this method of schooling he never had a horse go
down with him but once. An equally good report comes
from hunting men in various parts of the country who
have had experience with hunters similarly trained.

Whatever a trainer feels obliged to do by way of cor-
recting a youngster or a greenhorn, my advice is, never
punish him when he is taking a lesson, especially not when
he is in the act of jumping. A colt, if he is whipped or
spurred or injured or even made uncomfortable every time
he jumps, associates the act of jumping with something that
is going to hurt him, and refuses or rushes it, not from fear
of the jump, but of the pain he expects to accompany it.

The necessity of having a stable-boy or special rider that
has perfect hands and seat and the best of tempers should
be noted. It is not too much to say that most faults in

Schooling Hunters 65

hunters spring from the bad bringing up, bad hands, bad
seat, or bad temper of the trainer.

Such is the right way to school hunters. The method
usually adopted — the wrong way — is about as follows:

A promising half- or three-quarter-bred horse four or
five years old is bought in Canada. He has been broken
to saddle, but knows nothing about jumping. He arrives
at the owner's stable after a day and a night in the train.
The same day, or the next at latest, he is turned loose in a
runway with the bar at three feet, refuses it, gets a
whipping, is chased at it again and again, and finally jumps
it. Then he is sent at it again. Over he goes; over
again. ** Good ! " The bar is now put up to three feet
six. Over he goes, with a rap on the shins that knocks
the feeling out of his legs. "That 's all right. He '11
jump high next time." And so he does. At it again.
" Good ! " He clears the bar with a foot to spare. " He
will make a hunter; no mistake." Up goes the bar to
four feet. This last jump rattles the novice. He
jumped so high before that he was frightened by the
height he found himself at. He begins to tremble, now it
is over, at the mere recollection of it. *' Send him at it
again." After him they go, whip in hand, shouting and
yelling enough to frighten an Indian. In this next effort
the poor horse loses heart at the last moment, braces his
feet, slips, and slides against the bars shoulder-high. The
bars fall with a terrible rattle and crash at his feet.

"Put them up again! Don't let him go back to the
stable without making him accomplish what you set out to
do." At the bars goes Novice again, with a stinging cut

66 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

of the crop. The poor beast is frightened nearly out of
his wits. " Now chase after him with your whip. Oh,
horror! The fool has no sense." He was going to jump,
but lost his head; his heart failed him; took off too soon;
struck the top of the bar with such force as to send it
flying, while the frightened horse came down on the
remaining bars, his fore legs on one side of the jump, his
hind legs on the other.

Up go the bars again. A neighbour who has been
invited to see " the best horse that ever came out of
Canada " is looking on. The owner grows angry. *' He
has got to jump it now, anyway." Meanwhile the poor
horse, with wild eyes and shaking flanks, is nearly paralysed
with fear. Thus the punishment, and so-called schooling,
goes on. The next day, a boy being put up, with a man
to help on, the poor horse jumps simply to escape the pun-
ishment. He hates the sight of a runway, and of his
master as well.

See him in the hunting-field a month or two later, with
wild eyes and restless air. When hounds go away he is as
if crazy: rushes his fences; goes on; gets a thrashing for
refusing; jumps this fence; expects a thrashing and spurs at
the next as a part of the programme, but smashes into it.
For this he gets a whack as he lands. He grows worse
and worse. His owner can hardly hold him by the curb.
At the next fence he takes off too soon, landing on his head
on the opposite side, while his rider "goes to grass."

In how likely a condition will this poor brute be to be-
come a good hunter ! It is a shame that man has the
power so to abuse and ruin the happiness of a dumb brute.

to

o

J^

(U

a,

Schooling Hunters 67

Does reason say we can ever make a hunter of such a
horse ? We may make a jumper of him, but between such
a horse and the one I previously described there is an
impassable gulf. They are not to be mentioned in the
same class at all. Look at the two horses going home
after a run to hounds — one sad, melancholy, unhappy;
the other cheerfully tired, bright, and contented.

Will a horse schooled by the system herein recom-
mended never make a mistake ? Certainly he will ; but he
will not blame his rider for it. He is as eager to follow
the game as the rider is. The other horse would stop at
the first fence and go home if he could. In one you have
a boon companion, in the other a poor dumb slave. In
hunting there is, or should exist, a partnership between
rider and horse. The rider should make himself so agree-
able to the horse that the horse will never object to the
relationship.

A good hunter is one that answers to the hand readily,
has a good mouth, does not rush or bolt his fences, and is
not flustered at other horses passing or by the sight of
hounds.

VI
BUYING A HUNTER

"And when you have taken the horse as a friend
Through trouble and care, you 're prepared to defend
Him, as something sent down from above."

RHYMES IN RED

" The very sight of him makes you feel all over like 'unting."

JOROCKS

VI
BUYING A HUNTER

THE HORSE-DEALER AND THE JOCKEY TWO WAYS OF BUYING A

HORSE HOW SOME BUYERS GO ABOUT IT THE

MARRIAGE CEREMONY

HORSE-DEALER is generally looked upon
as a rogue — as if the notion prevailed that a
man can be honest and square in every business
but that of dealing in horses. When Amer-
ica was new there were what is known as horse-jockeys
or horse-traders, a profession nowadays confined mostly to
gypsies. It has come about, however, that horse-dealers
are, unfortunately, too often confounded with horse-jockeys.
I think it is not too much to say that dissatisfaction over
horse-dealing is due to the buyer, or his coachman, or a
friend, more often than to the dealer. As a matter of fact,
the deception is rarely all on the side of the dealer.

Most men go about a horse deal too craftily. They
drive up to a dealer's stables with a groom, or a friend, or
both.

*' Just passing, and thought we would come in and have
a look at your horses," they say. (Deception number one :
they came on purpose.) "Don't want to buy; just look-
ing round." (Deception number two.)

71

72 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

" Perhaps if you saw something to suit, you might buy,**
says the dealer.

" Oh, no ! More horses than I know what to do with.
Horses to sell ! " (Deception number three : they came on
purpose to buy.)

It is amusing to see how many men go about buying a
horse in this deceptive way, imagining themselves very
bright and clever. They seem to think they have hit
upon a new idea of getting the best of the dealer and
taking him off his guard. They will buy a horse
for two hundred and fifty dollars which, if the dealer
knew they wanted it, would cost three hundred dollars or
more.

Is the dealer sharp ? It is the foolish buyers who make
him so. By the time the would-be customer has looked
over two or three horses the mask drops and the dealer
can read him like a primer.

"What 's the price of this one?" the gentleman asks,
with what is intended to be great unconcern. No answer; —
the dealer wants to confirm himself in his belief that his
visitor really intends to buy. The customer repeats the
question. The dealer pays no heed, but says : " Come on,
gentlemen ; I have a promising youngster in this box."
The horse the customer has been inquiring the price of is
the horse he came to buy ; the dealer sees that he has no
interest whatever in looking at the promising youngster.
He calls attention to still another horse, — his own hunter,
for instance, — one he would not sell. " There, gentlemen,
is one of the best horses I own, but I would not recom-
mend any one to buy him."

Buying a Hunter 73

The dealer is having a bit of fun. His visitors intended
to be smart, and he has to match them.

" Should not advise any one to buy that horse .? Why
not ?" they ask. And he whispers in his customer's ear of
this or that trifling fault or defect, until finally he brings
his customer round to saying what he ought to have said
in the first place :

" What do you ask for the bay ? "

** Which bay do you refer to ? " asks the dealer, still de-
termined to bring his customer to business. He has dealt
with all sorts of horses and colts, — green ones, mild ones,
crafty ones, and vicious, — and has never failed to outgen-
eral and bring them to his own way of thinking without
their suspecting how. He is working the customer in the
same fashion.

" The bay in the box.*'

" Oh ! "

Then the dealer turns squarely to the buyer and says :
" See here ; do you want to buy ? "

" Well, that depends upon the price."

" We shall not disagree about that." The truth is, he
does not know what to ask, since the groom, up to this
time, has not had a chance to tell the dealer how much he
wants for himself. " Better see him out first," he adds.
" I should like you to mount him."

The horse is taken out and tried, the groom meanwhile
making his wants known. " What do you want for that
horse?" he asks, sotto voce. *' I want four hundred and
twenty-five dollars net," is the reply. " Ask five hundred
and come down to four seventy-five ; see ? "

74 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

This is what takes place nearly every day in a dealer's
yard. A customer tries to be clever with the dealer, and
meets more than his match. The groom has made more
out of his employer than the dealer has.

Presently up rides customer number two, the right sort.

*' Good morning, dealer. Look here ; I am looking for
a well-mannered hunter — something you can recommend.
I want him for a gentleman."

Out comes the bay again.

" Well, what about this one, dealer ? "

And the dealer proceeds to answer without exaggeration.
The bay is bred so-and-so ; has had three months' school-
ing ; has been ridden several times to hounds; pulls a bit
more than the dealer likes, but seems to be coming to his
hands nicely. With another month or so of schooling he
should make a very good hunter,

*• How much ? " asks customer number two.

" Four hundred and twenty-five."

The horse is tried, liked, and bought.

When would-be buyer number one learns from buyer
number two that he bought his horse for four hundred and
twenty-five, he protests. " Oh, confound that dealer ! He
tried to sell me that horse this morning for five hundred
dollars. I shall never patronise him again. Every horse-
dealer I ever had anything to do with always tried to get
the best of me."

This is one example of the average buyer, the average
dealer in horses, and the wrong and the right way to buy a
horse. Don't ask a dealer if his horse is sound and then
feel for unsoundness. Look him over carefully, if you like,

Buying a Hunter 75

and then, if you wish, ask the question. Do not ask
the age of a horse and then look into his mouth. Go the
other way about it, or keep away from any man whom
you would suspect of deceiving you. Go to a dealer who
has his reputation to make or keep, and go as straight
about the bargain as you would in buying a yard of cloth.

An honest dealer, because his point of view is imper-
sonal, knows better than one's friends what one wants, pro-
vided, that is, one tells him just how much of a horseman
one is. It may be humiliating, but it is the best and only
way. There is hardly a man in the business that will not
fit you out in this way with as much care as if you were
his own son. If, for any reason, he fails the first time, go
back and tell him the difficulty. Most dealers will take
an endless amount of pains with such a customer, changing
horses until he is suited. Go preferably, if you are a hunts-
man, to some dealer in a hunting county. Let him give
you a mount and ride with you to learn the degree of your
horsemanship. If you are not sufficiently advanced in
horsemanship to adapt yourself to all sorts and conditions
of horses, be sure to try the horse yourself. You may find
a thousand-dollar horse so uncomfortable for you that he
would give you no pleasure, while another one at half the
money would fit you perfectly.

If you must take some one with you, take some profes-
sional dealer who knows just what kind of horse you
require, agreeing beforehand to pay him a certain commis-
sion if you buy. If you are buying of a farmer, beware
lest he is ignorant in regard to soundness. He may tell
you his unsound horse is sound simply because he does not

76 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

know any better. A dealer, on the other hand, is not
likely to buy an unsound horse. The horse you buy from
him is, generally speaking, worth all the difference between
the farmer's and the dealer's price. There is hardly much
advantage in buying of a farmer unless you can give your
horse the necessary training yourself. This, indeed, is
much the better plan if you can afford time and have skill
and taste for the work. A man could hardly have a better
training for himself, even, than the personal education of a
hunter.

Here is another example of a bargain between a buyer
with a confirmed notion that allowances must be made for
whatever a dealer says — the buyer, strangely enough, who
is always "getting stuck" — and the dealer who can talk
horse, one of those fellows whose tongue is operated on
ball bearings and has been plentifully lubricated with
butter. If a fool is born every minute, these two drew
their first breath at the same tick of the clock.

" Can he jump ? " asks the buyer.

" Jump ! Well, you see that seven-bar stake and rider
fence ? Well, he jumped that from a standstill when he
was a weanling."

" Can he run ? "

" Run ! Well, I should say ! My stable-boy had him
down to the track the other day where there are a lot of
thoroughbreds in training, and they coaxed him into having
a turn. Well, sir, to make a long story short, he left the
bunch as if they were standing."

** Has he courage ? "

" Courage ! Why, bless you, I do believe you can jump

Buying a Hunter 77

him right over a locomotive engine. He would try a
church if you sent him at it."

"Is he sound ? "

"Well, now, I want to tell you I have been dealing in
horses for the last forty years, and, really, I never owned a
sounder horse in all my life."

The buyer here looks for splints and curbs, which is the
extent of his ability to judge soundness.

" That 's right," says the seller ; " look him all over care-
fully. Not a scratch or a pimple on him anywhere. If
you find one I will give him to you," — etc., without end.

All I have to say is that if a buyer is foolish enough to
patronise such men or to be caught by such chaff as this, it
serves him right. Buy your own horse. Go alone and
tell the truth. That the horse you buy to-day may go
lame to-morrow, or take cold on the wav home and die in
a week, is n't anybody's fault. The buyer took the same
chances with the same horse. Don't expect a green-silk
umbrella for fifty cents. There are a hundred and one
things likely to happen to a horse. Take your share of
hard luck when it comes your way as a true sportsman
should. In the buying of the best, the soundest, the most
perfect-mannered horse in the world, you gamble on how
he will turn out in your hands.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Men who
have learned a little about horses are invariably conceited.
What they know has been picked up by talking horse at
the club or reading some one's receipt for " How to Tell a
Good Horse." These are among the men who are always
getting stuck. Their bumps of conceit usually cost them

78 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

a good bit of money before they develope into real horse-
sense or knowledge. They remind one of the boy who,
when asked how he was getting on in arithmetic, replied :
"Oh, I am almost through studying it. I have finished
the * add-ups' ; I 'm now in the * take-froms ' ; and when I
learn to multiply I shall be all through with arithmetic."
Here is another example of a would-be clever buyer of a
hunter. This kind writes a letter :

New York City, April 7, 1901.
Mr. Horse-dealer,

Dear Sir : It occurs to me that I should like to inquire if you
have any good hunters on hand. I don't know that I want to buy,
but if I should I should want a horse fifteen-three hands, bay with
black legs and a star in the face. I do not object to one hind foot
being white. I like plenty of action, especially knee and hock action;
short back with a long stride ; high head-carriage without check, and
nice long pasterns. He must not be afraid of anything. If you
have such a horse I might like to have him, if you would take in
exchange one I bought last month of Blank. Please answer by
return mail, and greatly oblige

Yours truly,

Richardson Doe.

P.S. Please send photos of the horses you have for me to
choose from.

It is amusing to see one of these conceited chaps in a
dealer's stables, looking for a curb, picking up a foot, —
usually only one, on the nigh side, — glaring into the horse's
eyes to see if he is blind, appearing very wise after the
manner of doctors when they do not know what is the
matter with their patient, and asking the dealer: "Is he
sound?" Flattered by the dealer's "You can probably
judge better than I ; I can always tell by the way a man

Buying a Hunter 79

goes about a horse if he is a good judge," — he buys the
horse without further question. And how he squeals when
he finds he has paid five hundred dollars for a hundred-
dollar screw. He is deceived again, and the dealer gets
the credit for it.

I repeat, I have always noticed that when a man has the
courage to tell a dealer he knows nothing about horses,
and depends entirely upon what the dealer says, he seldom
has much fault to find with what he buys. I remember
once when a dealer lost the sale of a horse because a little-
knowledge man said he was too straight in the shoulders.
The same man bought the same horse a week after from
the same dealer, who had done nothing in the meantime
but dock the horse's tail and pull his mane !

Speaking of docking reminds me of a laughable horse
trade that took place near Passaic, New Jersey. A dealer
by the name of Mahoney came to town with a car-load of
horses, of which he sold one to a sewing-machine agent.
When the dealer arrived in Passaic with his next consign-
ment, the sewing-machine man came back to him declar-
ing that the horse was unsatisfactory, and received about
half of the money he had originally paid for him. A few
days later his partner bought a horse of the dealer. It was
the same horse, only docked. If a dealer is sharp, it is the
customer that makes him so.

I have had all things happen to my horses that horse-
flesh is heir to, but I have never felt that I was cheated
purposely by the seller, except once. The idea that dealers
go about the country buying unsound, worthless horses, to
cobble them up, dope the crazy ones, and whisky the lazy

8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ones, is the most absurd notion that ever entered the public
mind. Yet people have heard so much of this that they
really expect to be cheated, and, if a horse goes wrong in
a month, will say they only looked for as much. It is
strange what notions some people have. They buy a house
that burns down, hire a coachman who developes rheuma-
tism, a footman who gets a sore throat, a servant-girl who
gets married, a butler who may die the week after he
comes into the house. All this, they say, is providence.
But if any of the thousand and one things that are likely to
overtake a dumb beast happen within six weeks or two
months after he comes into their possession, it is not provi-
dence, but the dealer. They are " stuck again."

Tell the dealer just what you want of a horse, and how
much experience you have had in riding. Tell the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Tell him,
even, he may send ten or fifteen dollars to your groom and
add the same to your bill. You may think your groom is
too honest to accept the fee, but see that he has his tip, or
your horse, however good, may never suit, and there will
be no end of fault-finding, until you give up in despair and
tell the groom to buy the next one himself — which is
what he wanted you to do.

Neither should a man boast of his riding or driving to
his dealer. He may mislead him into selling him a horse-
man's horse when he ought to have an amateur's horse.
The buyer may find he cannot ride his new purchase : he
is a refuser, he pulls, is irritable, will not feed after his run
to hounds. Why ? Because his rider has no hands ; he
balances himself by holding hard on his mouth when he
jumps. The hunter gets to pulling: the rider gets his reins

Buying a Hunter 8i

mixed, and pulls on the curb instead of the snaffle. His
hunter returns after a run in a state of nervous prostration,
breaking out in a cold sweat : his rider does not know
that every time he landed he jabbed the spurs into him.
From want of horsemanship he took more out of his
mount in a single run than he should have done in four or
five runs of proper riding. The trouble was, he was " over-
horsed." The man who sold the horse, a thorough horse-
man, may have taken the same horse through a harder run
on the best of terms, with sheep twine for reins.

The buyer says he has been deceived ; on the contrary,
he has deceived the dealer, who sold him what the buyer
gave him to understand was wanted. A horse-dealer of
any standing is just as eager to suit as the buyer is to be
suited. No man in the world knows better than the dealer
that confidence and square dealing are his principal stock
in trade, — So the buyer goes to the dealer and says :

** You misrepresented that horse to me. You must take
him back."

** No," replies the dealer, — or he ought to, — " I cannot
furnish brains for the horse's mount. And since you put
it on the ground that I deceived you knowingly, I will not
take the horse back. It would be acknowledging that I
had deceived you."

In other words, again the buyer has gone the wrong way
about it. If he had gone about it in the right way, truth-
fully, ten to one the dealer would have fitted him out with
a horse of his size — something he could pull and maul ;
in short, some old stager that would plod through a hunt
as through a day's work at the plough.

On the other hand, a horse that will answer for one

8 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

hunting country may be nearly worthless in another. In
the Genesee Valley, for instance, where there is plenty of
steep hill work with many ravines as steep as a mansard
roof, a fifteen and a half to fifteen-three horse is quite tall
enough. For the level Meadowbrook country, where they
follow the drag, which is only another name for steeple-
chasing, the nearer the thoroughbred in size that can gallop
and fly the fences, the better. Mr. Ellis, the Master there,
says : '* Take away speed from drag-hunting and there is
little left worth going out for."

In selecting a hunter I should rate desirable characteris-
tics in the following order: (i) suitability; (2) pedigree;
(3) disposition; (4) manners; (5) education; (6) looks.

Some huntsmen may prefer to put more stress on looks.
No one appreciates good looks in a hunter better than the
writer, nor do I mean to say good looks are attained only
at the expense of utility. Education and manners may be
cultivated. Disposition may be improved. Pedigree and
suitability are fixed. But the greatest of these is suitability.

From another way of looking at it, buying horses is a
good deal like selecting a wife. To impress upon the
buyer the responsibility he takes upon himself and the risk
he runs in buying a horse, it might be well to have some
sort of marriage ceremony. The ceremony might be
performed by a Presbyterian, because, for one thing, the
buyer ought to endorse the good old doctrine of fore-
ordination.

The ceremony should at least contain the following
form : " I, Richardson Gibson Doe, being a man free-born,
of lawful age, and desirous of taking unto myself a partner

Buying a Hunter 83

for the chase, do hereby select the bay mare Thistle-
whipper for my partner in hunting the wild fox. I do
most solemnly promise and swear to take the said bay mare
Thistlewhipper for better or for worse, through thick and
thin, through sickness, accident, death, or the pink-eye.
I do hereby solemnly promise and swear that I will provide
the said bay mare Thistlewhipper with a good home,
feed, and care, and at all times and under all circumstances
treat her as I should wish her to treat me if I were a horse
and she were my owner. So help me John Rogers."

Here the buyer, in token of his sincerity, shall disengage
his right hand from the mare's forelock and kiss the curry-
comb or the brush, as he may elect. Then shall the buyer
face the seller and say: "Let me pay." And the seller
may say: " Let me offer you a glass of cider."

Then shall the buyer hand to his stud-groom or coachman
a gold ring, or the price of one, wherewith to ensure the
mare from all accidents and disorders, barring blind stag-
gers, until it is necessary that another should be bought.
Here endeth the ceremony, and the buyer may now go
forth and proclaim to all his friends what a great bargain
he hath secured in the bay mare Thistlewhipper.

t

VII

SEAT

"A chosen few
Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath
Their pleasing toils."

SOMERVILLE

I

VII

SEAT

RIDING BY GRIP AND BALANCE GOOD AND BAD FORM HOW

TO SIT A HORSE PROPERLY RIDING OVER

JUMPS BY BALANCE

|F the qualifications that go to make a good
rider, seat is of fundamental importance.
Hands, ease, grace, correct position, safety,
horsemanship — all depend upon seat. When
the seat is perfect, and only then, can these things be per-
fect too. A rider need not expect to distinguish himself
beyond his ability, good, bad, or indifferent, to sit his
horse.

The perfect seat is the one which gives a rider the best
hold in the saddle, with the least fatigue. There are two
styles of riding. One depends upon balance, and the other

upon grip of knees and thighs, or of calves, to maintain
equilibrium.

Englishmen as a rule ride by grip, Americans by balance.
The most graceful and finished riders are without question
those who ride by balance. Some writers contend that
the securest seat is a combination of grip and balance, but
I fail to see the force of the argument.

87

88 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Riding-school masters — who in America are mostly
Englishmen — teach the grip method, and it is owing to
them that people are falling into English ways of riding in
America, — especially in cities, — which is much to be
deplored. Grip, however slight, robs the figure of that
suppleness and elasticity of motion and grace of carriage
that are characteristic of riding by balance. I regret to say
that no one up to the present time has, to my knowledge,
come forward outright to champion riding by balance.
The tradition of riding by grip has probably been handed
down to Englishmen from earliest history, and is only
another of many customs that hang on long after they
ought to be discarded.

If there is any one thing about riding horseback that I
feel more positive about than another, it is that riding by
balance is the only correct way, the safest, the most secure,
and the most graceful way to sit a horse. This will shock
many of my English and not a few of my American
riding-school friends who look upon themselves as good
riders. But so far as sticking on a horse is concerned,
their ability is lessened, as I shall attempt to show, by the
very means which they believe gives them security.

First let me call attention to the fact that there resides
in every man a certain power or instinctive ability operat-
ing under what is sometimes called the first law of nature,
or the law of self-preservation. It acts usually indepen-
dently of the mind, and its processes are much keener and
quicker than merely mental processes. When a man rises
to walk, for instance, the act of rising is done with a more
or less conscious mental effort. Once on his feet, he

Seat 89

walks on without further thought. Something in him
takes his body in hand and keeps it upright and balanced
without mental exertion.

Now two thirds or rather more of the weight of a
man's body is above the hips. He is really a more or less
top-heavy animal. His base — that is, when he is walking
or standing, his feet — is comparatively small; it is, too,
smaller and farther below his centre of gravity when he is
upright than when he is seated in a chair or in the saddle.
When he walks his arms swing naturally at his side as an
assistance to the maintenance of equilibrium. If he at-
tempts to hold his hands against his sides — an action
analogous to holding his legs against the saddle — it
requires an effort of mind and destroys all ease and grace of
body. I hold that it is no more essential to sit a horse
by grip than it is to grip something with the hands when
walking. One can as well learn to sit a horse by balance
as to walk by balance.

The sooner in life this is learned, the better. All writers
advise one to begin young by riding bareback on a pony,
and this is quite right, but not because it teaches to hold
on by grip. The result is the very reverse : it teaches one
to ride by balance, and will, if it is not spoiled by riding-
school training later, produce a perfect seat. That Ameri-
cans as a rule have most graceful seats is due to their riding
by balance, in which they are mostly self-taught, beginning
as farm-lads riding work-horses to and from pasture bare-
backed.

Only a short time ago I was discussing this question with
a well-known rider of the Radnor Hunt, near Philadelphia.

90 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

In answer to my advice to ride more by balance, he re-
plied that his riding-school master had always told him
what he most lacked was grip. His experience was only
that of thousands who attempt to keep upright by grip,
coming home after a ride to lie awake half the night with
cramps and pains in their legs, the result of distinct and
laboured effort throughout the ride.

Compare riding, for a moment, with fencing. When one
accomplished swordsman meets another, this is what happens :
his mind directs him to place himself on guard before his
opponent; but from the instant foil-play begins, mind and
reason are a blank. The law of self-preservation takes en-
tire control of the body, directing every action. The man
who tries to fence or control his foil by dictates of mind is
altogether too slow in self-defence. Reason is useful and
necessary to teach position and proper form, but useless
in a bout for honours. No man can become an accom-
plished swordsman or boxer who does not give himself up
to this law in self-defence. For the same reason, no one, I
believe, can ever become a thoroughly accomplished rider
who does not abandon all attempt to stick on by conscious
and deliberate grip.

The argument for the security of the seat by grip is
weakened by the fact that thousands of men all over the
United States are daily riding by balance. The self-taught
ranchmen and cow-boys on the Western plains, the Ameri-
can Indians, and hundreds of the best amateur riders all
over the country ride by balance.

I remember once complimenting a most finished rider
on his seat. " Why, certainly I ride by balance," he re-

Seat 9 1

marked, as if no other way had ever occurred to him.
** Would you have a person ride with one hand hanging on
to the pommel of the saddle ? Gripping with both legs
against the tiaps of the saddle amounts to the same thing."

Riding by however slight a grip has neither theory nor
practical results to recommend it ; and it is passing strange
that hardly a riding-school teacher and no writer that I
have ever found sees the matter in this light. Whyte-
Melville, in his " Riding Recollections," advocates a com-
bination of grip and balance. To depend upon balance,
he says, " is to come home with a dirty coat ; to cling wholly
to grip is to court as much fatigue in a day as should serve
for a week." On another page, however, he spoils his argu-
ment by saying, apropos of grace, that " the loose and
easy seat that serves to sway carelessly with every motion,
yet can tighten itself by instinct to the compression of a
vice, — the prettiest riders, as they say in Ireland, — are prob-
ably the ones whom a kicker or a bush-jumper would find
most difficult to dislodge."

It is a pity to see the naturally secure and graceful seat
of a self-taught American ruined by his going to riding-
school. A person may be longer learning to sit a horse by
balance than to hold on by grip, but if he gives himself up
to riding by balance, which is only another way of saying
gives his body up to the care of the law of self-preservation,
he has eventually every advantage in point of security or
safety of seat over the man who is holding on by conscious
grip. When a person rides by balance, this law of self-
preservation, many times quicker than thought, looks after
him just as it does when he is on his feet and walking.

92 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

The instant he is the least out of balance, a muscle con-
tracts here or lengthens there, independently of mental
effort, to put his body back on its centre. See two men
riding at a fence, one by balance, one by grip. At the
last instant the horse suddenly refuses. What happens }
The law of self-preservation keeps the one man in his seat,
while the other, riding by an effort of the mind, instantly
his grip is loosened, goes to grass.

Should we never grip a horse with our legs? Yes, cer-
tainly— if the law of self-preservation dictates it. The
trouble is, we are afraid in the beginning to trust ourselves
to this law.

My advice to a beginner is, if he is a boy, to begin
riding bareback on a pony. If a man, he had better have
the aid of a pair of stirrups and begin practising by riding
at a walk, with his feet as free of the irons as possible.
Let him keep at this until he can trust himself bareback
on a quiet horse, and then, still at bareback, work away until
he can sit a horse at a trot, a canter, and at last jumping
over low obstacles. If he does enough of this he will come
out a finished rider. It may seem slow and laborious, but
it is the shortest cut to the attainment of a perfect seat.
If a person is a bit rusty at riding, nothing is better for
him than riding bareback for an hour, or, if this is not
convenient, riding to covert, say, with the feet out of, or
independently of, the stirrup-irons.

While a self-taught rider then invariably rides by balance
and is thus master of the one qualification that can make
him perfect in all respects, he may yet have acquired bad
form. For instance, he may ride with his elbows as high

O l-

O lU

1

Seat 93

as his shoulders and present the ridiculous appearance of
working his arms as if he were a flying-machine or a pin-
ioned duck going through the motions of flight. Again,
he may thrust his foot too far forward, as if bracing himself
against the rush of the wind, or too far back, as if he were
trying vainly to get upon his knees. He may slouch in
the body too far forward, as if he were weak in the back,
or he may sit so straight and stiff as to suggest his being
inspired with the idea that he is some great general about
to be cast in bronze for a public park. By riding with too
long stirrup-irons he may resemble a scarecrow in a corn-field,
or by having them needlessly short suggest a monkey riding
on a circus horse. Correct form is that which gives the figure
the greatest ease and grace of carriage at the same time with
the securest seat and least fatigue. Ease, graceful carriage,
absence of fatigue, come from unconsciousness. The com-
bination must be natural. Bad form with unconsciousness
is better than a position which is forced or unnatural.*

The easiest and most graceful position for the arms is
with the elbows hanging naturally against the sides, the
upper arm and the forearm at right angles to each other.
The hands should nearly meet in front of the body just above
the lap, and just high enough to clear the pommel of the
saddle, held naturally with thumbs uppermost, and far
enough in front of the body to permit free action of the
wrists in taking and giving to the natural backward and
forward oscillation of the bit when the horse is in motion.

The length of stirrup-leathers is a question much dis-
cussed. The straight leg — the forked or military seat —

* See page 92.

94 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

may be and probably is best for the most efficient hand-
ling of a sabre, but no such position is necessary in riding
across country. The requirements in the hunting-field are
of another sort. For taking a fence the length of the
stirrup-leathers should enable a rider standing in his stirrups
just to clear the pommel easily with his crotch, — which
may be necessary when the horse is in the act of jumping,
— and to sit well back in his saddle as the horse makes
the descent. The shifting of the centre of gravity of the
rider's body, forward during the upward spring, and well
back on the descent, cannot be accomplished with long
stirrup-leathers. The military seat, with long stirrup-
leathers, has no place in the hunting-field, where there is
jumping to be done. We shall notice this more fully
when we speak of riding by balance over fences.

The best position of the legs, as of the arms, is that
which is most natural and at the same time gives the
stirrup-leathers length in which to alter a rider's position
forward and backward in negotiating a jump. Shorter
stirrup-leathers than this are useless, besides impairing the
symmetry and ease of the rider. The best form for legs
in cross-country riding is with the foot turned neither in
nor out more than is perfectly natural, and the leg from
the instep to the knee perpendicular to the ground. With
the stirrup-leather of proper length, the hollow of the legs
between knee and calf will then fit the horse's body at
the fullest part. This position gives the rider's body the
greatest amount of sitting surface, erect and well back on
the saddle, which for hunting should be longer in the seat
than for ordinary riding. (See illustration, page 92.)

Seat 95

I am persuaded that such a position, such form for arms,
legs, and seat, together with entire dependence on balance,
constitutes a way of riding at once the most natural and
graceful and the most secure. I never yet have seen the
man who, riding at all by grip, could sit down well into
his saddle when his horse was at a canter. In this respect
English riders are something shocking. At every stride
of the horse they go clear of their saddles with from one
to four inches of daylight between their saddles and them-
selves. Except when a horse makes some extraordinary
movement, a man who rides by balance never shows the
least bit of daylight between himself and the leather. The
grip man depends so much upon the pressure of his legs
and puts so much of his weight upon his stirrups that the
least jar elevates him — bump, bump, bump.

There are doubtless many riders in England, many
riding-school-taught riders in America and military-taught
hunting men in other places, who are half or more than
half converted to the idea of riding by balance, who often
find themselves riding in this way despite all discipline to
the contrary. As to sitting a horse by balance when jump-
ing a fence, however, they shy at this or refuse to try it
altogether.

In the chapter on the conformation of the hunter, on
the subject of shoulders, we had our say about centres of
gravity and the necessity that the horse should be so built
that in taking a fence the rider's centre of gravity should
come as nearly as possible over that of the horse. With a
horse so built and a rider so placed, riding by balance over
a jump is not only a possible but, in my opinion, the only

96 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

proper way to ride. It is the only natural way for both
horse and rider. For the horse, the difference in taking
over a fence a rider who keeps his equilibrium by balance
and one who holds on by grip is so much in favour of
balance that the grip theory is completely demolished.

At page 96 we have an illustration of a rider who,
riding by balance, is leaning well forward while his mount
makes the ascent. A line drawn from the top of the
rider's head to his horse's heels as they leave the ground
follows the centre of gravity ; the equilibrium of the rider
is maintained with ease ; also the weight on the horse's
back is in a position to be lifted with the least possible
expenditure of strength.

At the same page is shown a rider taking a fence with his
body held in position by a grip of the legs. With him the
centre of gravity is far back of that of the horse ; and
whereas the balance rider is lifted with the least possible
exertion, the grip rider is, so to speak, elevated at arm's-
length. In the one case the rider, sitting by balance and
entirely independent of the reins, is in the only position
where he can give to his mount the freedom of head which
is absolutely essential to perfect performance. In the other
case the rider, sitting by grip and, thanks to his rigid posi-
tion, thrown forcibly backward as the horse springs, must
depend on the reins for his support.

Can any one imagine a more nearly perfect form, theo-
retically and practically, for man and beast, than the bal-
anced seat over a jump, or one more uncomfortable for the
man or more difficult for the horse under his rider's weight
than the rigid seat ? To those who think riding by balance

Seat 97

well enough on the level but impracticable for fencing, let
me say it is more essential at this point than anywhere else.

Let us hurry our two riders on over a fence and see
them safely landed on the other side. Directly over the
fence both riders assume, for an instant, the same position.
This instant is the only one, however, between leaving the
ground and landing again, where the rider by grip is riding
his horse. Before that and after that, as we shall presently
show, he is not riding but hanging on. As they begin the
decline the man riding by balance gradually leans back
until his centre of gravity pulls downward in a line drawn
from his head through his body and the horse's fore legs.
Can a better position be imagined for the comfort of the
rider or for his safety ? Can any one place the weight of
the rider in a position to be lowered to the ground with
less exertion to the horse ? What of our grip rider, whose
body still remains in the same rigid, unyielding position ?
Can any one suggest anything he could do to make his posi-
tion more uncomfortable for himself or his mount ? Look
at page 98 and see our grip rider descending with his
horse's head still in a vice. Could he place himself with
hands and seat in better form to make his horse turn a
somersault on landing?

In the former case the horse alights and goes forward in
the same smooth stride that he had on the level. In the
latter, being thrown out of balance by the rider sitting out
of balance, he has to put forth as much muscular exertion
to land his rider as he had to lift him. It is not too much
to estimate that the one horse can take a hundred and
seventy-five pounds over a four-foot-six fence with less

98 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

exertion than the other would need to carry over a hun-
dred and twenty-five pounds.

And whatever the difference may be in theory, it is even
greater in practice. When we consider that by balance
the horse himself must negotiate a fence, and how little a
thing upsets even a man on his feet, the trial it must be to
a horse to jump with a weight on his back all out of bal-
ance from start to finish is apparent. The wonder is that
one does not see half a dozen falls in the hunting-field
where there is but one. Drag huntsmen will hardly
appreciate this discourse on jumping, for they take their
fences as they take their ditches, flying. But to men in
timber countries it must be apparent, we repeat, that the
only one way to ride a horse and do it properly is by
balance.

The crying need in riding-schools is some teaching of
sitting a horse naturally. " Buffalo Bill's " exhibition in Eng-
land was a revelation as far as seat was concerned. There
is no country in the world where they do so much horse-
back riding as in England, but nowhere can you find such
bad seats. If you wish to see how not to ride, and a fine
example of grip riding, pay a visit to Hyde Park. It is
bump and co-chunk, with from four to six inches of day-
light between their saddles and nineteen riders out of
twenty, the horses cantering at that. Grip does it.

CJ

VIII
HANDS

" Who tugged at his horse and held on to his head
With hands like a vice as if loaded with lead.
I saw at one glance that he was not the kind
To blend with the horse both in body and mind."

POEMS IN PINK

VIII

HANDS

pullers: how they are made — proper position of hands —
how to hold the reins hands when jumping

lY good " hands " is meant that sensitiveness
of touch in the manipulation of the reins
which pulls not an ounce more than is actu-
ally needful. It is an axiom of the hunting-
field that " Pulling hands make pulling horses," or " A
dull hand makes a dull mouth."

" I never pull at my horse's mouth," says a friend of
mine, " but all my horses are pullers. I don't under-
stand it."

The trouble with my friend is that he is dull of touch.
When he shakes hands with you he nearly crushes your
bones, yet he is entirely unconscious of doing so. I have
often remonstrated with him, but, I fear, to no purpose.
Ladies shun him rather than endure the ordeal of a grip
of his unfeeling paw.

Touch is a question as much for horsemen as for
pianists, and almost as difficult to attain in perfection
by one as by the other. In horsemanship we can
learn from the lady rider a most valuable lesson. Her

I02 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

hand is acknowledged everywhere among hunting men as
being Hghter and more sensitive of touch than a man's.
Sensitiveness of touch is a gift, yet probably can be culti-
vated and improved to some extent. More profit is to be
derived from giving our attention to the causes — bad hands
and pulling horses, which invariably "hunt in couples" —
to which its lack is due.

The most fruitful source of bad hands is an incorrect
position in holding the reins. It is a point susceptible of
the greatest improvement. The proper position of the
arms and hands is illustrated at page 92 ; the wrong way
at page 104. In the right way notice that the arm from
the shoulder to the elbow is perpendicular, the forearm at
right angles to the upper, and that the hands are well in the
lap of the rider, so that there is no weight whatever on
the reins. The wrist is pliable to every step or stride of
the mount. The correct position has been attained. A
glance at page 1 04, which illustrates the wrong way of hold-
ing the reins, will show that with the elbows forward and
the forearm in line with the reins or parallel to the direc-
tion in which the horse is moving, the weight of the hands
and arms rests against the horse's mouth. This weight,
moreover, is increased in proportion as the elbow is held
forward of the perpendicular. In holding the reins with
the arms extended, one causes all the give and take of the
reins to come from the shoulder. The whole arm instead
of the wrist must be moved, or, as is usually the case, re-
main rigid. This position of the hands is a constant dead
weight against the horse's mouth. The rider is entirely
unconscious of pulling the horse's mouth. He is not pull-

Hands 103

ing in the sense that he is making a distinct muscular
effort to do so. But he invariably acquires the habit, when
reaching his hands well forward, of resting the weight of
his hands and arms on the horse's mouth. This irritates
the horse, who either refuses to go up to his bit or begins
to pull. A horse pulls, as does the rider, from one of two
causes : either because his mouth has been so deadened or
calloused as to be no longer sensitive, or because he is being
pulled. The former comes from improper bitting and
breaking ; the latter from the fact that beyond a certain
pressure the harder he pulls the less pain he feels, the circu-
lation being cut off and the nerves deadened. Thus it
comes about that pulling hands make pulling horses.

This question of hands is much better understood in
England than in America. The English are as superior to
the Americans in hands as the Americans are superior to
the English in seat. In England you will everywhere see
good hands — farm-lads, butchers' boys, cabmen. Good
hands in England are the rule, while with us they are
quite the exception. The great majority of horses in
America have had their mouths injured or spoiled altogether
by heavy, unyielding hands.

The American and the English styles of holding the
reins are illustrated at page 104. The American style is the
result of copying the jockeys in driving trotting horses, a
style of hands which may be well enough for track work
but is manifestly wrong for ordinary riding or driving.
The same sort of thing is noticeable in American har-
nesses. Trotting horsemen use an overdraw-check in
order to extend their horses' noses, for the purpose of giv-

I04 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ing them the greatest freedom in breathing by making a
straighter air-passage from the nostrils to the lungs. This
style of harness may enable a horse to do a mile in several
seconds less time than he could accomplish it in if the har-
ness had an ordinary bearing-rein, or even no check at all,
and, so far as speed is concerned, the overdraw has its
legitimate use. It has, however, like the jockey's style of
holding the reins, become almost universal. You can
hardly find in a harness-shop in America a breast-collar
harness that has not the overdraw-check on the bridle.
It is seen everywhere, among farmers and among livery-
men, and from it Americans have copied a style of holding
the reins that results in the worst possible position of the
hands for ordinary riding and driving ; and the very best
that could be adopted for making pullers. There is no
room for doubt in the matter — the one great drawback
to American horsemanship is bad hands ; the nation is in
this respect just about as bad as it could be made : yet it is
the one thing needed to make Americans the most finished
riders in the world.

And good as the English riders and drivers are in hands,
the Irish horsemen take the prize from them. The Irish
are simply perfection. They ride with a light Pelham bit,
which is simply a curb-bit without a snaffle. It is a very
severe bit, but with their masterly hands they leave it severely
alone. By this same token I should think it an excellent
thing for any one who wished to cultivate good hands to
practise riding with curb-lines. The consciousness of
the bit's being so severe would make one very careful how
he took hold of it. A bit like this in a tender mouth

I. Hands in driving, correct.

3. Shortening girths while mounted.

2. Incorrect.

4. Twisting stirrup-leathers.

Hands 105

would soon teach a man to let it alone. But of course,
before he should attempt it, his seat should be so perfect as
to be independent of the reins for support under all cir-
cumstances. *' Handle your reins," says one authority,
"as if they were silk threads and liable to break." This
is good advice, but it cannot very well be put into practice
unless the hands are in their proper position, as illustrated
at page 114, and if the seat is not perfect. If one
wishes to demonstrate how much of a dead weight there is
against a horse's mouth when the rider's elbows are ex-
tended and the forearm is straight, let him attach a weight
to a pair of reins and take hold of them with hands ex-
tended, American style ; let him keep adding to the weight
until the weight of his hands and arms is balanced, then
take the reins in his one hand as illustrated by the Eng-
lish style, and note the difference.

It is very discouraging sometimes to undertake to make
over a puller. When you begin to think you are making
progress, something upsets your work and he gives you
another day of it in spite of all that you can do. From a
rusher over his fences and a puller between them, good
Lord deliver us ! Such a horse not only tires his rider but
exhausts himself to no purpose. We have shown in the
chapter on horsemanship how essential it is to be on good
terms with one's horse, but no one can possibly accomplish
this when there is a fight going on all the time between
himself and his mount.

A horse pulls from two causes — dulness of feeling, or to
ease pain. In the first case the chances of recovery are
generally hopeless. When, however, the pulling begins

io6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

after you have been riding a way and increases as you go
on, you may know it is to relieve pain, and by that same
sign that the fault is with yourself. In the first case there
is little you can do except to drop, the bit well down in a
new place and make the best you can of the situation. In
the latter case, as the fault is principally with your riding,
it is simply a question of cultivating your hands. If it is a
congenital want of sensitiveness of touch, I do not know of
any help. If it comes, as it usually does, from a faulty
position of the hands, the remedy is with yourself.

The habit of pulling, in a great many cases, comes from
a bad or improper seat when negotiating a jump. I have
already called attention to this point in the chapter on
"Seat." The reason a horse gets to pulling, or rushing
his fences, — except in cases of funk on the part of horse
or rider, — is that when a man sits rigid and is obliged
to catch at the bridle-reins for support he punishes the
horse's mouth so severely that the moment his feet touch
the ground, away he rushes as if he had had as severe a jab
with the spurs as he actually has had in the mouth. When
a horse has been ridden over a few fences in this style, he
associates that awful jab in the mouth with the act of
jumping. He knows as he approaches a fence that there
will be a pull at his head enough to extract a tooth, and
he naturally rushes to get over the agony as quickly as pos-
sible or refuses the jump altogether. Nor is this all.
When he gets within eight or ten strides of his fence he
goes at it with two or three times the amount of force
required to clear the obstacle, all of which is only so much
more energy consumed to no purpose. So matters go on

Hands 107

from bad to worse until the horse becomes a confirmed
puller.

I repeat, if you cannot sit a horse over timber without
catching hold of his mouth to support your body, you can
assure yourself that you are not qualified to ride a good
horse across country to hounds, and that the fault is with
your seat more than with your hands. I may be pardoned
for repeating again that the most important of all things in
cross-country riding is to give your horse perfect freedom
and liberty of his head when negotiating a fence, especially
timber. If you have so ridden him as in no way to
hamper his movements, except so far as your weight is
concerned, and he makes a mistake, it is not your fault.
And do not deceive yourself: a horse knows enough to

place the blame where it belongs. Mr. , one of the

best English authorities, says that nine falls out of ten in
the hunting-field are the fault of the rider, and I think he
is not far astray in his reckoning. A friend of mine tells
me : " You might say, what would be perfectly true, that
nine men out of ten would fall off if deprived of their
reins."

It is said of the great Atherton Smith that when he
came to a very bad jump, rather than have any question of
whose fault it was, his or his horse's, if they went to grass,
he would throw the reins down on the horse's neck and
say: "Now, then, look out for yourself!" That is the
principle on which one should strive to make every jump.

I confess it is much easier to tell how all these things
ought to be done than it is to do them. Perfect form in
all respects in riding to hounds is rarely seen in one man^

io8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

and I am conscious of not being an exception to the rule.
One thing, however, is certain : if we know how it ought
to be done, we can forever keep trying, for one never is too
old to learn.

I fancy some of my readers by this time are asking if I
mean to say that a horse ridden with hands in the proper
position will never pull. He may, of course; but you at
least know that so far as in you lies it is not your fault.
He may pull for ambition's sake, or desire to go through
timber faster than is safe, or faster over soft ground than
you, husbanding his staying powers, care to have him.
Perhaps he is inclined to be a little hot at his fences
because he is more than half a funker. Then take him by
the head as sharply as may be necessary, but the instant he
answers your pull, let up. Never keep a dead pull against
a horse's mouth. It is better to shift the bit from side to
side. If you keep on pulling long enough you will deaden
sensation and develope a real, not a temporary, puller.
After all, how is a horse to associate slackening his pace
with the slackening of your pull if you pull all the time ?
No horse is made a puller by being taken up short the
instant he begins to take liberties. The steady dead pull
on the flat, the jab in his mouth at his jump, are what do
the mischief.

I cannot agree with the notion prevalent among
hunting men that hands are a gift, which, if a person is not
born with it, he can never attain, however hard he may try.
I grant this if it is a mere question of sensitiveness of touch,
but not if it comes, as I believe it generally does come,
from a faulty position of the hands. In contending this

Hands 109

point I may be pardoned for again making a personal
allusion.

When I began riding to hounds, with no qualifications
whatever except seat, — which I had acquired riding farm-
horses, colts, and an Indian pony bareback when I was quite
young, — I soon discovered that every horse I rode to
hounds took to pulling. I was indebted to Mr. Thomas
Hitchcock, Jr., for my first lesson in holding the reins,
which, needless to say, had been — in the beginning — after
the usual American style. This was the sportsmanlike way
in which he went about it. Instead of taking me to
account personally, he read a lecture to one of his grooms
one day in my presence on the shocking bad hands he had
— which were, as a matter of fact, an exact reproduction of
my own style of holding the reins. Mr. Hitchcock next
showed him how to hold them properly, and gave the
reasons. It was a lecture from the shoulder, and I remem-
ber feeling rather sorry for the groom, until I remarked
that he was taking it all in with something of a knowing
smile on his face. That Mr. Hitchcock was never heard
to correct a man in the presence of other people, and that
the groom in question had been with him several years,
came to my knowledge later; but the lesson had the desired
effect. It was my first lesson, and, as I look back upon it,
I think the most important lesson I have ever had. I men-
tion it to show that I haye reason to know whereof I speak
in comparing English and American styles of holding the
reins.

A year or so later a very practical demonstration of hands
was given to me when I learned to drive four and tandem.

iio Cross Country with Horse and Hound

I had hastily bought a very wonderful "goer," which was
driven to a railway-station for my inspection while the
train stopped. Upon the completion of the purchase I sent
my man for him, and he came into my yard, after his drive
of fourteen miles, with the lines wound about his hands,
and declaring he had pulled himself and the wagon every
step of the way from Pearl Creek, that the traces had not
been taut once, and that the ''britchen" was tight nearly
all the way. I had bought the horse for a tandem leader,
but he was, as the groom said, an awful puller. Now it
so happened that the order to the stables had been
confused and the puller put in the lead. We started.
Imagine our surprise when, instead of developing his usual
pulling qualities as the distance increased, our puller-leader
quit them altogether, and that before the end of the first
drive. We kept him at it for a few weeks, and he never
pulled after that in any harness. He proved to be the
most perfect horse in the lead I ever drove. Since this
episode the first thing I do with pullers or heavy-mouthed
horses is to put them through this tandem school, and it
has never failed to benefit them greatly and in most cases to
produce a virtual cure. Many a horse that pulls when at
the wheel will go beautifully in the lead. I do not hesi-
tate to say there is nothing better for a heavy-mouthed
horse than to be put in the lead tandem, and nothing better
for a man with heavy hands than to practise tandem-
driving.

There is, further, in all this an important lesson ; namely,
that in breaking colts to drive we should use long reins.
Length of rein in riding certainly adds materially to the

Hands

III

ease of handling the bit, though I should not go so far as
to say, as many do, that ladies, by merely sitting farther back
on their horses, and having correspondingly longer reins than
men, owe to this alone the wonderful superiority of their
hands over men's. We may discuss this point further
under the chapter devoted to " The Lady Rider."

In general, riding with loose or slack reins is not only
bad form but is bad in theory and in practice. The reins
should be so held as always to maintain a slight touch of
the bit — no more if you can help it, and never any less.
If a person is sensitive enough of touch and will allow his
wrists to give and take to the oscillation of the horse's
head motion, he will be able to keep on the bit that most
desirable, even, steady pressure that best suits a horse and
gives to the rider the invaluable distinction of possessing
good hands. An excuse may be granted for riding a hard-
mouthed horse with tight reins, but there is no excuse
whatever for riding any horse with a slack rein. Slack-
rein riding gets a horse into slovenly ways of going. By a
continual touch upon the bit, however, a horse may be
guided to the right or left by an almost imperceptible
touch of the reins.

Hands are never a less important point than they are in
jumping. Turn a horse loose in a runway and observe how
he handles his head in taking a jump. First he slackens his
pace for the last stride or two, as do deer and cattle and
dogs before they spring. Then he throws his head up
instinctively with the lifting of his fore legs, higher than it
is naturally carried, and after the obstacle is cleared, or
while he is clearing it, brings his head down again and then

112 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

up as his fore feet land. These motions of the head and
neck must assist wonderfully in making the jumps, for they
show, for one thing, that the horse uses this throw of the
head and neck to assist him in preserving his balance. The
necessity of giving a horse his head when he is jumping is
obvious, and to be able to do this requires two things :
first, a perfect seat, and second, a rider that sits his horse
by balance. If the rider cannot take a fence with his
horse without steadying the weight of his body against the
horse's mouth, he may know by this sign that he comes
short of the requirements.

As a horse, when brought to his jump in a deliberate way,
begins to lift his fore legs from the ground, all the rider
has to do is to lean well forward and drop his hands until
the reins are slack,* then lean back on the decline of the
jump and take his horse well in hand as he strides away on
the level. The great trouble with many of us is that we
cannot let the reins alone, having the absurd idea that in
some way we must assist our mount to rise or to land. The
practice of catching hold of a horse's head by a pull on the
reins as he begins to rise at a jump, with the idea of lifting
him, is one of the most absurd notions that ever entered the
mind of a cross-country rider. It is a practice that is alto-
gether too common. Whyte-Melville, to quote again his
valuable work "Riding Recollections," tells of a celebrated
Yorkshireman who used to say : " Every horse is a hunter
if you don't throw him down [at his jumps] with the bridle."

I do not mean to say that every one who rides by balance
can ride a horse through a stiff run in a rough timber

* See page 96.

Hands 113

country and never need the friendly aid of a pull on the
reins or a grip with the legs to assist him in keeping his
balance. He will need them, certainly, but only as the law
of self-preservation directs. There are a great many ifs in
the way of attaining perfection in cross-country riding, be-
cause the requirements of horse and rider are so various.
Perfection is rarely found in either man or beast. We
find horses that will stop if you slacken the reins as they are
about to spring: they have so long been ridden over fences
with the rider's weight on their mouths that when they
are given their heads they think something has happened.
Long custom has taught them to expect it, and if it does
not come it is as likely as not to throw them out of gear,
and the rider out of the saddle at the same time. What
then .? Why, ride the horse as he wants to be ridden.
That is horsemanship.

The standard of excellence for horse and rider is so
high, and, as I say, the requirements are so numerous, that
no matter how great our experience has been, there will
always be something to strive for, something to learn. This
is the great charm of hunting ; it is a science within a
science. If it were to be mastered quickly or easily the
zest for it would not have persisted all these years. It is
like billiards, or fencing : you never do so well at either
but that you know you might have done better.

Let not the novice be discouraged, however; the best
that the best can do is to set before himself a standard of
perfection, and work and delve and strive to attain it. The
game is pursued with increasing interest only by the men
who strive in this persistent way to master it.

114 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

As to holding the reins in the hand or hands, there are
numerous ways. Two of these ways, at least, are good, and
both have strong advocates. The proper way of holding
single and double reins is shown on the facing page. The
way to carry the crop, and the way of changing reins from
two hands to one are also shown. In handling the four
reins in one hand the curb-reins are in the middle, the off or
right-hand rein under the forefinger, the nigh or left-hand
rein under the little finger. They are thus easily sorted,
shortened, or lengthened.

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IX
JUMPING FENCES, DITCHES, AND WATER

** But where was the gemman in pink

Who swore at his tail we should look ?
Not in the next parish, I think.
For he never got over the brook."

HUNTING SONG

IX

JUMPING FENCES, DITCHES, AND WATER

THE RIDER HIS MANAGEMENT OF HIS HORSE SPEED AT

TIMBER AND WATER

E have taken note of the schooling of the
horse in going over fences ; we must now
pay our attention to the rider, and to
the ways in which, by proper management,
he can help his mount.

To begin with, a horse should be brought to his fences
well in hand, with hocks well under him ; for nothing is
more certain than that the shorter the horse's stride when
nearing the fence, the more power he can make use of in
the spring. It is self-evident that if your horse is going at
a fence full speed in an extended gallop, he will not have
his hind legs under him long enough to use the contract
force of his muscles to their greatest advantage ; his momen-
tum will be too great. (See page ii8.)

"Fast at water, slow at timber," is the rule; but I
believe more horses go into than over water by too much
speed. Besides, a horse at full stride will only occasion-
ally reach the take-off bank just at the right spot. My
experience is that the injunction to be fast at water needs

117

ii8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

qualifying. That more impetus is required to make a
broad than a high jump, it is reasonable to suppose ; but a
too long or a too fast start is as apt to defeat one's ends as
going too slow is. If a horse has speed and impetus enough
to carry him over say twenty feet of water, as no doubt he
has when racing at it full speed, the trouble may be, never-
theless, that although he has only to lift his feet and let
the momentum do the rest, he feels that his muscular force
has been spent in running. He has not enough left, or
cannot collect what he has forcibly enough, and so refuses
or drops aimlessly into the middle of the stream. If, on
the contrary, he had but taken a shorter stride, he might
have cleared it. Any one who has practised broad jump-
ing will know exactly what I mean by this particular diffi-
culty. There is such a thing as going back too far and
coming at the water too fast when one could have done
quite as well perhaps from a standstill. There must always
be a reserve force in your horse for the spring. When a
horse is brought up to within three or four strides of the
obstacle, well in hand, he can better judge his distance,
whether over a fence or across a bit of water.

There is also at least one exception to the rule that one
should go slow at timber ; when, namely, there is a ditch
on the opposite side.

In " Forty-five Years of Sport" James Henry Corballis
says : " A horse can jump bigger and better when ridden at
a moderate pace. I have trained many of my horses," he
continues, " to jump so big from a stand that they couid
accomplish fences which were impossible to fly ; and in a
close, cramped country such training is most invaluable.

■''^C'^r^f^M/..'.^. .

Fast at timber, too extended.

Slow at tiniher, hocks well under

Jumping Fences, Ditches, and Water 119

The late Mr. Leonard Morrogh, a well-known Master of
the ' Ward,' trained most of his horses to jump the most
ugly and impossible-looking fences from a stand, and thus
even at the end of a long run his horses were, compara-
tively speaking, fresh. I took a hint from Mr. Morrogh's
system, and in like manner trained my own horses, and pro-
duced many a slow-jumping * wonder,' and in consequence
saw the end of many a twenty-iive-mile run."

Nearly any horse, if he is given time to collect himself
and is not distracted by whip and spur, will, if properly
trained, know how best to take off and land safely. It is
astonishing how easily a horse will negotiate a most diffi-
cult jump if there is nothing to interfere with the free use
of his legs, head, or neck, and if the weight on his back is
properly adjusted.

It is equally surprising what a little thing upsets him
when he is deprived of any part of this freedom. If you
doubt this, try a few jumps yourself naturally, and then
unnaturally hampered in some way. You will find that
the least deviation from the natural way is a very great
handicap to your making either a high or a broad jump
successfully.

X

SPURS

*■'■ One spur in the head is worth a dozen in the heel."

** Pompous encumbrance! A magnificence
Useless, vexatious!"

SOMERVILLE

X

SPURS

THEIR USE AND ABUSE RELICS OF BARBARISM

'NE spur in the head of either rider or mount
is worth a dozen in the heels when chasing
the fox. I confess I have a decided preju-
dice against the use of spurs, except as an or-
nament to a well-fitting boot. They have, I believe, done
ten times as much harm as good. They are used a hun-
dred times uselessly to once of real necessity.

As a matter of fact it will be readily understood to fol-
low from the system of training and schooling herein
advised that the spur is a useless instrument. My idea, as
I explained in the chapter on Schooling Hunters, is that
nothing whatever should be done to flurry, distract, or
annoy a horse in the act of jumping, much less to injure
him, because he thus associates injury or annoyance with his
jumps, and dreads them or refuses altogether. The more
you spur or whip, the more you will have to. The prin-
ciple is wrong and thoroughly inconsistent with the proper
education of a hunter. The spur or the whip is a stimu-
lant, and, like liquor, the more it is indulged in, the more

the need of it is felt. A horse can be driven through a run

123

124 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

and made to jump with wicked rowels piercing his flanks,
there is no doubt ; but this is not horsemanship : it is tor-
ture. We should abhor the thought of thumb-screws or
the lash to force a man to any dreaded task, but we do not
hesitate, some of us, to rowel the sides of a horse until he is
in a state bordering on frenzy. He jumps as a man would
jump from a third-storey window with a fire behind him.
Do we never stop to think of the state of mind a horse must
be in who fears to jump a fence and hesitates until the
terror of punishment overbalances even the dread he feels
for the jump ? That his fear — in your mind — is ground-
less does not lessen the terror in his own mind. Spurring
or whipping would not lessen a child's fear of " the dark."
Confidence learned by degrees, however, may. What horses
need, too, is confidence, not spurs. What we need ourselves
is confidence in ourselves, not stimulants. Confidence of
horse and rider in themselves and in each other — any-
thing you can do to promote this will make both parties to
the partnership more proficient in cross-country work.
Anything you do to your horse, and anything your horse -
does to you, whatever it may be, in whatever form it may
be done, that tends to destroy this confidence, that much is
being done toward defeating the end in view. At the har-
row or in harness you may use a horse for the sole end in
view, as you would a machine; but hunting, as I have said,
is a partnership aflfair. The more intimate the association
between rider and horse, the better must be the results.

No one can estimate the difference between riding a
horse to hounds whose heart is in the game and whose spur is
therefore in his own head, and one who goes through the mo-

Spurs 125

tions like a slave, and has to be rowelled over the fences and
quilted between them. That some men regard their horses
as nothing more than machines on which to " get there "
is apparent to any casual observer. The abuse of the spur
in the hunting-field has left a bloody trail over the other-
wise clean record of many a sportsman. I believe that
spurs are wholly unnecessary to a hunter if they are never
used to begin with. You may get a horse over a jump
with them, but the after-effects are as bad as spurring your-
self on with whisky. It is the abuse of both that I am
speaking of. The actual necessity occurs probably once in
fifty times, but from this once riders get into the habit of
using them indiscriminately. If a horse will not go through
a run without this tormenter working in his flanks, one
may know he is not a true sportsman or has not had proper
schooling, and had better go back to the trainer or be sent
to the harrow where he belongs.

"Shall I never wear spurs ? " I am asked.

Yes, if you never use them.

"But shall I never have occasion to use them?"

I cannot prophesy for any one's future. I have ridden
to hounds more or less for the past twenty years, and never
used them since my first two or three seasons. A touch of
the crop or cutting whip is quite enough.

Custom seems to have dulled our sensitiveness to the
inhumanity of spurs. If we stop to think, how horrible it
is to see a comrade thrown over his horse's head, leaving a
trail of blood on his horse's neck from the saddle to his ears!
Who has not turned aside rather than see the sharp rowels
of a spur ploughing across the loins of a horse that has

126 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

refused a fence ? Who has not felt more sorry for the
horse than for the rider when both have fallen ? The side
of the horse is marked with a great clot of blood. A hun-
dred times the spur is used for the once that it ought to be.
A hundred times it is used by accident or unintentionally for
every occasion when it is necessary. How many times has
one seen riders, in going through woods, stab their mounts
in the side as their legs are bumped against trees or saplings,
or again when they duck their heads to clear a limb ! Is
it any wonder that some horses hate hunting, and cringe
and shiver when the groom hands them over to the
tormenter ?

Many of us fail to appreciate what a gulf separates the
horse who hunts with an incentive in his own head from the
one who is driven on by pricks and stings. They are as
wide apart as love and hate. Let me admonish you, my
novice reader, whatever you do, take your mount into the
game on equal footing with yourself. You may not always
think alike. You must expect to be annoyed, discomforted,
and perplexed. But keep this in mind : you are the part-
ner, with your greater degree of intelligence, from whom
must be expected the greater degree of forbearance.
Superior horsemanship, let me repeat, is distinguished from
inferior horsemanship by ability to adapt one's self to the
horse. It is only novices or the uncultivated in horseman-
ship who insist on making horses conform to their ways.

** What ! " some one protests, " would you put yourself
on a level with the brutes ? "

Precisely. It is impossible for " the brute " to move to
your exalted state of intelligence. Seek, therefore, to

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spurs 127

mould and fashion his actions to your way of thinking by
association and by example.

A horse learns by absorption, by companionship, not by
reason ; and as his sense of intuition is many times keener
than a man's, one will be surprised to notice how quick and
clever he is at divining his rider's thoughts and wishes.
The man's is the master mind, and if he is a genuine sports-
man in all things he will in no way seek to take advantage
of his less fortunate companion. A man is affected by the
company he keeps. A horse is so affected, too, only a great
deal more so, because intuition is the keenest of all his
faculties.

Let your greater strength of mind direct his greater
strength of body. Place yourself in the attitude toward
him that will best enable his keener instinct to acquire con-
fidence in you. Thus he will learn to lean on you, respect
you, consult your wishes, have faith in all you say and do.
This once accomplished, every day's sport together only
cements that indescribable bond of friendship which is yours
for the cultivation, and makes a day to hounds one of the
most enjoyable things in life. This sympathetic bond of
friendship is what makes English riders the keenest cross-
country men in the world, and it is itself easily explained
by their natural love for animals. Without this compan-
ionship between rider and mount in England fox-hunting
would never have come to be what it is ; it is the very
essence of the game.

The spur is a relic of barbarism. Here is an ancient
prescription for its effective use from " Records of the
Chase" by Cecil. It is given as a quotation from a very

128 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

old work on hunting, " believed to have been written by
a son of Edward III in the fourteenth century " :

FOR DEFY OF THE SPUR

Take and shave him [the horse] the breadth of a saucer on both
sides there as you will spur him ; then take a lancet and make six
issues through the skin the length of a wheat corn, and then take
a haundelere and raise the skin from the flesh and then put in a
quantity of burned salt, and this will make the sides to wrankle,
and keep him three days that he be not ridden and then set on him
with spurs and spur him in that place ; and then at night wash that
same place with urine & salt and nettles sodden therewith and
this shall grieve him sore that he will never abide spurs after ; then
take half a pint of honey and anoint his sides therewith three times
and this shall make the hair to grow and make him whole for
evermore.

If you must wear spurs, wear them without rowels, and
use them only as a last resort. If you find yourself, like
most riders, using them unconsciously in the excitement of
the chase, or accidentally when jumping, leave them at home.
If your experience is at all like mine, you will say your
horse is a far better, far bolder, far safer jumper without
them than he was with them.

They are necessary, in military riding, to make a horse
dress, or go sidewise to the right or left ; but beyond this
they are of little value even to the cavalryman. In flat
races they simply contract a horse's stride, and have lost
more races than they ever won.

XI

DRESS

" Buckskin 's the only wear fit for the saddle;

Hats for Hyde Park, but a cap for the chase;
In tops of black leather let fishermen paddle.
The calves of a fox-hunter white ones encase."

"a word ere we start," egerton warburton

XI

DRESS

THE ETIQUETTE OF THE HUNTING-FIELD THE OVER-DRESSED

THE UNDER-DRESSED THE SWELL

HE laws of dress for the hunting-field are
governed by an unwritten code. When the
hunting-coat is of pink, then white hunting-
breeches, top-boots, and a silk hat are requisite.
Otherwise a grey or dark melton, with or without tops,
breeches of any suitable cloth, and a derby or square-crowned
derby hat — but never the velvet cap, unless you are an
officer or servant of the hunt — are necessary. Do not dress
better than you ride. Over-dress marks the swell and the
novice, and is decidedly vulgar. At the same time you
should be thoroughly well dressed and especially well
groomed, keeping rather to the practical and the utilitarian,
as if you were out for business, not display. On the other
hand, it is equally poor taste to go to the other extreme
and ride in shirt-sleeves or without a hat. Such dress, or
undress, may be suitable for road riding, for exercise, or for
polo, but it is hardly showing proper respect to the Master
to present yourself in such attire in the hunting-field, espe-
cially when it is a regular meet. On a by-day a little more

131

132 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

liberty may be taken. You had better keep to the safe
side, and always be well within the limits of what the Mas-
ter, by his example, may prescribe.

The hunting-coat should have elastics in the sleeves to
shut out the wind. Wear a woollen shirt and a stock tie ;
the wool absorbs perspiration and prevents discomfort.

Pink is seldom worn in America, except at hunt balls.

As no well-regulated family is quite complete without
a black sheep, so no hunt club is quite complete without a
swell; and to write a book on hunting and not include
this interesting specimen would be a considerable omission.
Here he comes now, fresh from his valet, who is likewise
fresh from the tailor. You feel like betting ten to one the
clothes he wears are not paid for; but no matter: he had to
do it. In fact, it was the sight of the latest hunting fash-
ion-plate that decided him to take to hunting. His appear-
ance gives a deal of harmless amusement to the other
members. He has choked himself with a stock, and wears
a corset, or looks as if he did, in his wasp-waisted hunting-
coat. He wears number seven patent-leather boots on a
number eight foot. What an unhappy, uncomfortable
person he looks ! How can he be otherwise with boots
too small, coat too snug, stock too tight, and his horse a
long-legged, light-waisted, three-cornered animal of the
weedy thoroughbred order? Altogether he resembles a
gaudy rider in the show-ring. He is, indeed, out to show
off. After a good pull or two of jumping-powder from a
gold-mounted flask, he is quite fit to make a spectacle
of himself. He generally gets a damning from the
Master, either mentally or orally, for riding too near

Dress i ^i

his hounds, and seems utterly regardless of any rule of
hunting,

*' Hold hard, there ! " shouts the Master. ** Can't you see
you are driving the hounds off their noses ? Hold hard,
I say!"

" I wish," he adds mentally, *' you and all your kind
would take yourselves out of the hunt, and stay out. You
do not know the meaning of sport. You are a hindrance
and a dead-weight in any hunting-field. For rocking-chair
hunting at the club or as an ornament at the hunt ball you
do very well, but as a hunting man, never ! "

These, or words to this effect, every hunting man has
heard the Master say until he knows them by heart.

XII

FALLS

*' Rouse ye, my bonny steed, neatly collecting
All your strong quarters for a spring;
Thoughts of the danger our senses inflicting.

Life may depend upon your stride and your swing."

RHYMES IN RED

XII

FALLS

THE ART OF FALLING LEARNING TO FALL BAROMETER OF

FEAR FALLS NOT THE HORSe's FAULT

[HE art of falling may be considered as a
necessary accomplishment in riding to hounds.
Nothing will advance a novice further in the
*' noble science " than a few harmless falls.
It is a singular thing that a man never begins to ride until
he has been dumped over his horse's head. From that
moment he becomes a rider, whereas before he was only a
timid hanger-on, or so hampered by the dread of falling
that he could not ride. He finds it is not half so bad as he
had imagined. It benefits him in his hands and seat, and,
indeed, in every way.

There is a knack about falling, as there is about swimming.
No one can tell a beginner how to fall: he must learn by
experience. The great thing for the novice is to have had
enough practice in riding to save him from losing his head,
and then to get spilt often enough to acquire the necessary
schooling.

The first few times the novice goes to grass his mind
becomes a blank ; his head literally is lost. The mo-

137

138 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ment he finds himself going, fear takes such a hold upon
him that he is in a state of catalepsy, and goes through the
air and lands in a heap like a dead man. Even the law of
self-preservation is gone. Contact with the earth, how-
ever, brings him to himself. Some one catches his horse,
and he gets up again, none the worse for wear. From that
moment he is an altered man. So far from a course of falls
making him more timid than ever, he has gained — sup-
posing he is not altogether unacquainted with riding — a
great increase of courage when they are done. He rides
more easily, more gracefully. His coat, for a few times,
may look of the earth earthy, his breeches of the grass
grassy, but the dread and horror of being thrown are left
behind.

The learner's tuition by means of a series of falls follows
a more or less regular course. After the first few tumbles
he realises, with varying degrees of surprise or hardihood,
that going to grass may be done in divers ways. When,
for instance, having recovered from his first state of blank-
ness, he goes again at his fences, he discovers that his horse
has picked up the fear his rider left behind, and, thinking
another fall is due, refuses to jump. Thereupon out of the
saddle goes Novice once more ; he was not expecting to fall
on the take-off side of the fence. " Good ! " comments
the experienced spectator, inwardly. " Nothing better could
have happened him."

Again the horse is caught, and Novice mounts another
time, with courage still rising. The horse, however, has
been losing confidence, and feels that his insecurely seated
rider is likely to give him another painful jab in the mouth

b£)

<U

Falls 139

by getting the reins mixed or by holding on by the curb
instead of the snaffle ; but he is an old hand and does not
lose his temper. For a few jumps everything goes beauti-
fully. Novice feels as if his education were complete, and
imagines himself startling a field of experienced horsemen
with wonder, if not with envy, by his superior horseman-
ship— sure sign that another cropper is in pickle for him.
He grows careless. From riding with timidity, he begins
now to keep company with recklessness. '* That 's well,"
says the experienced friend. " One extreme follows another.
It 's a natural law." Novice is getting on beautifully.
The next header will, in all probability, set him back
where he belongs — about half-way between extreme tim-
idity and extreme recklessness, at a place designated cau-
tious-bold or bold-cautious on the cross-country rider's
barometer, which may be marked in some such way as this :

(i) Timid extreme; (2) fearful; (3) cautious; (4) cau-
tious-bold.

(4) Bold-cautious; (3) careless; (2) heedless; (i) reck-
less or ** daredevil " extreme.

Presently comes Novice on a new horse. This was not
wisdom, but he would have it. The animal, as it happens,
has always been a bit hot at his fences, and, like most inex-
perienced horses, jumps about as high again as is necessary
over the first few obstacles. This, Novice is not prepared
for, and just manages to scramble back into the saddle from
the horse's neck, not without having lost one of his stirrup-
irons. Novice catches his breath at the unexpected dis-

140 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

placement, and his mount, feeling considerably above
himself this morning, and taking alarm at this helter-
skelter scramble on his back and neck, gets the bit in
his teeth and rushes away with an idea that there is no
one at home. Novice was warned by the groom, but he
was riding at '' heedless," and what the groom said did
not count.

The very first jump, however, sends him back to the
"fearful" mark. Now that his mount is running with
him, he wishes he had listened. But others are looking
on, and he makes no sign. After a turn or two about
the field, going at his own sweet will, his mount comes
to hand. Novice has lost his hat in the meantime.
He looks pale. He does not think so much of cross-
country riding as he did. Somehow his enthusiasm for
riding to hounds has nearly oozed out of him. Before
this he has talked hunting to every one who would listen,
read every author on the subject he could find by day, and
dreamed about it by night. He has ordered a new hunt-
ing-coat, boots, and breeches. But now he thinks he
should prefer yachting.

The groom, bringing him his cap, inquires : " Are n't the
stirrups a bit long for you this morning, sir?" — a master
stroke of tact. Novice assents as if he had known all the
time what the matter was. Meantime there has been a
little breathing-spell for the mount, which, having rid him-
self of the surplus kinks in his back and legs, and feeling
somewhat relieved of his supercharge of strength, is now the
picture of docility. Novice nevertheless is trying to frame
a plausible excuse for sending him to the stable, when some

Falls 141

one says, " Try him again," and another, " You are not going
in, are you? "

" Not much," replies Novice, in a voice intended to con-
vey a sense of composure and determination.

There is no turning back now. He has burned the
bridge behind him. So, with set features, he crams on his
cap, takes a good hold of the reins, hardens his heart, and
away he goes over.

" Well done ! "

" Good boy ! "

**Try it again ! "

"Beautifully jumped ! "

" Perfect form ! "

Exclamations of approval greet his half-dazed senses as
he comes to a halt before the lookers-on. Now the hand
on the barometer points at bold-cautious, and his spirits rise
once more. He wishes he had ordered a pink instead of a
grey melton for his hunting-coat.

So far his jumping has been confined to timber hurdles
between wings built up on a schooling-ground. Another
jump or two he negotiates successfully. The colour returns
to his face, which is now wreathed in smiles that he can no
longer suppress for the tumult of joy going on within him.
He proposes to try the bank and ditch, though his groom
demurs.

"Why not?" asks our bold rider.

"Well, please yourself, sir. Only send him at it so as
to clear the ditch."

It is bad advice too well followed. With too long a
start, the mount takes off too soon, Novice thinking he was

142 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

going to put in another stride before he jumped. He is
not prepared, is out of balance. His mount catches a
knee on the bank, ploughs a hole through the top of it
with his hind legs, and horse and rider are both in the
ditch.

"Nothing better could have happened," reiterates our
experienced rider as he sees the mount racing for the barn
and Novice brushing the soil from his clothes before he is
fairly on his feet. " Don't give up defeated."

"Not much," says Novice, with chattering teeth.

" At it to within the last few strides," advises the expe-
rienced friend, " and mind he does n't refuse with you at
the last moment."

It is timely advice again, for refuse he does, and Novice
shuts up and opens like a jack-knife while going through
the air. He lands, however, on all fours across the ditch,
while his horse stands with his feet braced against the
bottom of the bank. The law of self-preservation has
stood by him, and he saves himself a bad jar, if nothing
more, by landing on his hands and feet and scrambling on
out of the way of his mount should he be turning a somer-
sault after him.

Novice's history is typical. During the first falls reason
and instinct disappear. The ground comes up and hits one
in the face. The time between leaving the saddle and
landing is a blank. Fear cuts off all the faculties. But
after a few croppers without serious injury, fear has less
hold. Self-preservation begins to work. One falls semi-
intelligently, even retaining presence of mind enough to
hold on to the reins and take them along over the horse's

Falls 14.3

head in a neat and workmanlike manner. And when one
can do this he knows how to fall.

I doubt if any one can retain entire presence of mind
throughout a fall. As we feel ourselves going, reason de-
serts us. When we come to our senses again we find
that a kind of second mind has acted in the interest of
self-preservation, under the influence of which we have
clung to the bridle-reins or scrambled the length of our-
selves to get from beneath a possible somersault of the
horse.

Some say never part company with your horse until the
last moment, when he is surely down. I cannot agree with
this counsel. I believe it is the better part of valour and
of horsemanship to part company with him the moment
you feel that the chances are he is going down. Of course
your horse may recover and you might have saved yourself
the inconvenience of mounting again, but it is better by far
to clear out while you have the power of self-preservation
to go with you, and land on your hands and feet, than to be
an instant too late and so be carried under your mount.
You will go to grass oftener perhaps by adopting this plan,
but it is better to throw yourself off than to wait until you
are thrown off. No one can tell you how this is done; in-
stinct only can direct. Ride by balance, give yourself up
wholly to the law of self-preservation, and instinct will do
the rest.

It is safe to say not one fall in a thousand is accompanied
by injury; and that the greater number of falls are the fault
of the rider there can be no doubt. Nine times out of ten
a horse goes down because he is thrown by the rider, either

144 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

from the rider's being himself out of balance or throwing
his horse out. Think, after all, what an easy thing it is to
overbalance a person when he is not on both feet. A sud-
den swerve of the rider's body sideways in mid-jump will
be sure to land his horse with a fall or a scramble to regain
his footing. Similarly a lurch of the rider's body back-
ward at the take-off retards the action of the horse and
makes him jump short, so that even if he clear the obstacle
with his fore feet his hind legs are caught on the fence.
Again, by an improper seat, if the rider's body lurches
heavily forward as the mount lands, the horse is thrown on
his head and a somersault is the result. On the other hand,
when a horse is given perfect freedom of rein in clearing
an obstacle, and his rider sits him by balance, a spill is well-
nigh impossible.

XIII
COURAGE VS. FUNK

*' At the fall of the year, when fair autumn is here

And the glories of summer are fled.
When the evenings are long and the breezes are strong.

And the leaves in the covert lie dead —
Then, then is it time to our saddles to climb.

And in scarlet ourselves to adorn.
To welcome our sport of the old-fashioned sort —

To follow the hounds and the horn."

AT THE FALL OF THE YEAR

XIII
COURAGE VS. FUNK

TRUE AND FALSE NERVE CATALEPTIC RIDERS PREPARATION

A CASE OF FUNK THAT REACHED COLLAPSE

[OURAGE is a product of nerve. Nerve
is the result of health. Health comes from
good nutrition, and nutrition depends upon
the stomach. The best way to produce cour-
age is to cultivate good health. The best way to cultivate
good health is to take plenty of exercise in the open air.
The best way to accomplish this is to ride horseback. A
torpid liver makes a mountain of an ant-hill ; a stout
stomach makes an ant-hill of a mountain ; and no matter
what the obstacle is, it is only what it looks to be.

The one great thing in the way of a horse's education
and of successful cross-country work is fear. The way to
subdue fear in a horse is by confidence. The way to over-
come fear in a rider is to keep the body in a healthy con-
dition. Weak, shattered nerves are a fruitful source of
fear in man, and a horse's natural timidity makes it easy to
transmit fear to the horse. Anything the rider can do or
not do to strengthen his nerves will likewise strengthen his
courage and the horse's. If tobacco irritates his nerves, he

147

148 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

had better stop using it. If spirits excite them to a tension
that leaves them more languid and unstrung than before,
he may know by that sign that these things also are a
hindrance.

A run, sir, will please you far better than wine ;
The farther you gallop, the better you '11 dine.

It is a lamentable sight indeed to see a man with nerves
so weak that he must needs get half drunk before he has
nerve enough to ride to hounds. I am not going to preach,
but simply to caution. *^ Stimulants of any kind, — except
exercise, fresh air, wholesome food, and sound sleep, —
while they may produce a temporary effect, only make a
man's nerves weaker than they were before. It is really a
nauseating sight to see a man in the hunting-field ** getting
his spirits up by putting spirits down," open confession as
it is of weakness, fear, and funk.

There are all degrees of courage. Bravery and courage
have a common ancestry in nerve. Recklessness, heedless-
ness, and daredevilry, on the contrary, are born of fool-
hardiness, which is the utter absence of courage. Some
men and more women, I believe, perform feats in the hunt-
ing-field which pass for nerve or courage, but which, when
we come to analyse them, we find due entirely to the
absence of these qualities. There can certainly be no
courage where no danger is felt or seen ; nerves that are
insensible to pain are not nerves.

That many men and women ride to hounds with cour-
age and nerve in a sort of cataleptic state, there can be no

Courage vs. Funk 149

question. On the field of battle, it is said, men lose all
sense of fear and do things that seem wonderfully brave and
courageous, when the truth is that they have passed, for the
time being, beyond the effects of fear or courage. Men
frequently do things in an apparently cool and natural way
while what we call nerve is — instead of being active —
simply in abeyance. Women do many heroic things the
very thought of which, when their nerve and courage
return, is enough to make them taint.

Some persons, especially nervous people, ride to hounds
in a similar state, particularly when in the act of jumping.
They send their horses at a fence *' neck or nothing," and
are regarded as brave and courageous, when the fact is they
could not have taken it coolly if they had tried. In other
words, it is a case of fear. The same is true of a cowardly
horse. He rushes neck or nothing over his fences as he would
rush a steam-roller. The rider rushes his fences as he
would rush a crazy man firing a revolver at random. It
is fear pure and simple, but it is often called courage.
Horses and riders of this sort go into a trance ; that is, they
sense the danger to a certain point, just as a soldier dreads
and fears the bullets until the first round is over and he
passes beyond fear. It is well known that a criminal
who breaks down utterly at the thought of being hanged
will, when the hour comes, walk out upon the scaffold with
more composure than any person in sight. We call it
courage in the face of death. It is neither, but a provision
of a kind Providence to rob him, for the time, of all sense of
fear. The really brave man, the truly courageous horse, is
one who knows the danger, who realises as clearly and

150 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

knows as distinctly what he is doing at the moment as he
does afterward in looking back upon it.

Hardly less important than presence of mind are fore-
sight and preparation. A business man, or a person of
sedentary habits, who found he did not enjoy last season's
hunting until the very last few days, was probably unpre-
pared for it. One ought really to begin a month or more
before the season opens to condition one's self and fit one's
self out. The sooner a person learns that this and strength
of nerve alone enable him thoroughly to enjoy hunting, the
longer and keener will be his pleasure. ** There is no
use," many men have said in the States, giving up hunting
after a year or two, " in punishing and goading one's self
into a pastime in which a man is tortured with fear." The
trouble is that they go to the hunting-field with no prepa-
ration beyond closing their offices and packing their kits.
It is hardly any wonder that they go in fear and trembling,
nerved only by friends and lookers-on.

When you stop to think about it, you would not ask a
horse to go through a day's hunting after he had been
running about in a farm-yard all winter. It would be
absurd. You have him taken up six or eight weeks at
least before the opening of the season, and fed and groomed
and exercised until he is as hard and fit as possible. In-
deed, when you come to mount him you may find him so
much above himself that your nerves begin to quake; you
have to resort to stimulants. Even then, possibly, you ride
him only a few miles and return home completely ex-
hausted. A pack of hounds could not run far with no
more physical exercise than you have had for the last eight

Courage vs. Funk 151

months. They could not catch a fox if he were " hoppled."
Certainly not, you say; no one would dream of such a
thing. Yet it is what many men do for themselves in
their own cases.

The season opens October i. By July i kennel work
begins. It is walk, walk, walk, and trot, trot, trot, every
day a little farther. Even the foxes have been bustled
about for a month to make them give a good long chase.
Your mount is fit. Everything and everybody is ready
and thoroughly prepared for the chase, excepting you for
whom all this preparation has been made, the one of all the
group who should be as fit himself as is the horse he is
going to ride or the hounds he expects to follow.

Every season brings to the Genesee Valley and other
hunt clubs a score or more of soft, nerve-sick men, who
expect to begin riding to hounds the next day, without
having lifted a finger toward conditioning themselves.
Lamentable sights indeed they are to the natives and the
conditioned men who come out to join them. We have
seen them at covert-side, when waiting for the whip-
per's-in cry of " Tally-o, gone away ! " and the huntsman's
rallying cheer " Edawick, Edawick ! " actually speechless and
but little short of collapse. Their faces are as pale as
ashes ; their supercharged horses only add to their unhap-
piness. I remember one case in particular of a gentleman

from Boston who was a guest, for the week, of a Mr. H ,

and who had that morning arrived, with only time to dress
before the hour of the meet came round. His mount
had been sent on ahead. The guest was a fine, large,
upstanding man, a little on the corpulent side of life. He

152 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

had ridden in the valley the year before, and, while he
was not a " threshing scoundrel " of a rider, had acquitted
himself fairly well. But this morning evidently his nerve
was gone. He trembled so he could hardly get into the
saddle. His host had mounted him on his old trustworthy
Billy Claffy, as honest an old hunter as ever laid a foot to
grass, whom nothing could make do wrong. He was as
sober-going as a deacon passing the Sunday plate. Now it
so happened Billy's rider and I came alongside of each
other on the way to the covert. I spoke a few words to
him, but he could not answer for a moment. Finally he
faltered : ** I am going to fall off at the very first fence."

"Nonsense!" said I, reassuringly. "With Billy Claffy
vou are as safe as if you were in a trundle-bed with your
own mother to rock it."

But, sure enough, in jumping over a three-rail fence on
the way to the Hartman fiats, off went the guest like a
quarter of beef Co-chug ! he landed on the grass in a
sitting posture, with one foot sticking through his new silk
hat. It was about the most laughable sight I ever saw.
The fall seemed to daze him for a moment ; then, recov-
ering himself, he cried out : " Catch my horse ! Here,
somebody ! I say, there, catch my horse ! "

Billy Claffy, all the while, was not the length of himself
away, quietly eating grass. This was the end, so far as I
ever knew, of this gentleman's riding. It was a case of
funk that reached collapse, and all for want of a little
preparation.

In another field of sport we see similar cases every year
in the woods of Maine and Canada. The typical city man

t^rMir^ s:

Courage vs. Funk 153

goes shooting, following, or trying to follow, a guide over
rough ground, when he has not walked more than quarter
or half of a mile a day for a year. When he comes home
he has a fit of sickness and is more in need of a vacation
than when he started.

How shall you prepare yourself? First shut down a bit,
if not altogether, on tobacco and liquors. Take one Turk-
ish bath, or possibly two, a week, if you are carrying too
much fat. Begin with Indian clubs or dumb-bells at
home, if you cannot go regularly to a gymnasium, and work
moderately, say for one hour, with frequent resting and
afterward a cold spray before you go to bed. Repeat the
exercise and shower next morning before dressing for the
day. Increase the exercise until you can do two hours at
night and at least one in the morning, and in addition walk
to your office, or as much of the way as possible, and back
again. For the reasons already given in the chapter on
"Seat," in the passages speaking of riding by balance and of
the law of self-preservation, fencing or boxing would in all
probability be the best possible exercise for you. There is
no indoor sport like fencing. It trains the nerves, quickens
instinct, and developes every muscle in the body. There is
nothing better suited to a man after his college days are
over.

Without this preparation, or something like it, your va-
cation will end just where it should have begun. Fit your-
self to be a suitable companion to your mount, and he will
give you such a month of sport as will keep your blood
tingling for a year to come. I cannot convey to you by
any words the great gulf there is fixed between the man

154 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

who goes to his vacation fit and the one who is not. Try
both ways and see. A horse above himself with "over-
fit" and a man beneath himself with "under-fit" make
about as unsociable a couple as ever come together in the
hunting-field.

XIV
THE HOUND

■ So model thou thy pack, if honour touch
Thy gen'rous soul, and the world's just applause.
But above all take heed, nor mix thy hounds
Of diff'rent kinds; discordant sounds shall grate
Thy ears offended, and a lagging line
Of babbling curs disgrace thy broken pack."

SOMERVILLE

XIV
THE HOUND

STANDARD OF EXCELLENCE DRAFTING FOR FAULTS AMERICAN

AND ENGLISH HOUNDS COMPARED

HE foxhound has attained his present degree
of perfection after two hundred years and
more of the most careful selecting and breed-
ing. It is owing to the persistent striving of
English masters of hounds, generation after generation, to
produce the highest standard of utility, combined with
beauty and symmetry of form, colour, and markings, the
nicest balancing of tongue and nose, and the utmost uni-
formity in pace, that these and the dozen other qualities
that go to make a perfect hound have been achieved.
There is no animal in the world, not even the horse, that
has had such attention paid to its breeding as the foxhound
has had in England. Few families can show an unbroken
pedigree of such length as may be traced in those of thou-
sands of foxhounds, and, when it comes to breeding, equally
few in the nation can produce such purity of blood
and such an untarnished escutcheon as the foxhounds of
the present day in England. Indeed, there is none in the
whole list of domestic animals whose standard of excellence

157

158 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

can be compared with that of a hound. The foxhound is
the only animal of which it cannot be said

One genius will but one body fit ;
So wide Is art, so narrow human wit.

In cattle and horses, as in all other domestic animals, one
quality beyond symmetry and beauty is about all one breed
can be asked to develope. Occasionally a zealous breeder
will set up a claim that his breed of cattle is superior in
two points of excellence, as, for instance, in both butter and
milk, or in both beef qualities and in milk. Such animals,
however, cannot compete with either the trained dairy or
the trained beef breeds. Some breeder of sheep may set
up a claim that his particular breed of sheep is superior for
both wool and mutton. Such sheep, however, are in the
one case always beaten at a sheep-shearing contest, and in
the other, again, in competition with a mutton breed.

To say of a horse that he is good for speed and draft
means that he excels at neither.

One breed of dogs may be noted for its beauty, another
for its symmetry, another for its grace or uniformity in
colour and markings. The English foxhound is the
equal, if not the superior, of any family, however distin-
guished in any one particular. As to endurance and muscu-
lar development, nothing approaches him. The Duke
of Rutland's champion stud-hound Belvoir Dexter mea-
sures eight and a quarter inches around the forearm, and
is muscled throughout in proportion. In general hunting
ability a foxhound possesses the fling and drive of a pointer
and the speed of a race-horse. He has the keenest of
noses and the most musical of tongues. Indeed, there is

The Hound 159

not a single desirable quality to be imagined in a dog that
he does not possess ; not a single attribute of an ideal
hound for hunting hares, foxes, or deer that he has not had
bred into him. Yet, wonderful as it is to find so many
qualifications in a single animal, they are but the founda-
tion of what an English breeder is satisfied with for his
pack. A first-class pack of hounds consists, on an average,
of fifty couples. Any man who has had experience in
breeding pointers or setters knows what it means to grow
a single pair of dogs that work properly together after
birds ; what, then, must it mean to produce a hundred
hounds " with but a single thought " ?

For a description of an ideal English foxhound we can-
not do better than call on Somerville as follows :

His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue,

In lights or shades by nature's pencil drawn.

Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs,

Fleckt here and there, in gay enamell'd pride.

Rivals the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail

O'er his broad back bends in an ample arch;

On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands;

His round cat-foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs,

And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed,

His strength, his wind, or on the steepy hill,

Or far-extended plain.

The following imperfections would draft a young hound,
no matter what his other qualities might be : a coarse head;
a head lacking in character; a short neck; a throaty neck; a
slackness behind the shoulders; a weak loin; a stern set on too
low or not properly carried ; a narrow chest ; legs lacking bone ;
crooked legs; weak joints; large flat feet and long toes; de-
fects of colour or markings ; a lack of general robustness.

i6o Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Any one of these defects is almost certain to draft a hound
without even a trial in the field. Passing the examination
for these defects is like passing the masonic *' first degree."
Out of one hundred puppies that come in from their
"walks" from thirty-five to forty per cent, are thus drafted,
and of these first-draft youngsters some are killed at once.
In doing this, to be sure, the huntsman or master may be
destroying some of the best working hounds of the pack,
or the best in breeding, and it takes a bit of courage to kill
a fine upstanding youngster because he is badly formed in
some essential. Occasionally a drafted hound of very
superior breeding is given a chance of a field trial; but he
is half doomed to start with, and unless he should prove
himself something above the average in field work, he
would be the first to go in the second draft.

It would seem that after hounds had passed such rigid
examinations as the above they were entitled to admission
without more ado. The hardest examination, the supreme
test, however, is still to come. The first draft was by a
standard of ** Handsome is that perfect is." The second
test is " Handsome is that handsome does," and elevates the
candidate from a dog to a hound. The hound that is
finally found good enough to become a member of this
most aristocratic family must be :

Not too tall or too short;*

* Twenty-three or twenty-four inches is the standard. If a hound is over that
he IS classed as a staghound and is in demand for packs that chase the stag or hunt
the wild deer. If below that standard he finds his way into the harrier packs.
The beagle hounds are still smaller than the harriers, and are used to hunt the hare
on foot. They are nevertheless members of the foxhound family, the difference
being principally in size.

The Hound i6i

(x) Neither too slow nor too fast ;

Not too free in giving tongue.

(x) He must not give too little ; a hound that runs mute
is killed without further delay, and so is a confirmed
babbler.

He must not be a line hunter — one that insists on follow-
ing with his nose the very track of the fox.

(x) He must not be a skirter, or one that runs too wide
and is content to let the other hounds do the hunting ; he
must be a worker in every respect and not a hanger-on.

He must have a melodious voice, neither too high nor
too low; of such a pitch, that is, as makes no discord in the
melody of the pack.

(x) He must never tell a lie by giving tongue to a line
until he is absolutely certain.

(x) He must not take to running the scent or line of any
other animal. A hound that is at all given to running riot
has the death-warrant read to him, with little chance of
a reprieve.

A cross (x) in the above enumeration means that for a
defect in that particular the sentence is death. Hounds that
fail in this second test go out in what is called the second
draft, and are usually sold for a nominal sum to form the
nucleus of some foreign pack, or to some neighbouring pack
which wishes to obtain good blood for a little money.

By the time the second draft is completed, fifty per cent.

of the year's crop of puppies have been weeded out. This

does not take into account the distemper, a malady to

which, of course, all are subject and of which many die.

Next comes the third degree. The requirements are

1 62 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

quite as rigid as in the first and second degrees. The
hound must prove himself to be:

Neither quarrelsome nor timid.

Neither slovenly nor too fastidious.

Neither a glutton nor a poor feeder.

Neither sulky nor quick-tempered.

Neither too meek nor disobedient.

Having passed this critical test under the watchful eye of
the kennel huntsman, who has little indulgence or in-
clination to excuse, and being thus duly and truly prepared,
the dog is permitted by the master to pass into the inner
court, the holy of holies, as master workman, with the
enviable distinction of being thereafter styled a thoroughly
qualified foxhound.

We have gone in some detail into this question of
standard and of drafting for two reasons: first, to show the
novice the almost priceless value of a hound ; and, second,
to set an example that may elevate the standard of hound-
breeding in America to the position it holds in England.

In the States the rule is *' Handsome is that handsome goes " ;
and everything goes. Generally speaking, the hound is looked
upon as a dog. To speak of a hound in England as a dog
would offend quite as much as it would in America to call a
well-bred dog a cur. Americans are very clever, as a rule,
in " catching on" to any new enterprise; but the art or sci-
ence of breeding domestic animals for improvement is not,
as a rule, one of their accomplishments. There are, how-
ever, a few masters of hounds in Canada and the United
States who have caught the spirit, the fascination, the great
pleasure, there is in the art and science of breeding. Let

The Hound 163

us hope the ambition which Mr. Thomas Hitchcock, Jr.,
has for his pack of pure-bred American hounds at Aiken,
South Carolina, to mark out a line of improvement toward
a higher standard, will meet with the unqualified success it
deserves. It is a most sportsmanlike undertaking. The
most he had to start with was a nose and a musical tongue.

For the most part the so-called American hound is a sort
of nondescript dog, without a standard. American hounds,
which are all more or less of bloodhound extraction, are
certainly very well adapted to hunting the hilly, rough
country, the ploughed and sun-baked fields generally, of
their native land. They are most methodical, painstaking,
and plodding, and seldom fail, if they can follow the trail
at all, to account for the fox.

They are well enough, that is, so far as they go ; but
fox-hunting is not simply the killing of a fox. A home-
made snare, a rat-trap, or a bit of **rough-on-rats" would
do that much with far more ease and despatch. Whoever
has ridden to a nondescript pack of hounds, in which
absence of any kind of uniformity is the chief characteristic,
and has afterward followed a pack of up-to-date foxhounds
in England, will have marked such a contrast as will for-
ever after prevent him from repeating what one so often
hears in America : " I don't care what a hound is like, as
long as he can hunt ! "

An erroneous notion is current among hunting men in
America that in some way symmetry and beauty are antago-
nistic to utility, and that the American hound is better, if
anything, than the English. It must be admitted that there
is some excuse, if no reason, for this belief. When Ameri-

164 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

cans send abroad for hounds they are invariably selected
from the fashionable racing packs of the great grass coun-
tries. These hounds have symmetry and beauty and the
speed of greyhounds, and for their own particular country
are the best in the world. An American hound might well
think himself nothing but a cur in such company, and
would be left hopelessly behind in the second or third
field. The trouble is that in the beautiful grass countries,
with their prevailing moist climate, the scent of a fox lies
so well that a hound with half a nose can follow it at full
speed. Brought to the States and asked to follow a line
over sun-parched fields and fallow land, he is more often at
fault than an American hound ; yet the fault is not with the
English hound, but with the locality from whence he came.
There are many packs in England where far more suitable
selections of hounds for America could be made than those
which come from the grass countries. I mean such packs
as hunt the more barren and hilly lands, in which conditions
as to scent are similar to those of the States.

Whatever is done, Americans should not be content
longer with " Handsome is that handsome does." Let
them preserve untarnished the sport of the game, and not
lower the hunting part of it to the level of a rat-trap.
If it is merely a question of getting across a lake, take a
ferry. If it is a question of sport, take a sail-boat. You
may need more time, but you have the satisfaction of doing
the thing in a sportsmanlike way.

XV
HOUND BREEDING

"See there, with countenance blithe.
And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound
Salutes thee, cowering; his wide-opening nose
Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes
Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy,"

SOMERVILLE

XV
HOUND BREEDING

ORIGIN OF THE BREED DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY THE SKILL

OF ENGLISH BREEDERS MATING AND BIRTH

HERE is much discussion among hound-
fanciers as to the origin of the foxhound,
historically speaking a new family, the result
of cross-breeding, or out-crossing, from the
bloodhound. All authorities agree that the bloodhound
is the ancestor on one side. As to the other, opinions dif-
fer. Most writers say the out-cross was with the South-
ern hound, himself an offshoot of the bloodhound. There
are many things about the present-day foxhound, as well
as the bloodhound, that suggest the greyhound. Both
the greyhound and the bloodhound, for instance, are known
to be of ancient family. The characteristic of the one
family is great speed; of the other, superior olfactory
powers. The former pursues its game entirely by sight,
the latter depends entirely upon scent. Originally hunting
in England was done with hounds that had special indi-
vidual propensities. Some were used to hunt in cover,
while those that hunted by view were used in the opening.
"The horn," says Cecil, in " Records of the Chase," "was
used indiscriminately to call them together."

167

1 68 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Probably the bloodhound and the greyhound were used
together, each for the special work in which the other was
deficient, as a stalwart blind man might carry a cripple
who could see to guide him. It would therefore be a
natural step, since one hound could hunt only by sight and
the other only by scent, to cross them with a view to com-
bining the superior ability of each. Another bit of evi-
dence to be found in Cecil is the passage in which he says
the dogs were " crooked-lean, coarse-haired, with heavy
eyes and of a tan colour." This is the description neither of
a greyhound nor of a bloodhound, but of some cross-bred
animal of the two families, having the "crooked-lean" of
the greyhound type, with the "heavy eyes" and "tan
colour" of the bloodhound. But even if this evidence,
and more of the same sort, were entirely lacking, there are
most unmistakable traces in the English foxhound, as he
stands to-day, of a strong dash of the greyhound as well as
of the bloodhound ; compare the pictures opposite.

The greyhound is described in a very old couplet which
comes as near being a description of an English foxhound
of to-day as would be a description of a contemporary
bloodhound. The " neck like a drake's," " back like a
beam," the great depth of chest, the shortness of the joints
below the knees and hocks, not to mention speed, undoubt-
edly are points common to the three species. English
breeders have not only preserved in the foxhound certain
distinguished features of the greyhound, but they have also
developed in him certain characteristics of conformation
peculiar to him and to no other family or race of dogs. It
is sufficient to mention the wonderful increase of bone, the

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Hound Breeding 169

straightness of the fore legs, and the shape of the feet.
They have succeeded also, as will be seen in the pictures
of foxhounds in this volume, in preserving the head-car-
riage and the neck of the greyhound, the latter as much
smaller in proportion to the size of the foxhound's body
as the legs, especially the fore legs, are enlarged. This,
again, shows to what a wonderful degree of comeliness and
utility these animals have attained. Altogether I reaffirm
my belief that the English foxhound is the most wonderful
example of the art of breeding for improvement anywhere
to be observed.

It is by no means easy to produce a new breed of domes-
tic animals, even under the most favourable circumstances.
We may cross two families of dairy cattle, or two families
of beef cattle, or the thoroughbred with the standard horse,
with a view to producing a new family ; but it would be
considered madness and a waste of time to attempt to form
a new breed by crossing a thoroughbred with a clydesdale.
In crossing families of similar tendencies, the first cross
often produces a very useful animal ; after that what the
two families have in common will be their original inferior-
ity. The improvements developed in either family through
fifty or a hundred or hundreds of years disappear. A
clydesdale and a thoroughbred would not mix or blend any
more than oil and water would. The greyhound-blood-
hound cross must have been quite as rank an out-cross as a
thoroughbred-clydesdale cross, and many times more difficult.
The greyhound, entirely deficient in nose, and the blood-
hound, depending on nothing else, — the slowest and the
fastest, the loudest, deepest-mouthed, and the most silent, —

170 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

it is impossible to imagine a greater gulf to bridge. Theo-
retically it sounds most desirable; in practice it must have
been the hardest task ever undertaken. How disappointing
the results may have been all the way down the line we may
never know, but that the English have fought it out is to their
highest credit. I say " fought it out," but the battle indeed
is not yet finished. It is not at all infrequent, even at the
present day, to have a hound cast back with such marked
characteristics of the greyhound in one case, or of the
bloodhound in another, as to disqualify him as a foxhound
entirely; nor are such examples of atavism uniform in cer-
tain mothers, for puppies of the same litter often display
the opposite characteristics of the original progenitors.
One puppy is drafted for being too slow and painstaking,
another for being unable to follow the line, another for
being too free of tongue, and still another for being mute.

Constant tendency to revert to one parent or the other
of course makes all cross-bred breeding most difficult. Mr.
Peas, in his excellent work *^ Hunting Reminiscences,"
says it probably is within the mark to say that a Master
who raises sixty or eighty couples of puppies thinks himself
fortunate if out of the number there are ten or twenty
couples that come up to the standard at which he aims ;
and that out of this he can hope only now and again to
find a couple fit to win at the Peterborough Hound Show.

Some Americans — usually, I believe, the men who have
tried and failed — scoff at what they call ** fancy breeding."
The trouble is, they have failed almost entirely to grasp
the nature of the problem.

For the best stud-sires Americans have paid to English

Hound Breeding lyi

breeders millions of dollars, simply for the thing so many of
them scoff at — style and beauty. "Fancy breeding" in-
deed! Five thousand dollars are paid for a bull, ten
thousand for a horse, when a bull of equal weight could
be bought in the States for fifty dollars and for two
hundred dollars a horse that could draw as large a load.
A five-dollar dog could bark at a squirrel quite as well as
one that cost five hundred dollars in England. The high
prices are for style, symmetry, beauty. One may shout,
"Handsome is that handsome does," until he is black in
the face. Simple utility in anything is a matter of pennies.
It costs dollars, and hundreds of them, to buy style and form
and beauty. There is no use going to England for the
best pack of hounds in that country if a man does not ap-
preciate what it means and has cost to produce them.
They would only deteriorate on his hands. England may
be slow and behind the times in some respects, but in the
art and science of breeding she is two hundred years ahead
of America. In the last few centuries there have been
developed in England half a dozen or more new and dis-
tinct families of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, poultry, and
dogs, while in the States there are only the standard bred
trotter, produced more by accident than by design, and the
" American Dominion " hen, which latter, I am informed, is
now well-nigh extinct.

It may sound unpatriotic to say all this of one's own
country, but the writer's great desire to see American
breeders generally, and American masters of hounds in par-
ticular, take hold of this question of breeding for improve-
ment on a plane level with their intelligence must be his

172 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

excuse. Any one can breed curs: only an artist can turn
out hounds that year after year are more and more sym-
metrical, beautiful, and fitted to the special purposes for
which they are intended. I would hear no more of this
" Handsome is that handsome does," but insist upon it that
American hounds should be as perfect in build and beauty
as their noses are true to the line. The beauty of hunting,
what most captivates and keeps one at it, is the manner and
style with which the hounds unravel the line. It is the
neatness and despatch, the fling and drive with which they
follow their game that one most enjoys, especially so if to
all these good qualities there is added beauty — uniformity
in size, colour, and markings.

In the breeding of hounds the question of right mating
is a very interesting one. Most masters take great pains
and give special thought to the problem as to which of
certain stud-hounds should be used on certain bitches. The
question of pedigree has to be gone over carefully to avoid
inbreeding. The faults of the bitch must be corrected
in the selection of the sire. Forrester is a grand stamp of
hound, with the best legs and feet, but he is lacking in
freedom of tongue ; he is selected to be coupled with Mis-
tress, who, although not a babbler, loves almost too well to
hear the music of her own voice. Forrester cannot be
used on Bluebells, because his sire, like hers, was, although
not a skirter, in the habit of running wide. For Bluebells
the best line hunter of the pack is selected to prevent the
return in her descendants of the faults of her sire or grand-
sire. Quickstep, although a model hound herself, was sired
by a hound whose puppies turned out weak in the lower

Hound Breeding 173

joints. In order to stamp out that serious defect, Sampson,
quite a faulty hound in some respects, is selected because in
bone and straightness of legs he is nearly perfection.
Brightlight cannot be coupled with Overton, who would
suit her in every respect except that they both have rather
large feet. Thus we might go on enumerating combina-
tions without end.

Then, aside from producing hounds with the straightest
legs, the roundest cat-like feet, the deepest chests, the
stoutest shoulders and loins, the best of tongues, and the
greatest fling and drive, there must also of course be the most
delicate noses. The most difficult problem of all is to breed
hounds with size and at the same time with quality. The
suggestions made in the chapter on breeding horses may
be applied here with equal benefit.

Enough has been said to show what it means to produce
a perfect hound and to give an idea of the value and inter-
est the Master and huntsman must have in every puppy
considered good enough to come out in the yearly entry.
I have lingered a bit on this subject in my anxiety to
acquaint those unfamiliar with the life of a foxhound with
something more concerning his history. I desire that
when my supposititious novice finally comes out to hunt he
may appreciate the animals he is riding after as well as the
one that carries him, and somewhat share the Master's and
huntsman's feelings in regard to what they call their *' price-
less beauties." Besides, it will add much to his interest in
the game.

Now let us hark back to the kennels. The whelping
season is approaching. The bitches at this time require

174 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

special care and attention. They are separated from the
pack and put in special lying-in kennels, their diet changed
somewhat with the view of diminishing fever and increas-
ing the flow of milk.

When now the third revolving moon appears
With sharpen'd horns above the horizon's brink,
Without Lucina's aid, expect thy hopes
Are amply crown'd; short pangs produce to light
The smoking litter, crawling, helpless, blind ;
Nature their guide, they seek the pouting teat.

The puppies are confined with their mothers in the ken-
nels for a time, and later a wire netting gives them a small
enclosure. In fact, they are treated very much like a brood
of chickens. From four to six puppies is the average
number in a litter. Their eyes open when they are about
ten days old, and the small enclosure is eventually removed,
giving the whelps the freedom of the lawn or paddock.
It is a beautiful sight — forty or fifty fat, awkward puppies
tumbling about on the green. This goes on for six or
eight weeks, during which time they are taught to lap
milk preparatory to being weaned. After weaning they
live first on milk alone. Later they may find a bit of
nicely cooked oatmeal in the bottom of the pan, to which
presently is added a bit of cooked meat chopped fine. A
little later still, meat is given to them raw. About this
time, too, the huntsman goes out to call on farmers or
others whom he thinks may take a puppy to walk. Be-
fore a puppy is fit to wean, he is carefully tattooed or
marked about his ears, and branded on his side, and a care-

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Hound Breeding 17^

ful record is made of these brands, together with his colour,
markings, and breeding. Soon after he is weaned some of
the kennel servants, generally some superannuated member
of the hunt, goes out with a load of puppies, to deliver
them into the aprons of kindly disposed farmers' wives,
who for the year to come adopt them into the circle of
their domesticated household, to feed and chastise them and
bring them up in the way they should go. A look at the
puppy while at his walk shall be reserved for the follow-
ing chapter.

XVI
THE HOUND PUPPY AT WALK

*'Then drink, puppy, drink; and let every puppy drink
That is old enough to lap and to swallow;

For he '11 grow into a hound;

So we '11 pass the bottle round.
And merrily we '11 whoop and we '11 holloa."

OLD HUNTING SONG

"And then, after dinner we found him asleep
In the bedroom up-stairs, where he lay in a heap
On the bed, which he covered with patches of dirt, —
His pillow we found was my latest new shirt."

RHYMES IN RED

XVI
THE HOUND PUPPY AT WALK

AN IMPORTANT EVENT MISCHIEVOUS PROPENSITIES KENNEL

DISCIPLINE CUB-HUNTING

HE walk is a very important part of the life of
a foxhound. He does so much better when
he has the range of a whole farm instead
simply of the kennels, where distemper and
other epidemics are sure to prevail, that it is regularly a
part of his education. Of course he is a mischievous brat,
and makes no end of trouble. The farmer usually con-
siders it better to take a pair of hounds than one alone, for
when they are chewing away at each other they do less
harm than one of them would do chewing the farmer's
sealskin hat or Mrs. Farmer's fur muff.

The first year of a puppy's life, at walk under the indul-
gent care of Mrs. Farmer or her daughter, he surely looks
back upon as one of the most enjoyable periods of his
eventful career. He has nothing to do but eat, grow, and
be merry. A litter of pigs to play with in the barn-yard,
poultry to chase, cats to worry, perhaps a small boy for a
boon companion — he has little left to wish for in life. Of
course he makes the farmer swear and Madame Farmer de-

179

i8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound

clare she will never again allow another puppy on the
place ; to which her spouse answers : " Yes, you will ;
the huntsman will come here again next year, drink our
cider, stay to dinner, compliment your coffee, and go away
and send us another pair." Although the goodwife denies
that she was caught by the huntsman's nice speeches, her
husband strictly maintains his ground, and the question is
dropped with, from her: "We shall see. This last puppy
is the very worst one we ever had." But as she has been
saying this for years, it is not considered worthy of a reply.
The farmer and his wife seldom renew the question, but
when a neighbour calls, the first topic is the new puppy.
The poor woman declares that " everybody's life on the
farm is made miserable by the mischievous brute," and then
goes on to tell the latest tricks the scamp has played — how
he stole a leg of mutton as they were sitting down to din-
ner ; and again, one day when the presiding elder was there
to dinner, ate up the custard pudding the girl had set in the
summer kitchen to cool. "Steal ? They are the most
rascally set of thieves out of prison. Why, that puppy
kills more chickens and goslings every year than all the
skunks and foxes in the county ! The idea of growing up
a foxhound to hunt foxes and preserve the poultry ! Steal !
Why, only the other day this puppy here came home lug-
ging a neighbour's door-mat after him. And the butcher's
wagon came along one day, and while the butcher was
delivering a pound of sausages to the kitchen door the little
whelp stole a whole ham out of his wagon. Served him
right for gossiping with the hired girl. My land ! but he
was mad ! My husband took him in and gave him a glass

The Hound Puppy at Walk i8i

of cider, and when he came to the door again that puppy
came running up with a leg of mutton. ' Look here,' says
the butcher, * is that dog trained to empty my wagon for
you r

The farmer, too, has grievances. He has spent an hour
cleaning his overcoat, spongeing the mud-stains off, and
hanging it over the chair to dry while he gets ready for
church ; but when he comes to put it on it is nowhere to
be found. He hears a noise in the yard, and there is the
puppy dragging it through the mud, shaking and snarling at
it as if he were breaking a fox. At such times the farmer
is apt to think puppies destroy more straw hats than a
whole litter is worth, not to mention boots, shoes, slippers,
rubbers, and lap-robes. If anything from an almanac to a
bedspread is missing in the house, if anything from a curry-
comb to a horse-collar is missing from the barn, that puppy
did it. It is impossible to keep the children clothed, for
they will play with the puppies, whose teeth are as sharp
as razors. "The puppies are an awful nuisance," the
farmer ends; "but Mr. Master of Hounds is such a nice
man ! He sends me a brace of partridges or something
every year for Christmas. We came near winning the cup
he offered last year, too, for the best-walked puppy. The
huntsman — and he is a nice man, too — said if we had not
kept the puppy quite so well we should have had the cup.
Puppy was a little mite too fat, he said."

But although the puppy makes the farmer swear, and sets
everybody about the place by the ears, although the neigh-
bours and the butcher threaten to kill him, he thrives
under it all. He and the small boy who grow up together at

1 82 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

least understand each other; and indeed all love him per-
haps the better for the trouble he has given them. When,
in the course of a year, say in April or May, the huntsman
comes to take him up, everybody is sorry to see him go.
This departure from the farm is another very important
and trying time in the life of a foxhound. When the
hounds arrive at the kennels, the master comes out to look
them over, and this day drafts all those who show crooked
legs, weak joints, coarse heads, throaty necks, weak loins, or
any other blemishes. Again pedigrees and memoranda are
consulted. Some doubtful puppies may have another trial
on account of pedigree or a particular fondness the master
may have had for the fathers or mothers. All the lucky
ones are kennelled by themselves, and the indolent, happy-
go-lucky days of puppyhood are at an end. The stern
routine of the life of a foxhound has begun. A disconso-
late set the puppies are at this time. Some refuse to eat
until starvation finally drives them to it. Homesickness
actually is so great in some that they pine and die of it.
Some grow morose, and quarrel and fight and even kill each
other. Such fights never fail to bring the huntsman to the
door, and the offenders feel the sting of his double thong in
a way they will be a long time forgetting. Altogether
their treatment now is a very different thing from what
Mrs. Farmer used to give them. The poor brutes wish,
no doubt, they had been drafted with the rubbish. With
harsh words and continual correction, confined day and
night in a small room, obliged to sleep on hard wooden
benches — no wonder if they feel like felons. Once a day
some one comes to the door and drafts them into the

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The Hound Puppy at Walk 183

feeding-room one at a time, calling each by name. Some
one else is there to help a puppy remember what his or her
name is. " Barmaid, Barmaid, Barmaid ! " each time louder
than before, cries the kennel-huntsman. The timid puppy
starts, hesitates, runs back, gets a crack of the assistant's
lash, and in she goes.

After a week or so each dog-puppy is coupled to a
thoroughly trained bitch, and vice versa, and they go out for
a walk, the huntsman and whippers-in going with them on
foot. In the course of these promenades they are taken
through fields in which sheep are grazing. Any tendency
on a puppy's part to chase these brings correction of the
severest nature. In olden days, if a new-entry hound per-
sisted at all in going after a flock of running sheep he was
coupled with a stout ram and dragged about the fields, or
had his taste for sheep butted out of him by a ram who
would stand his ground. After a few weeks of this exercise
and discipline, the coupling is removed, and the huntsman
and whips go out mounted. This daily exercise increases
in distance until time for cub-hunting.

The life of a foxhound is generally from six to eight
years, four or five seasons of work in the hunting-field
usually finishing him. The master's heart is destined to be
once more saddened when the time comes to dispose of his
favourites because of infirmities or old age. Occasionally
some favourite. Bluebells for instance, is given the freedom
ot the place, and hangs about the stables, spending her
days basking in the sun or going with the master some^
times when he takes a walk ; or again you may find her
sleeping before the boiler-room fire, and by the notes that

184 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

escape her musical tongue, the convulsive twitchings of her
muscles, you knov^ she is running a fox once more in her
dreams. " Dear old Bluebells ! " says the master, looking
fondly down on her, closing the door softly, so as not to
disturb her, when he goes out.

Cub-hunting is a particularly interesting period in the
life of a foxhound. Many a promising puppy has finished
his career with one or two trials. He may be a magnifi-
cent hound in every way, but unable to control his tongue,
or run mute, or skirt. The master is particularly anxious
during these days as to how his new entry will turn out.
Cub-hunting itself is most interesting to all lovers of hound-
work. Its drawback is that, owing to the dry, hot weather
in September, scent evaporates or disappears so early in the
day that six in the morning is as late as it can be expected
to be followed. This means being called at half-past four.
To a real sporting man the reward for such early rising
should be quite sufficient, although I confess to a very limited
experience.

By the first of September the youngsters have become
quite proficient in road manners, and keep well clustered,
besides showing great improvement in muscle. Plenty of
road-walking has made their feet tough, but as yet they
have never been blooded to the game they are to hunt.
They have much to learn these cub-hunting days. The
inexperienced puppy drops his head to the scent of a rab-
bit, a squirrel, a skunk, or a coon, and away he goes, full of
fire and drive. But the huntsman knows it is not a fox,
for the old hounds have hunted the ground over and said
nothing about it ; and Puppy is rebuked. Next a rabbit

The Hound Puppy at Walk 185

jumps up in front of him, and he takes after it Uke a shot.
But the whipper-in takes after him, and " Ware rabbit !
Ware rabbit ! " he shouts, the thong of his hunting-crop
sinking into the puppy's very flesh. Puppy, humiHated,
sneaks back to join his fellows, with a look of reproach at
the huntsman. He was trying so hard to do his best !
The instinct for hunting has been bred in him for the last
two hundred years, and now when he is brought into the
woods he is flogged unmercifully. He sulks along while
the cut smarts, but presently a reliable hound hits off the
line.

"Hark to Pedro! Hark to Pedro! On, Barman ! On,
my beauty! "

Thus addressed by the cheery cry of the huntsman.
Puppy's spirit revives. He joins the others, gets a whiff of
the fox's line, and away goes his tongue in a joyous shout
as he drives at it with might and main.

Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail
Flourish'd in air, low-bending plies around
His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuffs
Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried,
Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart
Beats quick ; his snuffling nose, his active tail.
Attest his joy ; then with deep-opening mouth.
That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims
Th' audacious felon ; foot by foot he marks
His winding way, while all the list'ning crowd
Applaud his reas'nings.

On the outside another young entry catches the stronger
line of a rabbit, and goes after it with clamourous tongue.

1 86 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

taking three or four youngsters with him. But he has
not gone a rod before crack ! crack ! goes the whipper-in's
crop, Hke the report of a gun, straight at the false leader's
side. " Ware rabbit. Puppy ! Ware rabbit ! " A few strides
of the spur-pricked mount places the whipper-in in posi-
tion to head the puppies off, and the tooting horn of the
huntsman calls them back to the line of the hunted fox.

So the day is spent breaking in the new entry, permitting
them to kill two or three cubs, to get the young hounds
well blooded. But this is only half the object of cub-
hunting. The young foxes need educating as well as the
hounds. The first covert drawn is one where there is sure
to be a litter, and one object, so far as the young foxes are
concerned, is to bustle them about, so that when the regular
season opens and they hear hounds coming, they will break
covert quickly. No sportsman likes to hear of hounds
" chopping " a fox in covert. They desire to give him
plenty of law, a very generous start, and then catch him if
they can. It is not sport to take game at a disadvantage.
To the genuine sportsman it is something shocking to see
a man hunting rabbits with a ferret. The ferret is sent into
the burrow, out bolts the rabbit, and the gunner with a shot-
gun at the mouth of the hole blows the top of bunny's head
off. Or he gets some blank cartridges and a hundred feet
of fuse, fastens the fuse to a cartridge, and with a piece of
wire rams the cartridge in a burrow. Bang! goes the
cartridge, and out bolts the rabbit or fox to certain death.
Shame on the men who call this sport ! They are not
sportsmen, but butchers. Sportsmen of this calibre ought
to go home, rope an ox, draw him on the barn floor, and

OJ
Oh

(U

3
CQ

The Hound Puppy at Walk 187

knock him on the head with an axe. It would be the
same kind of thing. " Was the bird flying from you, or
across or toward you, when you hit it?" asks the father of
his son who comes running to him with his first partridge.
** He was sitting on the ground," repHes the delighted boy.
*' Sitting on the ground ! " roars his father. " Sitting on
the ground ! Never let me hear of your doing such an
unsportsmanlike thing again. Always give the bird a
chance, my boy. If he does n't get up, frighten him up.
Then, if you are clever enough to drop him, there is some
credit in the shot." Such should be one of any boy's first
lessons. But a great deal of this butcher business goes on
in America, for one reason or another. A man is not sat-
isfied to catch fish by the skilful throwing of a fly, but must
buy a net or explode a charge of dynamite in the bottom
of the pool, and pick up the murdered fish as they float to
the surface. And they call this sport !

But ware fish, author, ware fish ! and get on with your
fox. As I was saying, no fox-hunter likes mobbing a fox in
covert, and so it is necessary to give the youngsters a lesson
in breaking away. They start one fox out, give him a
good scare with hounds after him, and when he is well out
of covert they call off the hounds to bustle out some more.

No one has better described cub-hunting than Somer-
ville in *'The Chase," that epic of the hunt from which
we have already borrowed more than once to enrich our
own pictures :

Easy the lessons of the youthful train

When instinct prompts and when example guides.

If the too forward younker, at the head,

i88 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Press boldly on, in wanton, sportive mood.
Correct his haste, and let him feel, abash'd.
The ruling whip. But if he stoop behind,
In wary modest guise, to his own nose
Confiding sure, give him full scope to work
His winding way, and with thy voice applaud
His patience and his care ; soon shalt thou view
The hopeful pupil leader of his tribe.
While all the Hstening pack attend his call.

XVII
THE FOX

" The wily fox.
Safe in the increasing number of his foes.
Kens well the great advantage; shrinks behind.
And slily creeps through the same beaten track.
And hunts them step by step; then views, escaped.
With inward ecstasy, the panting throng
In their own footsteps puzzled, foiled, and lost."

SOMERVILLE

XVII
THE FOX

THE FOX COMPARED WITH OTHER GAME HUNTING THE WILD

RED DEER A PATHETIC END RENARD's CRAFTY NATURE

HE drag is but a mimicry of hunting, the crated
stag is but little better, the bag-fox an abomi-
nation savouring too much of the butcher.
Hare and otter-hunting are good, clean
sport. The hunting of the wild red deer in Devon and
of the wild stag and the wild boar in France are thoroughly
honourable and sportsmanlike. The woodcraft of the har-
bourer, the rare skill of the huntsman in singling out a
warrantable stag or hind, are a display of natural wit and
cunning beautiful to see. It is a glorious thing, riding to
staghounds, to note the wonderful instinct of the huntsman
in lifting them smartly on to the line when they are at
fault. But for every-day hunting there is nothing that
quite comes up to the chase of the wild fox.

There is never, in the chase after Renard, the feeling
that you are pursuing to its death a harmless and innocent
creature. The fox is a vagabond. If he was not at work
stealing your chickens last night, it was because he was steal-
ing your neighbour's, or came across a rabbit that diverted

191

192 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

him on the way to your coop. There is something of
retribution in his being killed. On the other hand, I shall
never recall without a shudder the death of the first hind
I saw taken by the Devon and Somerset staghounds.

She had given us a glorious run of fourteen or fifteen
miles to Bristol Channel, to which waters her instinct had
led her as the best way of escape from her pursuers. When
we arrived on the coast, at the point where the hind
had jumped over a steep precipice and taken to the sea, there
was a heavy fog resting on the waters, and the chase
seemed ended.

Presently, however, the fog lifted, and there, standing on
a rock a quarter of a mile or more to sea, was the hind,
the most beautiful picture I ever beheld. Over her hung
a canopy of mist; the surf of an incoming tide was break-
ing into the whitest foam at her feet. Steadily the tide
crept up on the rock where she stood, every succeeding
breaker increasing the depth of water about her. There
she stood like a stranded mariner, awaiting the death that
must ultimately overtake her. She began to look long-
ingly toward the shore and the frowning peaks of the
Quantock Hills, her home, to which she was never to
return. For a time her attention was called to the passing
of a ship not a quarter of a mile from where she stood,
curiosity for a moment absorbing her as she watched it
with forgetful interest. What a picture! More than an
hour we waited and watched, during which time the
hounds were taken out of sight. It was hoped she would
come to shore and make for the hills; but still she lingered,
with the incoming tide rising all about her, and huntsmen

The Fox 193

waiting for her on the banks. Now the waves reached
her body, and she looked startled and seemed to read her
doom in every succeeding billow. She made a move irreso-
lutely toward the shore, halted, and moved again. Care-
fully she felt her way down the slippery rock till finally the
sea closed over her back and she could be descried swim-
ming for shore. Reaching the beach, she walked out again
a bit to free herself from the breakers, and rested there for
ten or fifteen minutes longer. The huntsmen meanwhile,
with five or six couples of the most trusty hounds, went
down to the water some distance above her, with a view to
getting between her and the sea. She saw them coming,
but the cold March wind had evidently chilled her to the
marrow ; she moved with stifl^ened gait along the shore
until she came to a great boulder, behind which she stole
cautiously, and lay down in a pool of water left by the last
tide in a hollow of the rocks. A moment later the hounds
hit ofif her trail, and in another instant the lot of them were
upon her.

To me, unaccustomed as I was, it gave a sickening feel-
ing, despite its novelty and interest. I can best express
myself in the characteristic language of an American girl
after her first ride down the great toboggan slide at Mon-
treal. "'I would n't have missed it for a thousand dollars,"
she said, '* but I would n't go through it again for two thou-
sand." Perhaps there is nothing like getting used to a
thing; perhaps if I hunted year after year with these
famous hounds I should become hardened to such specta-
cles; perhaps the wild red deer, killed by these hounds to
the number of one hundred every season, become at last.

194 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

like the old lady's eels, accustomed to being skinned. But
I have had several days with these hounds since that first
one, and somehow I doubt it.

Let us hark back to our fox, that cunning, evasive thief
of the night. Any one can see him broken with little
feeling of compassion, knowing that the untimely death of
Mrs. Farmer's goslings has been avenged. As he hunts
the hare and the rabbit, he has no reason to complain if he
is hunted too. What is more, he is not a good sportsman.
He pounces upon his prey by stealth, while for him hounds
are kept back to give him a good start, and the music of
their cries, the shouts of the huntsmen, the clatter of the
galloping steeds, all leave him less and less excuse to say that
he has not been fairly dealt with. He usually gets away on
an even footing, and has about even chances of saving his
brush for another day. There are, indeed, always a few old
ringers in every hunt country that ^eem to welcome the
coming of the clamourous pack as if it were a game of
hide-and-seek or blindman's-buff. But most of them are
sly. When you see one sneaking along a fence after play-
ing a clever trick on the hounds, you have an eager desire to
run the rascal down. No, there is an indescribable some-
thing about the pursuit of a fox that fires the blood of a
hunting man as does that of no other game. Shooting
partridge, quail, or pheasants over a couple of well-trained
pointers is very keen sport, I allow. Wild-turkey shooting
in Michigan, going after wild ducks and geese in New
Brunswick, stalking deer in Maine or caribou and moose in
Nova Scotia, are most thrilling. But none of these animals
make you want to get at them so badly, or rather I might

^

■Li

O

The Fox 195

better say so madly, as the fox. Every hunting man feels
this, but words to express the feeling fully are yet to be
invented. Some men who are as steady as a church at
bird or big game shooting fairly lose themselves at the
sight of a travelling fox. There is something about his
stealthy way of going, as if he were a thief, something
about his whole carriage, that proclaims the rogue and
makes men shout themselves hoarse and ache to throw
their hunting-crops or hats at him. They will ride their
best hunter nearly to death to keep in sight of him. All
this, however, is lost with a bag-fox; and, as some one has
pointed out, none of it at all would arise at the sight of a
fox chained to a stake in some one's yard. But directly
hounds give tongue in a genuine hunt, your spirits are up
and your interest grows apace in the game. For every
card the rascal plays you know, so to speak, he has still an
ace or a king up his sleeve. A glimpse is had of the sly
little devil as he moves along in a furrow, casting his eyes
behind him with the cold, calculating glance of a money-
lender. " There he goes, damn him ! " cries the deacon of
the First Baptist Church, who was never known to swear
before, — and did not know he did then, — as he puts spurs
to his horse and races after as if he were running down a
desperado.

It is undoubtedly true that the greatest zeal for fox-
hunting, as in other kinds of hunting, comes from a
knowledge of the animal hunted, and is increased by a
study of his ways. It always seems to me that men who
hunt to ride miss this point and the spirit of the chase al-
together. Their pleasure consists in outriding the field.

196 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

and if they fail in this they go home disappointed. Not
so the hunting man. His heart is in the game. Those
who hunt to ride may as well follow a drag or ride a
steeplechase. The hunting man has all this pleasure, and
the enjoyment of the hunting as well. Pardon my recur-
ring so often to this point. I am only anxious to give the
novice a start right, which is not likely to be the case unless
he is quite familiar with the game. It will not be amiss,
therefore, to devote a little more space in the next chapter
to " The Fox and his Ways."

XVIII

THE FOX AND HIS WAYS

"The farmer, who beholds his mortal foe
Stretch'd at his feet, applauds the glorious deed.
And, grateful, calls us to a short repast:
In the full glass the liquid amber smiles.
Our native product; and his good old mate
With choicest viands heaps the liberal board."

SOMERVILLE

XVIII
THE FOX AND HIS WAYS

BREEDING SEASON FIRST LESSONS IN CRAFT CUNNING WHAT

THE EARTH-STOPPER SAYS WHAT THE FARMER

AND HIS WIFE SAY

[HE fox's mating season in America varies
somewhat according to latitude. January is
in most regions the month for courting. In
these days the dog-foxes travel great distances
with a view to finding a vixen in every way worthy to
become the mother of the most crafty foxes that ever lived.
The general belle and favourite, no doubt, is she who has
the best record for fooling the hounds. The most success-
ful chicken-thief comes next, perhaps, in popularity.

Simpson, the earth-stopper, says the cry of the vixen at
this season is something to make even " an old stager like
me creep all over, so weird and human-like is the sound."
It is sure to remind Simpson, as does everything else you
may mention, of the battle of Gettysburg.

The vixen is with cub only nine weeks, and has but
one litter a year. About the first of April there is many a
happy fox-mother. April Fools' Day is the appropriate
day when cubs are apt to come into the world, which

199

2 00 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

perhaps accounts for the fooHng prochvities of the Re-
nard family.

If hounds break cover with a vixen during these domes-
tic affairs of the fox family after, say, the middle of
January, they are called off, and madame from that time
on is shown every consideration. She gets a bit of an
ousting now and then until her sex is discovered, and this
is no doubt very good for the future generation, for their
mothers may thus be able to transmit a bit of instinc-
tive knowledge about foxhounds that the foxes of an
earlier generation had to learn by hard experience. There
has been considerable discussion among hunting men as to
whether foxes are keener game now than they were forty
or fifty years ago. A comparison of the number killed
and of the length of runs would indicate that they are not.
We must consider, however, that foxhounds have steadily
improved, and horses as well, so that it need not follow
from statistics that foxes have lost their cunning. On the
contrary, they, as well as the hounds, are likely to have
grown in stoutness and stamina.

Now come the planning and arrangement of the new
home. In the course of time a suitable lying-in room is
arranged on the ground floor, which apartment madame
arranges to suit herself. It is said that a vixen gives birth
to her cubs outside of the earth, and then moves in, bag and
baggage. Her lord and master basks in the sun on a
southern exposure of the covert by day, but at night goes
forth to replenish the larder, leaving madame to devote her
time to her household duties and prepare for the coming
event.

The Fox and his Ways 201

Hounds are said not to follow a vixen heavy with cub.
Perhaps it is a certain sportsmanlike instinct among wild
animals that prevents their killing their prey under such
circumstances. One explanation is that the scent left by
expectant mothers is too weak to be followed, or changes
so as to be no longer recognisable. In either case a wise
provision of nature seems to interfere in their behalf. I
believe I have seen it somewhere recorded that hounds, if
they come upon a vixen heavy with cub, will, of their own
free will, not break her. I have either been told or
have read of instances where hounds, having overtaken and
killed their fox, but finding it a vixen heavy with cub,
have left it alone, and have been found lying about the
corpse with no apparent eagerness to taste her blood. I
quote also the following from Thomas Smith's charming
book " The Life of a Fox as Told by a Fox " : " I heard
the hounds running a fox close to me, which they very
soon lost, as they could not or would not hunt it. I thought
this very strange, as by the use of my nose I knew it was a
good scenting day ; but it turned out that the fox was a
vixen who had just laid up her cubs, the effect of which
generally is to make the scent so different that hounds, old
ones particularly, appear to know it as if by instinct and
will not hunt it."

One fine day madame sends her husband to a human neigh-
bour's where, she tells him, he will find a nice fat turkey
that Mrs. Farmer has neglected to lock up for the night.
This is simply a joke, and the unsuspicious husband, when
he returns, finds a surprise for him. Four, six, or even
eight cubs have come to " bless the union " of himself and

20 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

his spouse, as the old-time biographers would say. They
have been left in the earth by a passing angel, madame
explains. Her husband forgets the scolding he had pre-
pared for her for sending him on a fool's errand, and goes
off and kills a farmer's lamb to celebrate the event. The
good Lord keeps the cubbies' eyes darkened for ten days, or
they might wander away from the fireside and perish, and
madame has stored up a good supply of fat on her own body,
from whence her babies may draw should the larder run
low. The same over-ruling Providence, as Mr. Thomas
Smith's fox points out, brings the family into the world at
a season of the year when their favourite food, young rab-
bits and beetles, is most abundant. Not only is no vixen
ever hunted in these days, but some huntsmen maintain
that no dog-fox should be hunted after the first of April, as
madame needs him to do odd chores about the house and
assist in keeping the supply of food sufficient for the increas-
ing wants of the family.

It is generally believed that the dog-fox may be distin-
guished from the vixen by the white tip on the end of his
brush. The fox above quoted says this is not an infallible
sign, however. " I, a dog-fox," he says, " and one of my
brothers, and also one of my sisters, had it [the white tip],
whilst the other sister and the other brother were alto-
gether without it, not having a single white hair. My
brother has been known to profit by the exception when
on being viewed in the spring of the year the hounds have
been stopped with the remark, ' It is a vixen ; there is no
white in her brush.' I have since observed that old male
foxes are of a much lighter colour on the back than are

The Fox and his Ways 203

the old females, which are commonly of a dark reddish
brown."

The white tip on a vixen, I believe, is the exception to
the rule, but, however that may be, the ladies are easily
distinguished — if you can get near enough to note — by
their size and especially by their more sharply pointed
noses. The question of colour, especially of shade, is a
very uncertain one ; it not only varies in the same litter,
but, to some extent, with the change of coat and season.

Soon after the cubs' eyes open, they are brought to the
mouth of the earth and given their first lessons in diving
back into this harbour of safety at the slightest noise.
Later, if the earth is in any way disturbed, they are moved
usually some distance away, and after that are kennelled
out of doors. They are carried by the mother just as a
domestic cat moves her kittens, one at a time, lifted by the
nape of the neck. In this way a vixen will sometimes
move a whole family several miles during a single night.
Beetles and mice and later a young rabbit are brought in,
which mother proceeds to break in truly workmanlike
manner, dividing quite fairly. Simpson, the earth-stopper,
tells me madame is very particular in these divisions of her
spoil, never taking a mouthful of it herself, but devoting
all her time and energy to teaching etiquette to her family.
Such a meal is generally consumed at some little distance
from the home. The cubs, who have been waiting and
playing about the earth until their mother's return, at a
call from her rush away to meet her, and are then, perhaps,
taken still farther away to some secluded spot that she
knows of, before the fare is served. On no account must a

204 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

bit of fur or feather be found about the earth. Gypsies
are not more careful of observing this rule than a vixen-
fox. After a meal of this sort the brood go back to the
mouth of the earth, and top off their dinner with a dessert
from the maternal store, madame looking proudly on while
they frolic and play about her, darting into the earth now
and again at some real or imaginary noise.

The amount of assistance madame gets from her hus-
band these days is a matter much disputed. Some earth-
stoppers maintain that he gives none whatever ; others, like
Simpson, that she is much assisted by the " old man ";
and if vixen is killed, Simpson declares, he takes up her
household duties as well as he can.

Cannon, an earth-stopper to the Quorn Hunt, with
whom I once had a night tramp, says foxes are not so
wicked as they are painted. " It is," he says, " only when
the master of a family has been killed, and madame is
unfortunate in hunting rabbits, and becomes desperate and
reckless of her own safety, that she resorts to stealing poul-
try and young lambs." This view seems rather extreme.
But possibly the diversity of opinion among earth-stoppers
and hunting men is owing to the fact that there are foxes
and foxes. One thing is certain : sometimes they will take
away a single lamb or hen, and again they will kill twenty
hens in a single night, hardly tasting their flesh. This, the
earth-stopper says, is the work of a dog-fox who is out for
a lark and not to satisfy hunger. Simpson declares that a
fox never steals a chicken or a lamb from the farmer on
whose farm the earth is laid, but will go a long distance
from home to the neighbourhood of some other fox, who

The Fox and his Ways 205

he is quite willing should be trapped or shot for the
offence. Some things one hears from earth-stoppers are
quite suggestive of fairy-tales, but the cunning of a fox is
so well understood that it is quite easy to believe almost
anything.

That the fox tracks rabbits by scent, as he himself
is tracked by the hounds, is shown by following both
their tracks over wet and muddy fallows or on snow. It is
from the rabbit, perhaps, that the fox learns many a trick,
for a rabbit can give even a fox points in dodging. If you
wish to see the prettiest exhibition of hound work in the
world, you should watch a pack of harriers or beagles fol-
lowing the line of puss. The proverbial Chinese puzzle is
easy in comparison.

Of course no farmer with any self-respect would shoot
or trap a fox in a hunting country; on the contrary,
farmers are very proud of having a litter of cubs laid
upon their farms, and do all they can to protect them and
see that they are not disturbed. Every earth in a hunt-
ing district is known to the earth-stopper, and if a litter of
foxes known to have been laid on a certain farm is not
found there at cub-hunting time, it is a humiliating state of
things to the farmer who values the good opinion of the
county. When such things do happen in England, the
owner of the covert not at all infrequently sends to London
and buys a fox or two to turn loose in his covert just be-
fore they are to be drawn. Nothing could cause a farmer
more chagrin than the finding of a trap on his farm.
Altogether the fox is the most favoured and pampered wild
animal on the farm.

2o6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Once when I was visiting my friend Mr. R. Kirkham in
Lincolnshire, he took me one day back on his farm to see
a Htter of cubs that he was very proud of. He was afraid,
however, the vixen was not a good milker, for the cubs did
not seem to be doing as well as he thought they should.
Perhaps, he added, Mrs. Fox may have been left a widow ;
so we took with us a basin of chicken bones and scraps
of meat, and left them at the poor vixen's door.

" I don't want to do this sort of thing too much," he
said apologetically, probably because the pan was not full.
" It won't do to encourage idleness, you know. Foxes, to
be kept in good health, must have work. Besides, I want
them to be very fit when the hunting season opens, so as to
give us the run of the season."

Such are the sentiments of an English tenant-farmer,
who seldom rides to hounds himself but who is the ri^ht
sort nevertheless. Mr. Kirkham gives a most interesting
account of the habits of foxes ; he has evidently spent con-
siderable time in looking after the widows.

"I often come up here to see how they are getting on,"
he says, "and sometimes I am able to steal up and get a
sight of them playing about the earth like a lot of kittens.
One will pretend to be dead. He lies stretched out, ap-
parently cold and stiff as a corpse, and with his eyes closed,
though I think he keeps them a wee crack open. The
breeze plays with his hair, and altogether there never was an
act done truer to life, or, I should say, death. Seeing this,
another cub approaches cautiously, when up springs the
dead one, and the pair clinch and roll over in a good-
natured wrestling match. This is only the rehearsal of the

f.~

o
o

The Fox and his Ways 207

way in which they will afterward fool some silly old
goose whose curiosity gets the better of her judgment. Then
they will chase each other. The leader, springing to one
side, lies flat until the other, unprepared for the dodge,
rushes past, and the pursued rushes back to the earth. This
is their trump trick, and the one that more than any other
saves their lives when pressed by hounds. As the cubs get
a little older, Madame Fox takes one or two at a time with
her on a hunting expedition. She seems to think her years
of practical experience are necessary to the young things,
and doubtless they are of great value."

In such ways the cubs grow more and more wily and
schooled in all the tricks and craft in which as a family no
other quadruped is their equal. It would require pages to
record all their cunning in pursuit of their game. Later
we shall attempt to show other examples of their clever-
ness in the tricks they play upon the hounds and the strata-
gem of the huntsmen in circumventing them. Like chess,
hunting the fox is a deep game, and it requires a clear head
and years of experience in woodcraft to play it well.

Discoursing of the fox and his ways, Mr. Kirkham and I
returned to the house late to dinner. Upon my host's
apologising and madame's learning what had detained us, I
was amused by the good-natured sparring match that
sprang up between them on the same old subject.

"Well," began Mrs. Kirkham, "if I wasted as much
time as you do looking after that vixen and her cubs, I
should never expect to get any dinner. Here 's dinner
now, nearly spoiled."

Her husband turned to me with a sly look in his eyes.

2o8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

" But if you will raise foxhound puppies," he replied,
" I must provide them with something to do when they are
grown. You know it costs more to raise a couple of fox-
hound puppies than half a dozen Lincoln sheep, and if you
take into account what they destroy I might say a dozen.
Now, foxes," declared my host, "are not nearly so expensive
a luxury."

"Are n't they, though? As I get the proceeds of the
poultry, perhaps I ought to know. Don't you mind how
they killed my best prize-winning silver dorking cock last
year, that I refused five pounds for at the Royal Show } "

"That was n't the fox's fault. What can you expect
when you don't properly lock up your cocks for the night ?
Besides, I don't believe a fox killed your bird at all. It
must have been a skunk or a weasel did it. My feeding
the cubs occasionally is only a safeguard against their steal-
ing your chickens."

" Well," retorted madame, whom her husband in courtesy,
like the sportsman he is, permitted to have the last word,
" if you rear foxes on the farm, I must grow the hounds
to kill them."

This brought the argument to a standstill, with honours
easy and neither party to the dispute perhaps essentially
dissatisfied.

XIX
SCENT

"To ev'ry shrub the warm effluvia cling.
Hang on the grass, impregnate earth and skies.
With nostrils op'ning wide, o'er hill, o'er dale.
The vig'rous hounds pursue, with ev'ry breath
Inhale the grateful steam; quick pleasures sting
Their tingling nerves, while they their thanks repay.
And in triumphant melody confess
The titillating joy."

SOMERVILLE

XIX

SCENT

SOME THEORIES COMPARED FONDNESS OF HOUNDS FOR THE

TRAIL HOUND MUSIC AND A NOVICE

F all the vexed questions pertaining to the
chase of wild game, that of scent, "that
weary, incomprehensible, uncontrollable phe-
nomenon, consistent only in its inconsistency/'
as Jorocks puts it, is the most puzzling. I shall not
attempt to enter into a full discussion of this most interest-
ing problem, but content myself with stating a few well-
established facts, and leave the reader to work out the riddle
as best he can. It will be found a good subject to occupy
his mind during a long ride home. But I give him fair
warning that the hypothesis he sets up to-day to his entire
satisfaction is likely to fall like a card house at the very
next run or before the attack of some one who is further
along in the study.

I believe, however, all theorists sooner or later come to
acknowledge that certain conditions of the atmosphere
seem to favour the lasting qualities of the scent, though in
some way that makes barometers or thermometers unsatis-
factory guides. The breaking of a frost, the evaporation

2 12 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

of the dew, is thought to take with it the line of the hunted
game. A porous or sandy soil is believed to absorb it. The
scent itself is thought by some theorists to be left by the
feet, by others to come principally from the body, while
still another school says it comes from both.

All agree, also, I believe, that a sleeping fox gives little
or no scent, that if he keeps still in covert, as he some-
times does, hounds can and do run over and all about him
without detecting his presence. Again, if he has gone in a
leisurely way out of covert just before hounds arrive, it is
with difficulty that they are able to own the line, even on a
good scenting day. It is during this first part of nearly
every run that a clever huntsman urges on his pack as
fast as ever he can and still keep their noses down ; that is
to say, as fast as he can just short of lifting them forward.
His idea is to get them on good terms with their fox and
that particular one as quickly as possible.

That under favourable conditions scent improves or
grows stronger as the chase of the heated fox progresses,
and dies down or weakens when the fox becomes exhausted,
is also clear. Many a sinking fox but a few yards ahead
of the hounds saves his brush because hounds are no longer
able to follow the line. It has, indeed, been noticed that
some of the older hounds begin driving to the front the
moment they detect this weakening of the scent. Expe-
rience has taught them that the end is near, while younger
hounds lose interest because the sensation is now less stim-
ulating to their olfactory nerves. This is so established
that when old experienced hounds from going in the mid-
dle or rear of the pack make a dive to the front, it is taken

Scent 213

as a signal that the game is almost up, and knowing riders
put on more steam to be the first in at the death.

Particular foxes have particular odours of their own,
stronger in some than in others, probably owing to their
physical condition or the state of their health. If this
were not so, hounds would be always changing foxes. The
more experienced hounds have learned that it is best to
stick to the fox they started with, whether his scent be
strong or weak, and the huntsman uses the greatest care to
see that the pack does not change. The younger members
have this to learn. When they are seen to drive ahead
while the older hounds check, the huntsman knows for a
certainty almost that they have changed foxes. The
whipper-in rushes to the heads of the youngsters to turn
them back, while the elders stick to the original fox.
This they are able to do even if the latter's line crosses a
dozen fresh lines, some of them much stronger, perhaps,
than the one first followed. That it is desirable to keep
to the one fox is obvious.

That scent is good or bad largely owing to the condition
of the atmosphere is a point on which nearly every one
agrees. At the same time, it seems due not to any condi-
tion registered by barometer or thermometer, but to some
element pervading all ether, else a passing current of air
would dispel it. One often sees hounds racing to a line
that has half a gale of wind blowing across it, or, on a still
day when hardly a leaf is stirring, unable to follow when
the fox is not ten rods away. That the coarser particles
which make the scent may be blown away on the air, no
one can doubt ; there must nevertheless be some property

2 14 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

of them which remains. Of course a dry, hot day, a parched
pasture, a hot sun, is bad for scent. In a way, the action
of scent is not unlike that of smoke or steam. On certain
days a locomotive leaves a trail of steam or smoke that
ascends quickly to the upper air ; again, one that descends
as quickly to the earth, or hangs evenly in mid-air just
above its point of issue. On some days steam vanishes
from view directly upon leaving the mouth of the stack ;
again, it leaves a white path a quarter of a mile long in the
wake of the train. All these different aspects are doubtless
owing to some atmospheric influence, and just so it seems
to be with the scent of a fox — sometimes rising quickly, as
it does, sometimes clinging to the grass and bushes for
yards on either side of the line, or hanging slightly above
the earth so that the hounds instead of stooping to it race
away with heads up and sterns down, running, as the say-
ing is, with " scent breast-high." Sometimes it is spread
so wide to right or left of a line that every hound in the
pack, although running rods to either side of the line, can
"feel" it.

That scent does not come from pads alone is evident from
the ability of hounds to follow it a long distance in water-
soaked ground where the fox has had to wade, or across a
wide stream which the fox has had to swim, the water
through which he swam having moved downward with the
current. It happens that scent will be good in one field
and bad in the next, one being sheltered by a piece of wood,
the other not. Conditions of the atmosphere of one field
may not exist in the next. That bare ground and fallow
land are not usually so good as grass and stubble is accounted

Scent 215

for by the fact that the particles of effluvia left behind by
the fox, if they settle, have not so much to cling to. The
" working," as the farmers call it, of a newly ploughed
field may cause chemical action there that absorbs or dis-
pels scent, and yet again such land sometimes carries the
scent beautifully, even across a dusty highway. Others
believe a sandy soil absorbs scent, but I have little faith in
this theory. The scent more likely goes the other way,
on heat waves caused by rapid radiation, for if absorbed by
sandy or porous soil the particles would adhere to the soil,
and make the line, if anything, plainer than it is on a hard
clay, in which as a matter of fact scent is generally better.
Clay ground is believed to hold a scent longer than sand
or loam, and probably does, because evaporation is less than
on sand. But enough of this : I meant only to advance a
few theories to set one thinking upon this ever-interesting
topic.

Still another peculiarity of scent is the hounds' extraor-
dinary fondness for it. Disagreeable as the odour is to
man, hounds seem ever more keen to follow a fox's line
than to break the fox himself. The huntsman has gen-
erally little trouble to secure a fox from the hounds after
they have killed him ; at least, hounds never seem so eager
to make away with him as one would expect from the
greediness with which they pursued his line. Judging
from their actions in covert, the first nostrilful of the
scent fairly intoxicates them. Their sterns lash, and each
particular hair on their backs stands on end. They raise
their heads and throw their tongues with a clamourous yell
of delight that fairly sets them back on their haunches. If

2i6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the line is faint they can hardly contain themselves, and
whimper and cry like children with disappointment. Here
indeed is one of the severest tests of a hound's truthfulness.
Sometimes his imagination runs away with his judgment,
and away goes his tongue. The other hounds leave their
work and rush to the babbler's side, but fail to confirm him.
The disgusted expression a hound shows at such a false
alarm is something almost human. He comes on a run,
cropping his head for a taste ; but when the mistake is dis-
covered, his whole countenance changes and he stalks away
disgusted. The huntsman meanwhile has his eye on the
babbler. Once or twice more of this sort of lying, and the
deceiver's days are numbered.

The other hounds, fooled once or twice, pay no further
attention to him, even if he speak the truth. But let one
of the old hounds proclaim the news, and instantly every
hound is at his side.

"That 's old Bluebells!" cries the major, as he and his
knowing old horse Friar both eagerly listen for a whim-
per. "That 's old Bluebells! There is a fox on foot,
that 's sure. I 'd take that old bitch's word for a million."
And he charges on around the covert where his black-and-
tan beauties have set their fox on foot.

It is a beautiful and stirring sight to watch twenty-odd
couple of well-bred, perfectly schooled foxhounds when
drawing a covert. How they fling themselves here, rush
there, now in a bunch with heads down and sterns waving
wildly as if a tornado had struck them, now scattered, one
running straight ahead for a rod, to stop suddenly and cast

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Scent 217

back! ''Edawick, Edawick!" shouts the huntsman, or, to
encourage them to draw, seeing some of them inclined to
speak, he cheers them on with *'Rout him out! Rout him
out ! Rouse him, my beauties ! Out with him, every-
body!" And at it they go, more desperate than ever.

Forrester charges at a clump of bushes, and begins wav-
ing his stern like a soldier at signal drill. The huntsman
keeps his eye on him, for he is a very clever hound at
finding. He gives a whimper ; his hackles are up.
*' Speak to it, Forrester! Speak to it, good boy." But
Forrester will not lie, even to please the huntsman. In the
meantime Bluebells, seeing Forrester about to speak, rushes
past him, stoops to the line to make doubly sure, braces her-
self, lifts her head, and with one exultant cry of joy pro-
claims the find. The huntsman, cap in hand, cheers on
the pack again with " Hark to Bluebells, hark to Bluebells," as
she bounds away, joined by all the pack, who confirm her
proclamation in one joyous chorus that makes the forest
ring for miles around.

Yes, it is a stirring sight, one to make a hunting man's
blood tingle to his finger-tips. Your true hunting man
wonders how through it all some men can sit their horses
and yawn and look bored, as wooden as a cigar-shop
Indian with the whole block on fire behind him. Is our
civilisation making women of us, that we no longer feel
the sportsman's fire ?

I pity a man who can look upon a sight like this
and see nothing, or hear such thrilling music and ask, as I
heard a man ask of a member of the Genesee Valley

2i8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Hunt: "Ah, what are the dogs barking at, do you think ?"
— to which the member, whose ready tongue never misses
fire, replied :

" Got a squirrel up a tree ; you will see him come down
in a minute."

" Ah, fancy ! How can they ever expect to catch a
fox if the dogs make such a noise about it?"

XX

FARMERS AND CITY MEN

" The farmer in front on a bonny grey mare

Is sailing along in the van ;
He tackles his fences with plenty to spare.
And trusts to the mettle that comes from Kildare,

This sportsman who rides like a man."

POEMS IN PINK

XX
FARMERS AND CITY MEN

OBLIGATIONS OF HUNTING MEN TO FARMERS FARMERS* COMPEN-
SATION AND DAMAGES CITY MEN IN THE COUNTRY SNOBS

MAN may have the best hunter money can
buy, the latest thing in hunting-togs and sad-
dle equipments, hounds with the best noses in
the world and the most "heavenly music";
but he cannot ride across a farmer's field except with the
farmer's consent, given or implied.

Hunting men, especially city men, seldom appreciate the
obligations the hunt is under to the farmers whose land
they ride over. In the city signs of " Keep off the grass "
or "No trespassing" are instinctively obeyed ; but let a man
come down into the Genesee Valley, not alone and on
foot, but with forty, fifty, or seventy men on horses, and go
galloping across a farmer's meadows, and it is taken as a
matter of course. The sportsmen think, perhaps, if they
think at all: "Oh, the farmer sells his oats and hay and
raises hunters which we buy at long prices. He ought not
to complain." Surely one has heard some hunting man
say this. They should be advised, however, never to repeat
it ; for one thing, because the supposed compensation to the

221

22 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

farmers does not amount to enough in a year to be worth
mentioning. It is a basin of very old chaff; — small won-
der the farmer only smiles sceptically but is never really
appeased by such veritable nonsense.

So many writers on hunting have repeated this sort of
thing so often that they have come to believe it. Their
wishes are fathers to their theories. Yet it is a false doctrine
which one should wish to see set right.

Can they mean to say that if hunting men did not move
into a country the farmer would have no market for his
crops ?

" Of course not ; but there is the sale of his hunters,"
they contend.

And are there no other animals he can raise ? Is there
no other market for hunters ? Is theirs the only club on
earth ? They talk as if the farmer would starve if it were
not for the sale of his products to hunting men. When
they say the farmer ought to welcome the hunting men
across his fields for what he gets out of the hunt, they insult
his intelligence. Where do the hunting men buy their
hay ? Nine out of ten buy of the dealer in town. Their
oats are ordered by telephone, and may never have seen the
farmer's lands which the buyers hunt over. Nor is the
hunting season the only time when the farmer can sell oats.
As for hunters, nine out of ten are picked up by the dealers,
who buy them, perhaps, for scarcely fifty dollars more than
they would have had to pay for a farm-horse, no more than
they would have to pay for a good coach or standard bred
horse. No ; all this talk about the farmers' compen-
sation is only another instance of the parrot talk with

Farmers and City Men 223

which we become famiUar in the course of a hunting
career.

It is not for any imagined increase of revenue that the
farmer allows the hunt to cross his lands, protects a litter
of foxes in his fields, or takes mischievous puppies to walk.
The foxes or the puppies alone cost him more every year
than what he gets out of the hunting men over and above
the regular price of farm products. A fox will kill per-
haps twenty head of poultry in a single night. A hound
puppy may destroy a twenty-dollar lap-robe in twenty
minutes. The huntsmen smash his fence and leave his
gates open, so that he and his men have to spend the rest
of the day and half of the night, perhaps, looking for stray
cattle or sheep. What compensation is it, what consola-
tion, for the farmer to be told that he may get a cent or
two more a bushel for a hundred bushels of oats, when the
riders racing across his meadows frighten his cows so that
the shrinkage in the flow of milk amounts to dollars ?
What is to pay him for the premature birth of the calf from
his best cow, or of the lambs from the ewe that was raced
into the corner of the pasture ? It is his big heart, not his
hope of small pennies, that makes him endure all this.

To be sure, there is supposed to be compensation for
damages from the hunt ; but not one farmer in ten, in
America at least, ever demands it. No one outside of the
farmer's family or the visiting neighbour ever knows of
the damage. The Master himself, who knows a good deal,
never hears the half, because farmers do not like to com-
plain of amounts that are trifling, and keep still even
when they may feel aggrieved and have met with serious

2 24 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

injury to property. Mr. Austin Wadsworth, M.F.H., of
the Genesee Valley Hunt, once told me that during the
number of years he had been Master there he had paid out
only a small sum, all told, for damages. No; hunting men
are permitted to ride over farms because the farmer likes
to see them enjoy themselves ; even if he cannot afford to
keep a hunter or take a half-holiday himself, he bids them
welcome.

Few city men appreciate this welcome. Reverse the
case and it would be another story. Suppose the owner of
a furniture-shop in town had forty or fifty roughshod
farmers periodically rushing through his shop, kicking over
chairs, breaking mirrors, leaving the door of the varnish-
room open till a cloud of dust made the new work to do
all over again — how much comforted would he be to
have them say they might buy a rocking-chair or two,
and tell him he ought to welcome such good patrons and
not be grumbling? The debt the hunters owe the farmers
whose land they ride over is one of gratitude, and can
never be reduced to figures. They pay a thousand dollars
apiece for their hunters, a hundred for their hunting-suits,
three cents a mile to the railway company to journey to
the valley, and dollars or pennies to hotels, servants, or
grooms. Every bill they owe, little or big, they pay to the
last penny, or ought to ; but none pays the farmer, directly
or indirectly, for riding roughshod across his fields. It is
really too bad to spout that musty speech about the farmer's
pecuniary advantage from the hunt. One should rather
speak out like a sportsman and own the debt ; for, although
he cannot square accounts, he can at least have a care.

Farmers and City Men 225

If not in coin of the realm, at least in courtesy the debt
may be recognised. It is surprising to see how chary of
thanks some city men are to their country creditors. Some
of these are members of the hunt, they or their sons or both ;
yet how does the city man treat them when he meets them
in the hunting-field } Many times as if they were beneath
his notice. Such discourtesy is intolerable. City men who
go into the country should do their best to prevent such
snobbishness. Even if they do not care a toss of their
heads for the feelings of the farmers or their own reputa-
tion among them, they should think of the Master, and for
his sake make an effort to treat the country members of
the hunt with gentlemanly consideration. Nothing they
could do would please him better, unless it were refraining
from riding on top of his hounds. A true sportsman, however
unskilled at a game, is first of all a gentleman ; the two
terms should be synonymous. Your true sportsman and gen-
tleman observes the golden rule. Youthful members of
the hunt especially should look to it that they admire the
proficiency of a fellow-hunter rather than his dress. They
will often find that some of the best and keenest sportsmen
wear old clothes, that some of the best horsemen ride long-
tailed horses and wear slouched hats, that a man with the
best seat and the best hands sometimes goes with a toggled
bridle and rusty saddle-irons, but is

A rider unequalled, a sportsman complete,
A rum one to follow, and a bad one to beat.

They should remember, in short, that as a rule farmers
and farmers' sons know more about the art and science of

2 26 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

fox-hunting than many of the men who dress and feel
above them.

I must confess, too, there is more snobbishness displayed
in the hunting-jBeld in America than among the most
fashionable packs in England. One great charm of hunt-
ing in England is the entire absence of snobbishness. Dukes
and farmers, lords and merchants, meet for the day on one
common level. Riding to covert you will see a former
prime minister talking pleasantly to a tenant-farmer, a
wealthy duke chatting with a horse-dealer, an illustrious
knight asking the village cobbler for a match. I believe
some townsmen in America would faint away if a farmer
should ask them the time o' day. But an English gentleman
sportsman is the most gentlemanly gentleman in the world,
and perfect absence of snobbishness is one of his char-
acteristics.

Edward VII, the present King of England, is, and as
Prince of Wales was, a lesson and example in this respect to
all snobs. If ever there was a genuine sportsman, His
Majesty is one. He goes in for breeding pure-bred cattle
and sheep, and his stock is seen at all the leading shows and
fairs in England, competing for prizes against the country
tenant-farmers. Neither King Edward nor the late Queen,
who was also a keen breeder and exhibitor, ever exhibited
anything except what was bred and reared on their own
farms. They could have sent about the country to buy up
a lot of prize-winners if they had wished, but their sports-
manship forbade such taking advantage of their competitors.
The King's stock, sent to any fair, receives the same treat-
ment as that of the farmer : is kept in the same stalls ; and in

Farmers and City Men 227

the same ring, under the same conditions, wins or loses.
It is no infrequent sight to see the King, as I saw him at the
Royal Agricultural Show at York, go into an enclosure
where fifty shepherds and farmers stand holding as many
rams for his inspection, nor find it beneath his dignity to
shake hands with tenant-farmers, to give a smile and a nod
to a lad who has his hands full keeping a refractory ram in
position, or a "thank you" to some old weather-beaten
shepherd who holds a sheep while the King parts the
wool to inspect the quality. It is said, and I can well be-
lieve, that His Royal Highness, as he was till recently, never
looked so much a man as the day he placed himself on a
level with the humblest competitors in the contest for
prizes, and walked among them afterward, not as a prince,
but as a farmer. One need not marvel at his great popu-
larity, or seek long to discover what makes him one of the
best-liked men in England. It is because the instincts of
true sportsmanship direct every act

Lastly, I might add that the talented author of" Poems in
Pink" agrees with me on this score of snobbishness, for he
writes :

Leave us the chase, where, in harmony blending,

Men of all classes ride on to the end.
Men become brothers, each brother contending ;

Every true sportsman is counted a fi-iend.

I

XXI
THE LADY RIDER

** Methinks I can see them — the mare she was riding.
As bold as a lion, as meek as a dove;
The hunter so tame in the hand that was guiding
Its movements with kindness, its mettle with love."

POEMS IN PINK

XXI
THE LADY RIDER

HER POSITION IN THE FIELD HER HORSEMANSHIP HER

COURAGE AND RESOLUTION A FAMOUS RIDER

|OST men, and at any rate all true sportsmen,
agree in paying to the women of their race
a chivalrous respect, constituting themselves
at all times helping hands in little things and
champions in great. There can be no rule without an
exception, however, and the exception to the rule of
romantic chivalry occurs when men and women meet in
the way of business or on the hunting-field. When a
woman enters business as a competitor with man, she puts
herself on his level, and should, and in many cases does,
expect him to treat her with neither more nor less consid-
eration than he would show another man. She is in the
game and takes her chances. It would be unsportsman-
like not to treat her in every way as an equal. If she
loses at cards, a man should not, because she is a woman,
count only three points against her when she has lost five ;
if she backs the wrong horse she should pay every farthing ;
and when she rides out to take her chances with men in
the chase, she plays a game as truly as if she played bil-

231

232 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

liards or cards. She understands that she is on the same
footing with the other members, regardless of sex, and
if she is the thorough sportsman which she often is in these
days, she expects no favours, and men need not feel under
obligations to give her any more attention or assistance than
if she were one of themselves.

Precisely the difficulty with ladies in the hunting-field,
however, is that men cannot seem to rid themselves of this
notion of their devoirs. If a lady is just behind at a gap,
for instance, they must halt and let her pass first. This is
wrong in the end. They wrong themselves, and make her
feel at last that she is a burden. If a gale of wind is
likely to slam a gate against her, it should be let to slam.
A man is under no obligation to put his horse in a temper
or lose his position on this account. If she cannot manage
the gate as he had to, let her be caught by it. This may
seem a heartless, cold-blooded thing to say, but it is the atti-
tude which, in the long run, conduces most to a fair rider's
sport and pleasure.

One hears the unkind comment not infrequently, of
course, that men are agreeable and generous in the draw-
ing-room, but selfish the moment hounds begin running,
and the fault is more with the men really than with the
women. Men seem to feel they simply must be gallant.
This is especially true of Americans.

Yet, in one sense, this is only to be expected, for a woman
in the field is a constant object of wonderment or admira-
tion. There is nothing that sets off a nice hunter as her
figure does, nothing that adds more to the beauty and
interest of the game than the presence of a goodly number

3

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tJ3

>

c
■-3

OS

u

The Lady Rider 233

of ladies. They are totally unaccountable. They do the
most reckless things, entirely oblivious of circumstances.
Look at this Amazon with loose rein and horse rushing
without let or hindrance through a piece of woods, her
hair down and streaming out behind. You expect to see
her skirts cling to some projecting prong of a tree, or her
hair catch on some limb overhead. Away she goes, happy in
the ecstasy of the chase. A check you think ought to find
her face blanched; but you reckon without your host.
Not she ! She simply throws the reins down on the neck
of her horse, which is quite willing to stand, being pumped
to a turn, and begins with both hands to arrange her back
hair, having previously filled her mouth with hair-pins.
Her face struggles with smiles she cannot repress. And
as the last hair-pin is released from between her ruby lips,
she says to any one who may happen to be standing near,
"Was it not glorious, that ride through the woods?"

Horsemanship is not a woman's forte, yet with those
wonderful hands of hers she can manage many a horse
with ease that a man would discard as a brute for pulling.
Away she sails through footing good or bad, with the
same free hand, leaving her horse to manage for himself.
The lines are in her hands, it is true, but she seldom inter-
feres with the bit.

Another beautiful thing about her riding is that her
mount seems to be in perfect harmony with her ways. A
sort of mystic understanding seems to exist between them;
she seems to govern by some subtle power like hypnotism.
She never irritates or worries or punishes him in any way.
This, by the way, is one very important lesson to be learned

234 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

from her. A man who rode in her style would be called
a reckless daredevil, and probably be run away with every
day he came out. The chances she takes successfully seem
to suggest a charmed life, or strengthen one's faith in the
good old doctrine of predestination.

Occasionally a lady rider exhibits a bit of horsemanship,
but as a rule she is conspicuous for her lack of it, although,
amusingly enough, she does not know it, nor does her mount
seem to find it out.

"Some day," once said a young hunting man to me, "there
will be a most horrible accident to a lady rider in the
hunting-field, though may I never be present to witness it.
She courts danger as she does admiration."

" I have been expecting it for the last sixty years," said
an old hunting man to me in England, " but it never
comes."

" She takes my breath away," remarked a friend of mine

one day as we saw Miss F , a most welcome addition

to the Genesee Valley Hunt, send her faithful grey at a
fence with a miry take-off and a big drop on the landing
side. It was an awful scramble, but the blood of Wa-wa-
zanda was in the old mare's veins. She had her own way,
entirely unhampered, and in time we regained our normal
respiration.

The same woman who would jump upon a chair in
fright if a mouse ran across the room, or who would rather
die than bait a hook with a squirming angleworm, will
sail with apparently no concern at a stake-and-rider fence
with a ditch on the landing side that makes us shut our
eyes. They are enigmas, certainly. Their riding to

The Lady Rider 235

hounds is an object-lesson, but their boldness springs not
from, bravery or pluck or nerve, but simply resolution.
They have made up their minds to go, and whatever it is
that stands for their nerve or courage is screwed to the
sticking-point until the end of the run. I say all this with
the greatest respect, of course, and mean no slur whatever.
I remember once, upon my ship's arriving in the Bay of
Fayal, Azores, passengers were obliged to go ashore in life-
boats in a sea that was running very high, and among them
was a woman whose destination was Fayal. She was a
peculiarly nervous type, just short, indeed, of the hysterical.
During the voyage, if the great ship gave an unusual lurch
or roll, she would scream in terror, and every one won-
dered how in the world she was to get down the narrow
gangway and into the small boat, bounding up and down as
it was, with no assisting hand. A person descending the
ladder had to stop on the last round and wait until a wave
of the right height placed the small boat on a level with
the step an instant before it dropped again ten or fifteen
feet into the trough of the sea. The captain, a Portuguese,
in a comical state of anxiety to know how to manage this
particular passenger, finally turned and walked away, fear-
ing a scene. The key of the situation, however, was in
her woman's head. A firm look of resolution settled over
her face. She glanced once over the rail ; then, with a toss
of her head, walked to the ladder and, spurning all assis-
tance, made the descent with less apparent concern than any
man who had preceded her. Such was her woman's wav.
It was simply resolution, that set like a time-lock and car-
ried her through. No doubt she fainted at the landing.

236 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

At least one hunt in America has probably a dozen most
accomplished horsewomen — the Toronto Hunt Club of
Ontario, Canada. Nowhere have I ever seen so many
brilliant lady riders to hounds. And, by the way, there is
no prettier hunt club in America than this same Toronto
Club. The club-house, in the natural forest, on a steep
bluff on the shores of Lake Ontario, is one of the most
delightful spots, planned and managed in the best of taste.
The great charm of the place is that nature has been left
severely alone. The paths are simply trails through the
wood. The club-house itself is a model of convenience,
and the arrangement and management of the kennels are
superior to anything I have ever seen on the same side of
the Atlantic.

One of the most enjoyable days to hounds I ever had in
England was in the wake of an accomplished horsewoman.
I had been spending a week in the Quorn country, and on
the train for Warwick fell in with some hunting men, of
whom I enquired with what pack they hunted and where
the meet was. They hunted with the North Warwick-
shire hounds, it seemed, and the meet was that day at Kenil-
worth Castle. As I should be passing Kenilworth, I thought
I would drop off there and look at the castle, which I had
never seen, and also, perhaps, get a glimpse of my new ac-
quaintances again at the meet at eleven. Though with
little time to spare, I was so fortunate as to secure an excel-
lent mount at a livery, a clean-bred thoroughbred whose
rider had telegraphed at the last moment that he could not
come. I slipped into my hunting-clothes, and was at the
meet in the nick of time. It was a glorious day, and there

The Lady Rider 237

were nearly two hundred riders present, whose pink coats
lent an exhilarating colour to the picture. It so happened
when we got ofF that I found myself striding along in the
wake of the most artistic and accomplished lady rider I had
ever seen. Besides a perfect figure, her seat and carriage
were faultless, and she seemed to have an unusual amount of
horse-sense or horsemanship, that most pleasing because one
of the least frequent gifts among women who ride to
hounds. Do what I would, I had to be content with a view
of her back. We had a glorious gallop of twenty minutes
or more straight away over beautiful meadows, as thrilling
and brilliant a charge as one could wish, hunters to right
of us, hunters to left of us. On rode my pilot, and well ;
bullfinch and ditch, timber and brook — I never had such
a lead in my life. A check came none too soon, for our
horses were done to a turn.

''Who is that lady?" I asked a farmer-looking chap,
pointing to my pilot. He looked at me from head to foot.

" Don't you know who that is? "

" No ; I am a stranger here."

" Bless you, sir ! But every one in England knows that
lady, or ought to. That 's the Countess of Warwick." —
Whose face, I must confess, was as beautiful as her figure,
which was, in turn, as perfect as her riding.

I pulled out of the run to take the three-o'clock train for
Warwick, and had a charming visit of sight-seeing at the
castle. As the guide was showing me through, I asked to
see some relics of Richard, Earl of Warwick, of whom I had
read in Bulwer Lytton's "Last of the Barons."

"They are in the living-rooms," he replied. "If the

238 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

family are away I may possibly take you in." He returned
to inform me the countess was hunting.

"Yes," said I; "I have reason to know she is hunting.
I had twenty minutes in her wake this very afternoon, and
it was the greatest twenty minutes of my life in the saddle."

My praise of his lady so touched his heart that he
showed me all through the house. It was an unexpected
day, but one in which my cup was right side up from start
to finish. I take the liberty to relate this little adven-
ture freely by way of thanks for courtesies received and in
tribute to perfect riding.

One thing that spoils many riding men and particularly
makes miserable many riding women is that the moment
they are accomplished enough to keep to the front, jealousy
of the accomplishments of others springs up in them. They
begin to talk about how they cut down So-and-so, and fish
generally for compliments. The women, at any rate, get
them, of course, which only intensifies their spirit of emula-
tion, and sooner or later will mark the end of their riding.
Yet, with all the lady rider's faults, we love her still. May
she never cease to grace the hunting-field with her pres-
ence. She certainly has a charmed as well as a charming
life in the saddle, and I, for one, welcome her ever if she
knows that every woman is a man in the hunting-field, and
that it is every man for himself, with his Satanic Majesty to
look after the hindmost.

XXII
MIND-POWER HORSEMANSHIP

" I said to myself, it is hard to believe.
But yet as I look I can plainly perceive.
In the dash of the horse that is leading the van.
The workings that come from the mind of the man."

POEMS IN PINK

1

XXII
MIND-POWER HORSEMANSHIP

AN INDEFINABLE SOMETHING" PERSONAL MAGNETISM

CONSENT TO BE GOVERNED CULTIVATION OF

MIND-POWER CONTROL

'here seems to exist between man and beast
a certain force by which the former is able to
exert over the latter some subtle influence to
which various names such as " bond of sym-
pathy," ** an indefinable something," are occasionally given.
So far as I am aware, no writer on hunting has attempted
to advance any hypothesis which may reasonably account
for the source of this power or define its scope and limi-
tations.

We hear it said that dogs and horses love certain people
because these people love them, and that this love itself
explains their control over horses or dogs. " All dogs
take to me," one person says ; " I don't know why it is,
but I can make them do almost anything." And, indeed,
some persons easily teach a dog or a cat or a bird a trick
which another would require weeks to instruct them in, if
he did not fail altogether. Yet, while it is true that a per-
son who loves animals is more likely to train them easily,

241

242 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the power cannot be attributed to love, for often an entire
stranger can make an animal do things which the owner,
who loves the creature dearly and is in turn dearly loved,
fails to accomplish. One man will take a horse that he
has never seen or ridden before through a cross-country
run to hounds, and bring him in at the death without
exhausting him as much as his owner would, although the
latter may be as good a horseman and lighter in weight.
Every hunting-field affords examples of this, which cannot
be accounted for by difference of horsemanship. Writers
on hunting all agree that some men can make a horse do
most incredible things, and attribute this wonderful power
of control to " better hands," " better seat," or what not.
It must be admitted that a person with very bad hands or
a bad seat, or both, may irritate a horse and take more
out of him in a run than a man with perfect hands and
seat ; but an explanation on this basis does not account for
the fact that a better rider and a lighter can come through
a run with the better-conditioned horse pumped to a turn,
while another man who has ridden the same line brings
his horse in comparatively fresh ; or that two such men
may change horses in the next run and find the results
change too. The fact has been demonstrated so often in
every hunting-field that I need not enlarge upon it, except
to say we must look further than any theory as to hands
and seat, or of the power of love, in explanation of such
phenomena.

Most of my readers have doubtless seen, at exhibitions
throughout the country, examples of the wonderful control
some men have over animals, the wild becoming tame, the

Mind-power Horsemanship 243

nervous quiet, and the vicious tractable under their magic
influence. Such things are sometimes explained by the
sceptics as the results of " doping." From personal know-
ledge, however, as a pupil of Rarus, and from personal
acquaintance with the late Professor Norris, and since with
his son Mr. Stuart Norris, who is following in the foot-
steps of his illustrious father in the training and exhibition
of trick horses, I am positive in saying that there is abso-
lutely no foundation in attributing to this " doping " theory
the wonderful power of control which these men display.

Let us see if an attempt to puzzle out or analyse this
power will not result in establishing its source. We may
start with the assumption that the numerous terms in com-
mon use to define this power — "charm," "gift," "per-
sonal magnetism," "will power," "natural instinct" — go
to show that its existence is recognised beyond doubt or
question. An analogous power of control existing between
man and man is familiar under the names of hypnotism,
magnetism, mesmerism, or kindred mind-power manifesta-
tions. All mind-power manifestation, under whatever name,
is, I believe, subject to one universal condition, namely, con-
sent. The resemblance between the terms generally adopted
in attempting to describe the power that some men have over
their mounts, and the terms by which we try to describe hyp-
notism and other mind-power manifestations between men
and men, is significant. One set of words applies just as fairly
to the power some men are capable of exerting over some
other men as they do to the powers which great animal-
tamers or our peculiarly gifted horsemen have over the
animals they bend to their wills. That some men possess

244 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

this power over animals and are unconscious of exerting it
is no proof that the power does not exist. Hypnotism,
though old in essence, is in practice very lately out of its
infancy, yet making vast progress. Several physicians of
my acquaintance are making use of it with most satisfac-
tory results, even employing it in place of antiseptics when
performing dental and surgical operations. So rapidly has
this subject developed of late in the medical world that one
of the most successful physicians of to-day says : " Within
ten years from now no student of medicine will be consid-
ered master of the profession unless he is able to command
this power." If this mind power between man and man
is the same as that between man and beast, we have proba-
bly what may be termed a working hypothesis covering
the whole field and reasonably accounting for many other-
wise unaccountable things in the way of horsemanship.

We noticed, under the subject of mind-power manifesta-
tions as between man and man, that the one common fac-
tor prevailing in all is consent, which has its parallel in the
relation between man and beast, called by whatever name.
In all hunting countries there is a saying that in order to be
successful in horsemanship one must first get on good terms
with one's mount. Getting on good terms with a horse is
merely obtaining his consent to be governed. If these
things be true, it brings us to the conclusion that this power
emanates from the same source, whether exercised between
man and man or between man and beast, and the working
hypothesis we have set out to establish may be summed up
as follows : ( i ) there exists a mind-power control between
man and man; {2) there exists a mind-power control

Mind-power Horsemanship 245

between man and beast; and (3) the power of control is
the same in both cases.

This brings us to another point purposely omitted until
now, namely, that while a person or a horse may be will-
ing to be acted upon, the person seeking to control him
must be desirous of doing so. In all hypnotic demonstra-
tions there must be harmony, accord, or what the French
term rapport. Further, this power, or desire, ( i ) exists in
every person to a greater or less degree; (2) it is, like
other faculties of the mind or body, subject to cultivation
or development, and, like them, increases with use; (3) its
manifestation is in a degree proportionate to the will of the
one or the faith or confidence of the other.

I shall not attempt to advance any evidence to sustain
the theory of mind power in the case of man and man, as
that is universally admitted. As to the power of control
of man over animals, I may be pardoned for stating a few
facts that have come under my observation. I once had
for a stud-groom a North-of-Ireland man, Peters by name.
He had very heavy hands and his seat was something
shocking, on account of which I seldom permitted him to
mount a colt or hunter. When, however, he did go. out,
I was always struck with the fact that he brought his horse
home in better condition than any other groom I ever had.
During all the years he was in my employ, I doubt if he
ever struck one of the twelve stallions which during that
time were under his entire charge. One of them, Mac-
beth, a thoroughbred, was, as I learned after he came into
my possession, a man-killer. He had killed one stable-man,
and several others had had very narrow escapes from his

2_j.6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

vicious temper. I had an experience of my own to show
that Macbeth had not improved in temper, when I was
driving one day, with another man than Peters leading him
behind a two-wheeled top-cart, to a stallion show at
Geneseo. The vicious beast suddenly reared and struck
both fore feet through the leather top of the cart, which
was up at the time, evidently with most wicked intent,
tipping over the trap and throwing us both into the road.
The whole top of the cart was torn off, the stallion's feet
fast tangled in the bows of the top. That we were not
killed was no fault of the stallion. When, however,
Peters arrived upon the scene, the sav^age beast, seeminglv
at a word, became as quiet as a lamb, allowing himself to be
handled and led away by his groom under perfect control.
Probably every one who has had much to do with horses
can cite similar experiences from his own observation.
Whence comes this power, this magic influence ?

This interesting subject was first forcibly suggested to
me by the actions of an old favourite driving-mare. She
had been in my family many years, and, it is safe to say,
had been in harness or under saddle on an average of once
a day during all that time. A few years ago we began to
notice that when Sunday came the old mare would turn of
her own accord toward church, and that if I was going to
a train she invariably turned in the direction of the station.
Her usual errand to town was to the post-office, where she
probablv went nine times out of ten. The station re-
quired a turn to the left, the church a turn to the right,
while the post-office was farther on in a direct road. We
have assigned many reasons for this seeming intelligence on

Mind-power Horsemanship 247

the part of the old mare, but none of them except that of
the mind of the rider or driver's having some influence over
her action fits all the circumstances. With this suggestion,
I began one day to go over my experience in the saddle, and
the education of colts and the schooling of hunters, and I
came to the conclusion that this mind-power theory gives the
only satisfactory answer to many knotty problems concern-
ing horses and horsemanship. For instance, in hunting it
is everywhere noticeable that, when ridden by some men,
horses that are only soft green things or colts come out
of a run in remarkably fresh condition as compared with
some old seasoned hunters that are, as they say in England,
"as hard as nails." Some heavy men, those who, for
example, ride at a hundred and eighty or two hundred
pounds, bring their horses in comparatively fresher than
those ridden by lighter men and better riders. I am per-
suaded that this better condition after a hard run cannot be
accounted for by hands or seat. Again, it is the experience
of some riders that they can ride a horse through a severe
run with the least possible fatigue to themselves. I have
always been rather shy about saying it, because it seemed
contrary to reason ; but I am going to say it now : I can
ride a horse fifty, sixty, or even seventy miles in a day,
which shall include a run to hounds, and not feel more
fatigued at the end than from a ride of ten, twelve, or
eighteen miles in a carriage; and I find now and then a
person who reports a similar experience. I believe this is
owing to a mutual compensation between rider and horse.
I have also remarked that when I watch a run from a
carriage I go home quite worn out. I help, in imagina-

24^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound

tion, every horse I see jumping, that is to say, ride each
one, mentally, just as if I were on his back. After an hour
of this sort of riding I am quite fatigued. I believe that
it is due to the fact that I have not actually had a horse
under me from whom to receive the necessary compen-
sation.

May it not be this very power we have been discussing,
more than " hands," that makes a horse stop pulling as soon
as a person has been up long enough to obtain the animal's
consent to be governed ? This is not, of course, to say that
a man who has a bad seat and is all the time nagging at
his horse's mouth can by the mere exercise of his will
make his horse cease pulling. We hear everywhere
" hands " called a gift, truly enough ; but may good hands
not owe their existence more to a gift of mind power than
to mere skill in handUng ? May it not be owing to this
mind-power control over animals that many lady riders
have over their mounts what, in the absence of horseman-
ship, we call a " charmed life " in the saddle ?

We hear everywhere among hunting men a great deal
about lifting one's horse at a jump, the expression, which
is a common one, conveying the idea that this is done by
an actual pull at the bit. Never was a more absurd notion
entertained. One might as well say a man could climb a
pole and pull the pole up after him. If the phrase, how-
ever, means that by the mind power of control a man can
assist a horse, I do not dispute it, for it seems to me that,
from the very use of the expression so frequently, riders are
conscious of rendering great assistance to a horse at the
moment of going over a fence. It is by a lift, to be sure.

Mind-power Horsemanship 249

but by a lift of the will, or by the mind's power of control.
In the case of the heavy-weights who in every hunt club
get across country with more ease to themselves and to their
mounts, and with less fatigue to both, than many of
the lighter men, in spite of all sorts of reasons assigned,
may not the truth be that such riders, conscious of their
weight, in some way aid their horses by their mind's power
of control ?

I never yet met a hunting man, or any man who had
much to do with horses, who did not believe that a rider, by
losing his nerve at a fence, almost invariably caused his horse
to refuse the jump. Conversely, if it is admitted that a horse
can be influenced by fear in the mind of his rider, why
should not the animal feel the effects of the opposite men-
tal state, namely, confidence or courage on the part of his
master ? What means can a horse possibly possess of feel-
ing the state of his rider's mind which do not equally apply
to the interpretation of any of the other power manifesta-
tions we have mentioned ?

The great T. Assheton Smith came very near hitting the
nail on the head when he said: "Throw your heart over
the fence, and your horse will follow it." I would respect-
fully beg to amend that saying, in the light of mind-power
control, by making it run : " Throw your horse over the
fence, and stay with him the best way you can in the
flight."

We have attempted to show that there must be not only
consent on the part of the mount, but will on the part of
the rider, to insure control ; that some men can ride
a horse as if he were an engine, the horse, in such a case.

250 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

having no assistance whatever, since none can be had with-
out the desire to give it. The next point is, how can one
train a horse so as to have over him the power of control
to which I refer ? I reply in two words — by confidence.
Confidence presupposes consent. To obtain that end, there
must be an entire absence of fear on the horse's part. I
have not struck a horse or colt with a whip in fifteen years,
except, perhaps, a crack of the crop when he was going at
his fence in a shifty gait that showed he was in a change-
able state of mind.

In schooling a horse, there is nothing, as I said in the
chapter on training, like throwing him down. It does not
hurt him or frighten him, and from that moment he has
the greatest respect for you, and begins to believe in you.
He has seen a practical demonstration of your power.
You are, in other words, obtaining his consent to be
governed.

In advancing a theory of mind-power horsemanship, I
have given free rein to what is not, I am convinced, alto-
gether fanciful speculation, in the hope that readers, once
their attention is directed to the subject, may be induced
to experiment on their own account. If the hypothesis
stands the necessary tests, it may teach horsemen practical
lessons, to the mutual advantage of themselves and their
mounts. For myself, I believe that such a mind power of
control does exist, in greater or less degree, in nearly every
one, and is undoubtedly susceptible of cultivation. At any
rate, when one considers its efficacy, as powerful as it is subtle
in given instances, the least that can be said of it is that
it is worth trying for.

XXIII
DRIVING TO HOUNDS

" Oh, bear me, some kind power invisible.
To that extended lawn where the gay court
View the swift racers stretching to the goal! "

SOMERVILLE

XXIII
DRIVING TO HOUNDS

AN INTERESTING PASTIME THE DOCTOR AND THE LITTLE

MARE A REMARKABLE SPILL

BOOK of this kind would hardly be com-
plete if it failed to mention an interesting if
not an exciting feature of hunting ; that is,
the viewing of the chase, or as much of it
as may be possible, from carriages driven along the high-
way. As most persons' introduction to hunting is accom-
plished in this way, I venture to take a drive with my
readers through such a first run, and I cannot better do
this than by giving an account of my own first acquain-
tance with the sport.

Early in the eighties it was my good fortune to move
into that beautiful and fertile section of country known as
the Genesee Valley, and to see soon after a hunt for the
first time in my life — the famous Genesee Valley Hunt,
riding cross country to hounds. My ideas of fox-hunting
had hitherto been of the vaguest. I remember thinking
that all other ways than going after foxes with a gun must
be unbecoming to a sportsman.

My good friend the Doctor invited me one day to ride

253

2 54 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

out with him to see a fox-hunt. The thought of going
hunting in a buggy was quite foreign to my ideas of sport,
and I had less than half a heart in accepting the invitation.
The Doctor, on the other hand, was brimful of enjoyment.
He was not a riding man himself, the large rotundity of
his figure forbidding any activity in the saddle, but a keener
sportsman or a more enthusiastic one it would have been
hard to find. The meet was at the Hermitage, and we
were, unfortunately, too late to see the assembly. Hounds
had gone on to draw the Hermitage Wood. The doctor
was in a great state of agitation to think we had missed the
meet. However, we drove down the farm lane behind
the Fitzhugh manor-house, with a mere chance of their
coming north. In the meantime the good Doctor expa-
tiated to me on the subject of this " grand pack of hounds,"
this " oldest hunt," ** best horses," and ** best cross-country
riders in America," working himself up to a higher and
higher pitch because I responded only in the most indiffer-
ent manner. He tried harder and harder to make me
appreciate the splendid opportunity I was enjoying. All
at once he brought his little black mare Kitty to a stand-
still and listened.

" I hear them ! " he shouted, and stood up in his buggy
— a little side-bar spider-like trap. I remember thinking
what would the Doctor do on a runway after deer or wild
turkey in the great forests of Michigan, if he made all this
fuss over a fox.

"I do believe they are coming this way!" cried the Doc-
tor. " Don't you hear them ?"

'* Sit down!" I cried, "or you will be out on your head."

Driving to Hounds 255

I hoped no one would see us, for surely the Doctor
would have been thought crazy or drunk, he was so
completely transformed from his usual dignified manner.
When he entered a patient's house or walked the streets he
carried himself like a churchwarden taking the Sunday
collection; yet, to see him now, one might have thought
him a boy of eight waiting for his father to come home
with fire-crackers and punk for a Fourth-of-July cele-
bration.

** I believe they are coming this way ! " And again the
Doctor stood up, and I looked round to see if any one
could see us.

" I hear them ! " he cried at last; and then he clutched
me by the collar for support, and stood up on the cushion.
I expected every moment to see him lose his balance and
go headlong. It was a sight to make one tremble — two
hundred and twenty-five pounds and six feet balancing
itself on the cushions of a side-bar buggy and gesticulating
wildly.

" Sit down ! " I cried. " Your mare will start and pitch
you out."

He stepped down at last, and called to his great pointer
Sancho to jump into the waggon. There stood the little
mare, with ears sharp ahead, and the pointer with his fore
feet on the dash-board, looking first into the Doctor's face
and then in the direction indicated by his extended
finger.

" Here they come ! Here they come ! " shouted the
Doctor, as a dozen hounds came tumbling over the fence
on the far side of a great level meadow. " Here they

256 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

come ! " And twenty couples or more came charging across
the field, followed by thirty-five or forty riders.

Instantly, I must confess, I was carried away with de-
light. There could not be a prettier picture of a hunt.
On came the hounds, heads down, working like pointers
along the line across the field directly toward us. They
were upon us in a moment, jumping from the field into
the lane and out of the lane into another field within a few
rods of where we stood. The Doctor put about, and away
we raced little Kitty out of the lane, into the highway,
and down the road on a dead run. The mud fiew like
sparks from a pinwheel twenty feet in every direction,
plastering our backs. *' No matter ; rub it off when it gets
dry ! " cried the Doctor. '' We must have another view."

Presently up behind us came Miss F with a friend,

a lady, driving a pair of thoroughbreds harnessed to a buck-
board, the horses running as fast as they could lay foot to
the mud. The sight of these young ladies as they passed
us, the lines lying loose on the backs of the charging
steeds, was enough to electrify a stone.

"That 's the sort ! " shouted the Doctor. "Go on ! "

A smile and a nod, and away they flew again. The
Doctor let out another link in the little mare's speed, and,
be it said to the credit of the gamest bit of horse-flesh of
her inches I ever saw, the little mare raced on for half a
mile to the turn in the road to Mount Morris, setting the
pace for Miss F 's thoroughbreds.

A dozen carriages were waiting at this turn. The
hounds were at fault only a moment, however, and finally
crossed the Mount Morris road and went straight along

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Driving to Hounds 257

the east side of the river toward Geneseo. On rushed the
Doctor, the pointer, with his fore feet still on the dash-
board, barking at every one we passed. Crossing the high-
way on to the Able farm, we saw three or four riders go to
grass. On went the huntsmen. On went the carriages,
strung out like a funeral procession for length, but all with
horses galloping madly. And on raced the Doctor, until he
headed the procession. I have been run away with several
times, but I never again travelled so fast in a buggy as I
did on this wild occasion. In jumping into the highway
crossing the Geneseo road, some one with his horse's nose
drawn down into his chest caught his mount's knees on
the top rail and turned a complete somersault ; and inciden-
tally I learned the most useful lesson to be taught in the
hunting-field. It was plain even to my inexperienced eyes
that the horse was thrown by its rider.

On a little farther we assisted at an extraordinary per-
formance, and brought our race to an end. A pair of
farm-horses which were attached to a lumber-waggon
with an empty box became frightened at all the hue and
cry, and ran away toward Geneseo. They were flying
along the edge of the beaten track just ahead of us, when
suddenly, the right fore wheel striking a large stump on
the side of the road, up went the box free of the waggon,
described a somersault through the air, and landed on the
ground with the farmer under it. The horses never halted.
The Doctor and I, when we arrived at the overturned box,
could hear the farmer underneath yelling like an Indian.
We jumped out of our waggon, and on tipping up the box
out came the farmer on his hands and knees, white as a

258 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

sheet but not injured in the least. I record this as the
most extraordinary thing I ever beheld, and as an exag-
gerated instance of what one may see driving to the hunt.

As for the Doctor and me, v^^e were a rare sight. We
dug the mud out of our necks and ears and eyes, and started
for home, telling each other over and over again the events
of the day. The gamy little mare that drew us came in
for no small share of our comments. There would come a
pause, when the Doctor's face would kindle and he would
break out laughing again with : " But how the little
mare did go ! "

Thus ended my first drive to hounds. Needless to say,
it was not long before I had out a saddle and began prac-
tising jumping on my own account. I got a saddle on a
driving-horse back on the farm, and had my first jumping
lessons out of sight. My early training at bareback riding
stood me in good stead, and before I was much older I
was by way of becoming a hunting man myself. I practised
with more and more enthusiasm till my good wife heard of
my doings and interposed.

" Now you must promise," she protested, " you will
never ride in the hunts."

A hand clinched each lapel of my coat persuadingly,
and after some hedging I found I had no alternative but
to promise.

I took her to see a run herself one day not long after, and
my lady was enthusiastic. " What beautiful horses ! " she
exclaimed. " I wish you had one for me to ride." I prom-
ised readily to get one. Fortunately we had seen no falls.
"Ah, if I were a man," she declared, " I should hai)e to ride."

Driving to Hounds 259

I suggested warily that although she was not a man I
was, and that —

" Now stop," she interrupted. " I believe this is all a
trap just to get my consent."

" It 's a trap, maybe, but you 've walked into it unassisted,
Madame," I had the pleasure of retorting. May every
married man succeed as easily as I did in getting his wife's
consent to his hunting !

I never forgot, however, the excitement and interest of
driving to hounds, which can be recommended as rare sport
and diversion for all who for any reason cannot ride. It
affords one an abundance of exciting spectacle and, if one
iceeps an eye alert, not a little instruction in the points, both
major and minor, of cross-country riding.

i

XXIV
OFFICERS AND HUNT ASSISTANTS

"The huntsman in front on the bay

Flies on like a boy at his play.
He counts the good pack speeding over the plain.
And grins as he looks for a skirter in vain.
He says to the whip, ' They are at it again.

Hark forrard, hark forrard away.' "

POEMS IN PINK

XXIV

OFFICERS AND HUNT ASSISTANTS

THE M.F.H. THE HUNTSMAN THE WHIPPERS-IN THE KENNEL

HUNTSMAN THE EARTH-STOPPER

'he office of Master of Foxhounds has never
reached the exalted rank in America that it
has in England, but the duties of the office
are for the most part the same in both coun-
tries. Few people, even a large number of those who ride
to hounds, have more than a confused idea of what these du-
ties are. Enough has already been said on the question of
the breeding and management of hounds to show that in this
field alone they are no trifling matter. In addition there is
the oversight of the breeding of horses, invariably accom-
panying an established hunt, as well as many social duties
and a large correspondence. There are also the various
executive duties involved in the administration of hunt
affairs. The enormous expenses of at least one hunt in
America are borne by the M.F.H., who not only owns
the hounds, but pays all the bills involved in running the
stud and kennels, the members of the hunt paying only a
dollar a year each. The expense of a hunt club cannot
come far short of five hundred dollars for every day that
hounds hunt.

263

264 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

Enough has also been said about horse-breeding to shov/
that although it is in no way to be compared with hound-
breeding it is no small item in the account where the
Master undertakes not only to provide himself but also the
huntsman and whippers-in with mounts — three or four each
— and have half a dozen extra horses for bye-days and for
friends and guests. No one who has seen an M.F.H. in the
full discharge of his social and official capacities, or recalls
what he has done in the breeding and development of the
hound and the management of the pack, can fail to appreciate
' his labours or help being stimulated to make them as light
as possible. We shall see the Master in his official capa-
city at the consultation of war and at the covert-side, and
at the meet as well as at the hunt dinner in his social aspects.

Of the huntsman it has been said that " from the fox
he learns cunning, from the hounds sagacity," which indi-
cates the combination of qualities necessary in him. Occa-
sionally a Master hunts his own hounds, but more often a
salaried huntsman is employed, one whose long years of
experience as whipper-in make him a past master in the
art. His qualifications, like those of the hounds that assist
him and the horse that carries him, are of a high order.
He plays against the craftiest and longest-headed animal of
field or forest. Every plot of cunning Renard to elude his
pursuers the huntsman must meet with a counter-plot.
He must have the woodcraft, the ear and nose, of an Indian.

Most huntsmen, we believe, prefer to approach covert
"down-wind," for two reasons: first, since no sportsman
wishes to have a fox "chopped" in covert, to give the
fox timely warning ; second, because, while a fox is a very

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officers and Hunt Assistants 265

timid animal and almost anything turns his course once
he is on the way, he hates to break covert, and will often
return to it even if he has to run among the riders and the
hounds themselves to accomplish his purpose. In the
former case, of course our huntsman has sent the first
whipper-in ahead to take up a position on the opposite
side of the covert in the best position attainable to view a
fox away when he breaks. Approaching covert down-
wind also affords him an opportunity to go away in the
other direction, — up-wind, — which, giving him more
timely warning of approaching danger, is his natural way
of travelling. Leaving very little scent behind him when
he begins to travel and when sleeping quietly, the fox
seems to know that hounds may fairly run over him with-
out detecting him, and the huntsman finds it very impor-
tant to make the best of a light scent on a day when scent
is likely to be poor. In such cases the covert is drawn up-
wind, to get the hounds as close on their fox as possible.
It is considered justifiable by most huntsmen, when the
first whipper-in or a rider views away a fox under such con-
ditions, to " lift " the hounds on, out of covert, as quickly,
and lay them to the line as far ahead, as possible. The
fox may have broken covert up-wind, but it is only a mat-
ter of time when he turns short down-wind, probably
owing to his being persuaded that since he really is pur-
sued, it is the better part of valour to trust to luck for what
may be ahead and put himself sharp down-wind in order
to keep the longest ear to the hounds and what is coming
after. A fox is crafty in this also, that he dislikes being
made to do anything not in his first matured plan. This

266 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

usually is to reach security in the nearest earth or coyert,
and therefore in changing his course down-wind he runs
at a distance determined by the extreme limit of his hearing
powers. Then when hounds check he can generally stop
running, and if not pressed turn at last to make the point
he had in mind when he left covert. It is for this reason
knowing riders when they arrive at covert take up a posi-
tion, if possible, on the down-wind side, especially if Ren-
ard went away at all across the wind ; — all of which goes
to show that a huntsman must form quickly an idea of the
plans working in the mind of his hunted fox. The con-
clusions to be drawn from the way he left covert ; from the
scent in the first few fields ; from his age, sex, and condi-
tion for running ; from a hundred and one things a novice
would never think of looking for, must be to him an
open book.

A keen huntsman, from the characteristics of every
hound in the pack, learns in the first half-hour much as to
the special tactics he will have to deal with in his fox.
Perhaps the fox is a " ringer," one the huntsman thinks
he has chased before, since his plan is identical with the
last one they chased from this same covert and lost ; and
he is ready, from experience, with his counter-plot. Thomas
Smith gives an account of a huntsman who, on finding he
was for a second or third time after a ringer, stopped the
hounds, went the other way around, and met Mr. Renard
face to face. They viewed him away, and in due time he
was sent to the land of his fathers. An experienced hunts-
man seems to know instinctively when the hounds are at
fault.

1

officers and Hunt Assistants 267

After the manner of chess-players, Renard and the
huntsman first try the ordinary moves of the game, such as,
on Renard's part, running in rings, or trying for some
open earth he knows. In this case the earth-stopper also
knows about them, and, directed by the huntsman, has been
there during the night — while Renard prowled the country
— and stopped them. Again, if Renard runs to and finds
an open earth, especially in the beginning of a run, he may
not really enter it to stay : he would like, of all things, to
have the hunt stop and dig him out when he is miles away.
In this case the huntsman's move is a wide, careful cast
about the earth till the hounds discover the line again and
are off. These are preliminary moves. Later in the game
he will break straight away for some distant covert where
he knows for a certainty a particular fox, a friend of his,
always kennels in the day. With a wink of " the other eye,"
he flourishes his brush at the hounds and sails straight for
that particular covert. Awaking his friend from a sound
sleep, he gives him an account of a thousand hounds that
are coming after, says he just dropped in to give a timely
warning to run for life, and away also goes his friend, the
first hunted fox slipping quietly to one side and lying down
to rest. It is an old move and has worked beautifully on
many occasions. But the huntsman also knows a thing or
two ; he has noted that the older hounds hesitated at a certain
point, while the younger ones took up the line. This can
have only one interpretation. "Toot-toot!" he goes on
his horn, and the whippers-in are off like shot out of a gun
to head off the pack and turn them back to where the
huntsman calls them.

268 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

"Get back, Browso! Back, Smuggler!" shout the
whippers-in, with much cracking of their double thongs.

The instant the hounds are collected, the huntsman
takes them back to the point where the older hounds hesi-
tated. Sure enough ! Tinbush hits off the line of the
hunted fox with a cry of joy that brings every hound to
her side. Away they go again, making the forest echo
with the clamour of their musical tongues.

Meanwhile Renard has been having a rest, enjoying his
laugh at the hounds and his good joke on his friend. Now
he hears the pack returning, and begins to realise his scheme
has failed. Yet he has caused a check and recovered his
second wind. With another flourish of his brush, another
knowing look, he steals away along the furrow of a half-
ploughed field. On goes the chase. Again the hounds are
getting too near for comfort. Renard now stops, jumps as
wide as he can to the right, runs on a little way, and lies
down again ; or runs back in the very tracks he came in.
The hounds coming on at a fearful pace go a hundred
yards or more over the end of the line. Their heads go
up, their music ceases. Again they are at a check. But
the huntsman, not checkmated yet by any means, recalls that
a little way back Bluebells made a sharp fling to the right.
He said "I thought so" perhaps, at the time, but always
lets his hounds make their own cast first to see what they
can do without his assistance. He blows his horn again,
and, with a wide cast back to where Bluebells made her
drive to the right, the pack again hits off the line. Again
Mr. Renard says, " Good day, gentlemen; I see I must be
moving," and trots off in a leisurely way until he hears the
pack once more upon his line in full cry.

M

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tiX)

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0-,

o
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ci

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officers and Hunt Assistants 26^

Now he runs through a field where cattle or sheep are
feeding, to destroy his line by entangling it with the scent
of the tramping beasts. When a check occurs under such
circumstances as this the huntsman is considered justified in
lifting his hounds smartly forward. It is only another trial
of his judgment. In all the confusion, which way has the
fox gone ? Thanks to experience and the quick hint of
instinct, the huntsman in most cases knows to a certainty.
Once more he brings order out of chaos, and hounds are
again settled to the line. Now the moves in the game are
made more rapidly, and Renard, growing more tired, has
less choice where to turn. He takes to water, swimming
the brook with the hounds close behind him. Ten minutes
more of riding, and then Bluebells, Forrester, Bunco, Tinbush,
the oldest and trustiest noses in the pack, who, like the wise
old hound in Somerville's Chase, have until now been
hanging in the rear, *' niggards of their strength," are seen
charging to the front with renewed energy. The hunts-
man knows the end is near. The fox's streno-th is sinkin":.
The scent grows weaker, and only the older hounds can
follow it — eagerly, to be sure, since they know by experience
what its weakness portends.

Nov/, if never before during the game, must the hunts-
man have his wits about him. More foxes are lost when
they are dead tired, especially with a fast pack of hounds,
than are captured. At such times Renard makes his last
trick move against the hounds under their very noses,
and if it were not for the woodcraft of the huntsman
would get away nine times in ten. There is another check
of all the hounds, save old Bluebells and Forrester. The
huntsman plunges ahead, for not an instant is to be lost with

270 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

a sinking fox. He leaves the whippers-in to bring on the
pack the best they know how, and rides on madly, cheer-
ing to his two faithful hounds. A check again : as they come
out of a bit of woodland into more open country, even
Bluebells and Forrester can follow no farther. Where is
Renard gone ? West ? No ; a man is ploughing over
there. East ? No ; a man and a dog are quietly crossing
a field in that direction, or a timber-waggon is passing
along the highway. Whatever our huntsman does, he
takes in the whole situation at one sweeping glance, and
his mind is made up instantly. Ah ! He hears a jay-bird
making an unusual tumult in yonder piece of wood : his
fox is passing near it. Or the crows are seen a quarter of
a mile away making a swoop toward the earth : they are
mobbing the tired fox. Or, again, in a still more distant
field a flock of sheep are standing with heads up and faces
all in one direction : Mr. Renard is no doubt just passing
there.

So the game goes on, plot against counter-plot, cunning
against woodcraft, until the crafty fox wins at last or the
hounds have accounted for him by tracking him to earth.
It needs little more, certainly, to show the reader how
important the huntsman is in the game. What we have
seen him do, however, is not the half of what he is expected
to do and know. It goes without saying, too, that he
must be a very superior horseman and an accomplished
rider, and know every nook, corner, ditch, and ravine of
every farm for twenty miles around.

The duties of whippers-in are, speaking in a general
way, to assist the huntsman in the management of the

officers and Hunt Assistants 271

hounds. The special duties of the first whipper-in are
hardly less important than those of the huntsman. Indeed,
some Masters declare that if they could have but one high-
class man with hounds they would prefer that man to be
the first whipper-in rather than the huntsman.

The first whipper-in must needs be everywhere, nor
spare himself or his mount. He must keep to hounds, and
this necessity alone requires him to follow them over almost
impossible obstacles. He is obliged to ride many more
miles during a run than any other man in the hunt, and
altogether must be a most efficient rider and without
fear. His function at the covert-side is to go ahead and
station himself in such a position as will enable him to
view the fox away. The second whipper-in usually
accompanies the huntsman into covert to keep the hounds
together, prevent their running riot, and see when the fox
finally breaks that they are all brought on to the line.
The correcting of hounds falls principally to him, the
huntsman himself being a sort of shelter to which a hound
turns instantly he is chastised. The second whipper-in
must be not only a fearless rider, but a thorough horseman,
too, riding always to save his horse.

Another important officer of a hunt is the kennel hunts-
man, usually the huntsman himself or some one grown old
in the service of the hunt. On the kennel huntsman rests
a responsibility scarcely less grave than that of the hunts-
man or the Master. We treat of him here as a distinct
and separate officer.

The Master directs the selecting and breeding of hounds,
but kennel management depends upon the kennel hunts-

272 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

man's ability to carry out the Master's plans. The feeding
of thirty or fifty couples of hounds is no small matter. To
keep them all healthy, to doctor the ailing, nurse the
invalids, bandage the wounded, care for the bitches in
whelp, for the puppies at birth and in the trying age of
distemper, requires a man particularly fitted and qualified.
There are, further, the conditioning of hounds as the hunt-
ing season approaches, special supervision while they are
hunting, and the keeping of the peace among them at all
times — no light matter.

According to Badminton, in hunting five days in a week,
as many packs do in England, seventy-five couples of hounds
are required ; for four days a week, fifty-two couples ; two
days a week, twenty-eight couples. The annual consump-
tion of food for seventy-five couples is " forty tons of oatmeal,
three tons of dog-biscuits, and a hundred and fifty horses."
These figures may go to show further the responsibility of
the ofiicer in charge of kennels and their inmates. The
right apportionment of food is a delicate business. Over-
training may develope temper and jealousy and other dis-
agreeable traits. Altogether hounds need as much watching
and care as a lot of children would. Tinbush and Rol-
licker hate each other ; an old feud exists between them.
Tinbush snaps at a puppy, and Rollicker comes in, think-
ing now is his time to pay off an old grudge. Bradshaw,
the peacemaker, attempts to correct them both, and in half
a minute a dozen hounds are fighting to the death. These
battles are sometimes very desperate, and it takes a cou-
rageous man to go among the combatants. More than one
kennel huntsman has nearly lost his life in attempting to

officers and Hunt Assistants 273

settle these disputes when once the blood of the pack
is up.

The earth-stopper is usually some old faithful hunt ser-
vant who has seen better days, possibly an assistant about
the kennels. In England he is generally a superannuated
gamekeeper. He is invariably something of a ** character,"
and knows, or has the air of knowing, more about foxes
and their ways and about hunting generally than most of
the men who ride to hounds. During the summer months
he and his pony tramp the country for miles around. He
knows every earth and every litter of foxes within a
radius of twenty miles or more of the kennels, and will
tell you which farmers preserve the litters and which
trap them.

When, on the evening before a meet, the huntsman and
the Master have held a council of war and decided on what
particular covert they will draw, the earth-stopper is
instructed accordingly ; and soon after midnight, when the
foxes are prowling about in search of food, he mounts his
pony, and, with a lantern on his arm and a shovel in his
hand or slung on his back, goes the rounds of all the
earths in the neighbourhood of the covert proposed to be
drawn on the morrow. Arriving at an earth, he collects,
or has collected on the way, a bundle of sticks two feet or
more in length. These he binds together with a withe,
and crowds them into the earth, usually throwing upon
them a light covering of loam, his task sometimes requir-
ing half the night and a ride of twenty-five or thirty miles.
After the hunt he goes out and unstops them again, unless
for some reason it is thought best to keep them closed.

2 74 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

These nocturnal reconnoitrings of an old earth-stopper are
the cause of his reflective turn of mind, probably, and help
to fill his brain with the lore and opinions that make him
so interesting a person, in winter nights or other leisure
times, with whom to talk it all over.

XXV
HORSE COMPANIONSHIP

"A nature so noble, so generous and kind.
Can only be meant for a man with a mind;
A nature like this is intended to blend
With minds that are high, and be counted a friend."

POEMS IN PINK

XXV

HORSE COMPANIONSHIP

love of animals advice to beginners a long list of

" don'ts "

HAVE had a great deal to say about confi-
dence and companionship between rider and
mount, which I have declared to be better
understood in England than in America.
The average American seems to look upon a horse as sim-
ply a convenience, like the bicycle or the trolley cars, a
means by which he may reach his destination sooner and
with less fatigue than by walking. He presses a button
and the horse is brought to the door, and when he is
through with him a groom takes him away again. The
horse does not attain to the confidence of his master as he
does in England, where he becomes part of the family.
There is nothing degrading in the idea of companionship
with a horse. When one comes to think of it, many men
and some women not infrequently have about them less
edifying associates of their own kind. No man, woman, or
child was ever the worse for an intimate association with a
well-bred horse or dog.

It cannot be too much insisted on that this companion-

277

278 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ship between horse and rider is the very essence of cross-
country riding. Whoever has failed to secure the confidence
of his mount and his mount's in himself has failed of enjoy-
ing the best half- of the game. The right sort of man,
even if he may hardly be feeling well enough for a day's
hunting, will go out rather than deprive his horse of the
pleasure — a bit of self-sacrifice which sometimes happens
in England, unusual as it may be on the other side of the
Atlantic. The love of animals, especially of horses, is born
and bred in the English people. Unlike some Americans,
they one and all care enough for a horse that has given
them a most glorious day's sport to stay at the stable and
see him done up properly and fed before they dine them-
selves. In England the children are brought up from
infancy to consider the feelings of all domestic animals.
An old favourite mare soon to have a foal is talked over
again and again, and the expectant mother has the best of
care. Love and respect increase as the eventful time ap-
proaches. She is turned out on the lawn in front of the
house, where the grasses are tenderest and sweetest, and the
best of everything is none too good for her. The children
divide with her their candy ; the baby is held up and taught
to caress and love her. The dear old mare's matronly
appearance is never a cause of shame, but of pride, and
when at last she has produced her foal, the entire family,
down to nurse and the baby, must all go down to the
stable to see it. With such instincts, is it any wonder that
Englishmen and Englishwomen love a horse? Is it any
wonder that there exists between an English rider and his
mount a potent feeling of companionship ? Is it any cause

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Horse Companionship 279

for question why in England and Scotland there are a
hundred and thirty-eight packs of hounds ? Need one long
inquire why this sport has such a powerful hold that it is
followed unceasingly through youth, manhood, and old
age?

I recur to this favourite text by way, in this chapter, of
advice to beginners and a little confidential talk with the
novice reader. Suppose he is to ride to hounds to-morrow
for the first time; there will be some things he ought to
do, and more that he ought not. Some of the things I
have reminded him of already in a general way are consid-
ered of sufficient importance to be repeated here. The
chapter by no means comprises the whole list of things he
ought or ought not to do, but only the mistakes a beginner
is most likely to fall into.

Of course he will dress well. An affected disregard for
dress on such occasions is even more vulgar than foppish-
ness. If he must wear spurs, let him use them only in case
of emergency. The better a man's horsemanship, the less
use he has for spurs. If his experience is mine he will
find his horse going much better, jumping much more col-
lectedly, more intelligently, and with less fatigue if spurs
never touch him, especially at a jump. Also I should say
to him, don't wear a new pair of gloves, and don't carry a
new hunting-crop. The former is uncomfortable, and, with
the latter, makes one look too specially " gotten up." His
dress, however neat or expensive, should have the stamp of
utility.

Don't ask the Master, the huntsman, or the whippers-in, at
the meet, what covert they are going to draw. They never

2 8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound

like to be questioned on this subject or any other pertain-
ing to the hunt.

Don't ride through any coverts or fields at all in going
to the meet. A day's sport may be spoiled by setting the
foxes on foot in the very wood the Master intends to have
drawn.

Don't call a hound a dog. There could hardly be a worse
offence in the opinion of the Master or huntsman. ** What
a pretty lot of dogs ! " said a novice from Boston to our
Master, one day at the meet. "They are" — looking
them over critically — " the best lot I have ever seen
together ; ought to send them to the Show."

"What dogs do you refer to?" asked the Master, who
was at the moment standing by his mount, with twenty-
odd couple of his best hounds about him, preparatory to
going to covert.

" Why, these dogs ; the ones you chase the fox with."

" Oh, you mean the hounds^' replied the M.F.H., with
a coldness that would have frozen ice-cream, and with a
strong emphasis on the word hounds. " Hounds hunt the
fox. The chasing is done by the rider s.'' Most masters
are very touchy on this point.

Neither speak of a hound as being pretty. He is beauti-
ful, if you like, but only ladies are permitted to call him
pretty — and such ladies only as can lay claim to that dis-
tinction themselves.

Don't ride near the hounds. Shun them when you are
on horseback as you would Satan himself. If they over-
take you riding to covert, go quickly to one side and let
them pass. Remember that this is the greatest offence a

I

Horse Companionship 281

rider to hounds can commit. I have heard such offenders
given the severest verbal drubbings I ever listened to. I
remember hearing a perfect climax of rage and fury in this
respect once at a meet in England, when one of these jeal-
ous hard-riding scoundrels actually ran his horse into a hound
at the covert-side. The Master jumped off his horse. He
could evidently deliver himself better standing. " Take
yourself out of the hunt!" he cried. "You did this same
thing once before. I ought to throw you into the river.
Hounds running ? You are a liar, sir ! " (The fox had
been viewed away, but hounds were not yet on the line.)
" You fool ! You don't know enough to be out hunting.
You don't know enough to know when hounds are run-
ning. Pay for the hound ? You insulting puppy, you
have n't money enough to compensate for the injury to that
poor hound." (Two men were carrying the howling
hound to a friend's carriage.) " Get out of my sight, you
miserable good-for-nothing, and all your kind. Go hire a
race-track and ride your fill. You don't know the ABC
of hunting, and you never will. Leave my sight and this
field instantly, sir, or the hounds go straight back to ken-
nels. This is your second offence, sir, inside of a fortnight.
You can't hold your horse ? Then shoot him, sir ! Such
brutes ought never to be permitted to come hunting.
Any one but a fool would have had sense enough to know
it. Go home and shoot him. And then shoot yourself
rather than again be seen in a hunting-field. You are dis-
graced for life. You and all your kind are the curse of
hunting. You kill sport. You know neither how to
hunt nor how to ride." — It was quite the worst talk-

282 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ing to a man ever got, but the Master was perfectly justi-
fied. There were probably a dozen more " threshing
scoundrels " who were getting the lecture second-hand.
A story is told of an M.F.H. who used to ask his second
whipper-in to ride up close to some rider who had offended
against this " holy law," whereupon the Master would give
the whipper-in a stiff scolding for having done what the
rider could not then fail to see he had done himself.
When a man rides near hounds he runs them " of^ their
noses." They are looking behind to keep out of his way.

The value of hounds in the eyes of the Master and hunts-
man cannot be estimated in dollars and cents. The loss of
a hound in this way is most discouraging to a Master who,
as is often the case, owns the hounds and feeds and cares
for them at his own expense. The expenses of a first-class
hunt establishment in England amount to something like
two thousand dollars a hunt week.* Picture, then, the
feelings of an M.F.H. who sees a thoughtless, heedless
rider spoiling sport. Is it any wonder he loses patience
and his temper as well ? The one great drawback to hunt-
ing, the one thing above all others that gives the Master
annoyance, is the jealous riding man. Men who are out
to cut down the field are the principal offenders in this re-
spect.

Don't ride up to the huntsman or whippers-in on the
way to covert unless you are asked. Keep away.

Don't call the whipper-in a whip. It is as bad as to
call Mr. Soper Soap. —

* The Master of the Grafton hounds receives in subscriptions ^8000, and has to
add to this sum out of his own pocket ;^3000 annually to make up the deficit.

Horse Companionship 28 2

"Hello, Whip; where are you bound for?" No answer.
" I say, Whip, where are you going next ? " " I beg
pardon, sir; I thought you were addressing your remarks
to your hunting-crop," comes the reply at last.

Don't ask questions as to what is to be done next. You
are out not to chase a ball across a field, but to /iu?2t.
It is passing strange that some men never see the thing in
this lieht. It is as rude to ask a huntsman what he is
going to do next as it would be to lean over the shoulder
of a professional chess-player and ask him what move he is
going to make next. The probabilities are the huntsman
does not know himself; if he did, he would not be hesitat-
ing. He may be waiting for some hounds that are left in
covert, and if he should answer the question he might be
asked next how it happened the hounds were left. How
many times has one seen a huntsman move out of a rider's
way whom he saw approaching with questions in his eye !
"Won't you have a cigar, huntsman?" said a novice
once in my hearing. The huntsman of course does n't like
to be rude, but such a thing can annoy him wonderfully.
Fancy a huntsman smoking a cigar while hunting a fox !

Don't take any man who is out for the ride for your
pilot, nor the huntsman nor whippers-in. The first sees
little and cares less for the hunting, being there only to
outride some other hard rider; and the huntsman or
whippers-in would be seriously annoyed. Let the pack be
your pilot; keep the hounds in sight. If they turn right
or left you are in the best possible position to cut corners,
fences permitting. You will see everything and be in at
the death with a single horse, while the hard-riding men

284 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

have seen little or nothing of the game and have done their
second horse to a turn.

Ride always to save your horse. That is horsemanship.
It is far more to your credit to come in to the death with a
comparatively fresh horse, having ridden the line, than to
do the first flight or steeplechase act. Riding a steeple-
chase between the fags is one thing. Fox-hunting is another
thing altogether. If you have no interest in anything but
the galloping part of the game, join a drag-hunt or hire a
race-course and have done with it. You can hardly please
the Master or huntsman more than to keep out of the
game altogether. You might as well, in playing base-ball,
take no interest in the game apart from racing the other
fellows round the bases for the home plate. The principle
would be precisely the same.

Don't take it upon yourself to advise a huntsman, even if
you feel sure he is going wrong. Let him manage the
hounds to suit himself. When the game is over, look him
up and ask him why he drew one covert up-wind and the
next one down, or any other question you like. You will
be surprised at his wonderful fund of woodcraft, and will
find that he is as ready to talk to you now as you are to
listen. You will probably see that had he done what you
thought he ought to have done, he would have lost his
fox. He generally knows all that you do and a great deal
more. Never presume to advise in the field ; even the
Master of Hounds himself never meddles with the game
after hounds throw off. "I think the huntsman is wrong
this time," you may say to the Master. " I think so myself,"
says the Master, "but he is hunting the hounds, and we

Horse Companionship 285

must let him and the hounds cipher it out in their own
way."

Don't lark your horse over fences in the presence of the
hunting-field. It is the work of a horse-dealer, or a very
swell-headed rider who wishes to display himself.

Don't ride about on a steaming horse anywhere near
hounds when at a check. The perspiring horse will foil
the line for rods about. Jump off, if only for a minute,
and rest your horse. Think how it would be with your-
self, carrying even a very light parcel, if you could not
change it to the other hand or set it down a moment. It
may seem strange to some of my readers that I should men-
tion so evident a fact, but city men as a rule are great
offenders in just these nice points of horsemanship.

Don't allow your horse to rush his fences if it is within
your power to control him. If you cannot hold him, sell
him, or send him to the plough. Such a horse has no
business in the hunting-field. It is a sure sign of funk in
yourself or your horse, or both. Perhaps he is not properly
ridden, as I suggested before, and his rushing comes from
the punishment you give him by pulling at his mouth or
spurring him at every jump. In any case, it is probably
the rider's fault.

Don't follow some daredevil rider over barbed-wire
fences or any other unreasonable obstacles. He has done
it to show off. Either his hunting-flask put him up to it,
or he is one of those empty-headed fellows who court
admiration. It is as vulgar as it is unhorsemanlike. You
had better be called a coward by all such fellows than an
*' empty-headed ass " by the Master. I have said so much

2 86 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

about giving your horse his head at his jumps that I need
only remind you here that it is the highest accomplishment
in the art of cross-country riding to have so perfect a seat
that you can give your horse freedom of his head at his
jumps. Don't be discouraged. Keep at it, and ever at it,
until you succeed. No man can ever hope to become thor-
oughly proficient in cross-country riding until he can ride a
horse over jumps entirely independent of the bridle-reins.
If you forget everything else this book contains, remember
this.

Don't forget to bring your best manners with you into
the hunting-field. No matter what your station in life
may be, when you are playing the game put yourself on a
level with the humblest member. Among sportsmen play
a sportsman's game. Snobbishness in the hunting-field is
disgusting.

Don't neglect to say a kind word to the farmers. Take
oflTyour hat to any man in the game who shows a better
seat, better hands, or better horsemanship than your own.
You need not be surprised to find such a man riding in a
rusty coat, a sportsman indeed, and your superior at the
game. If you are a true sportsman too, you will be the
first to acknowledge his superiority. Let not the novice
follow the snob's too common example in the hunting-
field. After once visiting a neighbouring hunt club he
should desire to be thoroughly welcomed by every member
when he comes again.

Don't be seen pulling at your flask : it causes uncompli-
mentary remarks, especially if you get a fall afterward.

Don't offer it to a brother sportsman ; it may mean a

Horse Companionship 287

drop too much. Jumping-powder makes the reckless fool-
hardy. The worst accident I ever saw in the hunting-
field was the result of one flask rider daring a rider with an
empty flask to jump a picket fence on the road home after
a severe run to hounds. " Good ! I '11 go you for a fiver.
Go ahead." Over went the leader, his mount rapping the
fence heavily with every leg. After him went Empty-flask,
against every one's remonstrance, setting both rowels into
his horse's sides as he reached the fence. We held our
breath till he should be over. But no ! Empty-flask's
stimulus had done its work, and its effects were on the
wane. With a sluggish swerve of the body forward and a
violent pull at the bridle-reins to regain his position, the
wicked spurs fairly doubled and shut his horse up instead of
extending him. Smash ! went the fence, the horse taking
it breast-high. Smash ! went Empty-flask headlong to the
ground in a soggy, senseless heap, and there lay till his
mount turned a complete somersault upon him, and began
threshing wildly with his legs, the unconscious rider's spurs
digging into him at every move.

*' The spurs did it," said one.

" His horse was done," said another. ** Reaction against
too much stimulants," was what they thought.

" I '11 never offer a flask to a man in the hunting-field
again as long as I live," said the fallen rider's friend.

" You don't mean to say he was drunk ? "

"No; only the stimulant had shot its bolt. It was a
broken leg for a drop too much." —

Don't scold a groom in the presence of a third person.

Don't lose your temper with any horse, no matter what

288 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

he does. If he gets out of patience, it is nine to one the
fault is with yourself. If he does n't know how, send
him to school. If he can't or won't learn, send him to the
plough.

Don't take the least advantage of your mount. There
must never be any question of your right to govern, but the
man that governs least is best obeyed.

Don't ask a horse to do fractions until he can add and
subtract.

Don't mount any horse, for any purpose, until you have
examined the set of his bridle and bits. Grooms are care-
less about not altering bridles to fit different horses. See
that the snaffle is just low enough not to wrinkle the lips,
and that the curb hangs easily and naturally below it.
Look to the curb-chain and keep it well let out. Nine
grooms out of ten get it too short. Look to the throat-
latch ; let it out so that there is no question of its not being
perfectly loose ; and treat the nose-band in the same way.
These are little things, but they annoy a sensitive high-bred
horse and make him irritable and cross with you. It is
too bad to spoil a good day's sport for a good man and a
good horse simply because the bridle does n't fit. With a
cold-blooded draught-horse it may make little difference,
but a high-bred horse, especially if he is a little over-fit, is
as sensitive as a baby to pain or discomfort. You would
not be comfortable yourself with a collar-button rasping
your neck.

Don't have your girths too tight at first. This is another
point where grooms are commonly at fault. A tight girth
irritates some horses, and you upset their tempers and get

Horse Companionship 289

into a fight with them before you are fairly started. If
the horse is light-waisted, ride him with a hunting breast-
strap. When you reach the covert-side, take your girths
up a hole, if necessary, while sitting in the saddle.* If your
mount has the proper conformation you need have little
fear of a saddle turning.

Don't choke yourself with a stock, a tight-fitting coat or
boots. These things make the man cross, and the horse
generally has to suffer for it.

Don't neglect to give your stirrup-leathers a good twist-
ing before you mount, so that the stirrup, when in position,
instead of hanging flat against the horse's side, hangs at right
angles to it, with a straight opening for your foot. It
looks better, feels and is better. (See page 109.)

Don't ride in a knee-padded saddle, or one with a flask- or
sandwich-case fastened to it. They are more or less in the
way, and the pad and flask prevent an easy return to your
seat if you are thrown on to your horse's neck. The flap-
ping sandwich-case also cannot but be a source of annoy-
ance to the horse.

Don't buy a thick padded saddle that sits high up on your
horse. Get one as thin as possible, and stuffed with real hair.
The nearer you can get your seat to the horse, the better.
You will be surprised, if you have always ridden on a thick
saddle, to note how much easier you ride on a thin one, espe-
cially if you ride by balance. There should be little or no
padding whatever under the flaps of the saddle; a thick piece
of pigskin under the girth-buckles is quite sufficient. Half
or three quarters of an inch makes a wonderful difference.

* See illustration, page 109.

290 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

We have left one of the most important "don'ts" to the
last: Don't ride a horse a rod with a perfectly slack rein,
no matter if you are tired and the horse is too. This is a
very common error. Instead keep always a light touch on
his mouth. In this way, after you have ridden even a
tough-mouthed horse at a walk as well as at a trot, you will
be surprised to note that he will soon begin to answer to a
very light pull, and finally that an almost imperceptible
touch of the reins will guide him. Horses get the notion,
if you ride them with a slack rein at a walk or slow trot
and take them by the head when going fast, that the slack
rein means to go slow and the pull back to go ahead —
just the contrary of what you really intend. This style of
riding is of course, therefore, the best way to turn horses
into pullers, and is one of the worst habits a rider can
get into. For the same reason don't let your hands
drop stationary in your lap. Give your wrists perfect free-
dom to enable you to keep a uniform touch, which, of all
things, a horse seems to prefer you to do. If you have
been in the habit of riding with your hands rigid you will
be surprised to notice what a give and take your hands
must make to follow the natural oscillation of a horse's
head. Nothing you can do will improve your own hands
more than to ride horses when at walk, and at all times, for
that matter, in this style. Practise on the way to the meet
and covert, especially when walking a horse ; try with the
least amount of effort possible to make him cross to the
other side of the road and back, or move from the road to
a side-path. You will find in time you have made a most

Horse Companionship 291

wonderful change both in the horse's mouth and in your
hands.

Any one of these ** don'ts," taken separately, sounds insig-
nificant ; but the neglect of them in the aggregate ruins a
horse. Attention to these little things makes the finished
rider.

XXVI
THE CONSULTATION OF WAR

" And now, brother sportsman, go home to your rest,
And dream of the chase till the morn ;
Ride on in your sleep o'er the fields of the west.
The vale that puts rider and horse to the test.
And follow the hound and the horn."

POEMS IN PINK

XXVI
THE CONSULTATION OF WAR

ARRANGING FOR A DAy's HUNTING AN ELABORATE PREPARATION

OLD SIMPSON AT WORK

UNTING," says the immortal Jorocks, ** is
the image of war without its guilt." Few
persons indeed realise the preparation and
strategy necessary to a day's hunting — the
neglect of which would soon bring the hunt to the end of
its popularity. The idea that a fox-chase consists simply
in the coming together of a lot of riders who go to a
covert, start a fox, and race him to death, is one that any
real acquaintance with the sport speedily dispels. I have
attempted, perhaps with some success, to show what is
involved in the establishment and maintenance of a well-
organised hunt. I come now to the preparation for a day's
sport, in which the general and his aide lay plans and plots
for the ensuing engagements.

It is the evening before the day of a meet. Weeks earlier
it has been determined where the meets shall be for the month,
and printed notices to that effect have been sent to all the
members and farmers and patrons in the county. The Hall,
where the Master resides, is of course filled with guests,

295

296 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

themselves full of merriment and expectation. After din-
ner the Master excuses himself, and is soon closeted with
the huntsman, who has come in to discuss plans for the
morrow. The county map is taken down, and also a map
which the Master has had specially made, on which is
marked every farm, lane, woodland, ravine, or brook in the
neighbourhood. With these spread before them, and the
Master's note-book at hand for reference, the two proceed
to work. The note-book is a complete chronicle of past
events, giving a history of every run, and a record of the
participants in it, and of every covert drawn for years past
— a regular log-book, in fact, and most indispensable it is,
too. The Master opens the consultation.

" Well, Huntsman," he says, *' what do you think of
drawing the Maple Ravine ? Or shall we try the Peters
gully ? We had a capital run from there last year."

" Please yourself," replies the huntsman, who has reasons
of his own for not drawing either place, but is politic
enough not to advance his own preferences. He will let
the Master draw these out of him to suit himself.

" On some accounts," says the Master, '* I prefer the
Springer woods to either. You see, we shall have some
followers out with us to-morrow from the Blanck Hunt, and
they 're said to be devils to ride. I should like to give
them a ride across some of our great grass meadows. We
might draw the woods behind Parker's. Or what about
Johnston's ravine, with a chance of a run over Burden Flats?"

" The flats have been planted with beans this year,"
says the huntsman, " and the recent rains will make the
going awfully slow."

The Consultation of War 297

" It would serve some of those jealous riders right if they
had to go slow for once," comments the Master ; " only
they would kill their poor horses."

" How about the ridge road at Fur Forks ? " asks the
huntsman, now coming forward with his own plans. " Old
Simpson " — our old friend the earth-stopper — " says there
are two litters of foxes up there, and the farmers are
anxious for you to give them a dusting."

" That 's a fact," agrees the Master. " We ought to go
there. Mrs. Jenks wrote me yesterday that she had lost
some of her chickens. They were struck by lightning,
most likely. Foxes don't kill chickens, you know ; at
least, not in their own neighbourhood."

" The going will be good up there on the high ground,"
suggests the huntsman, who probably has seen the farmer
and knows that the litter has been carefully preserved for
the hunting season.

" That 's a fact," says the Master. " The trouble is, Mrs.
Whirler is coming out to-morrow with a four-in-hand and
a party of friends. She and a dozen more have written to
say they are bringing friends, and hope they will be able to
see some of the run from the highway. The ridge is alto-
gether too rough for four-in-hands, or for any other kind
of driving, for that matter."

So every covert for three miles about the place of meet-
ing is gone over, pros and cons carefully compared. Finally
it is decided to draw the Benson Wood, and, failing that,
the Peler ravine. By this time, thinks the Master, the
coaches will have turned back, and, if there is still time,
the hounds may be taken to the ridge road.

298 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

After this much of the programme has been decided
upon, the best ways of drawing each covert are discussed.
The Master next goes over his list of hounds, making
selections with a view to uniformity of size especially, for
he wishes to display his beauties to the best possible advan-
tage before the visitors next day. Then they decide which
horse the Master shall ride, and which for his second mount.
The huntsman also makes his selection, and decides upon
the mounts for the whippers-in. There are, further, three
or four mounts to be provided for guests — ladies, perhaps, as
well as men. These selections must be carefully based on
what the Master knows of the riding of each guest. All
this takes time, the list being changed and changed again.
In addition, two or three carriages are to be provided for
ladies and guests who do not ride, together with the inci-
dental question of who is to drive them.

Already the consultation has consumed an hour or possi-
bly two, and the business is only begun. The huntsman
has yet to go to the kennels, and wake up old Simpson the
earth-stopper, and explain the programme to him ; and to
see the kennel huntsman and give him the list of hounds
that are to go out to-morrow. This must be known the
night before, so that their next morning's feeding may be
regulated accordingly, either very light or none at all, de-
pending on the time of the meet and the distance from the
meet to the covert. From the kennels the huntsman must
turn to the stables, and go carefully over the programme of
horses with the head coachman. The whole train must
be carefully laid.

By the time the Master and his guests are saying their

o

o

X3

o

O

o

The Consultation of War 299

good nights, old Simpson the earth-stopper, last but not
least, is saddling his pony, and before they are asleep is
grumbling to himself along the highway, his lantern on his
arm and shovel strapped to his back, while his faithful lit-
tle terrier Skip trots along behind him for company. *' Why
do they want to draw the Benson Wood and then go 'way
off to the ridge road?" he grumbles. "Just to make me
as much work as they possibly can, I suppose. And after
it is all done they may never go nigh the ridge. Fox-
hunting ain't what it used to be when I was a boy."

So he goes along, scolding to himself. Sometimes he
tells his troubles to the pony and Skip, who, though they
may both sympathise with him, are powerless to change
the general's commands. " I have a mind not to go a
step," he says to the pony.

Yet if you should meet him two hours later, going along
some dreary bye-road in the dark windy night, and say,
" Hello, Simpson ; is n't this rather rough on a man of your
age?" he would not agree at all.

** Oh, nonsense ! " he would retort. " I could give any of
the boys a hard day yet if they tried to follow me"; and then
he begins to tell some appallingly long story about his
prowess at the battle of Gettysburg. Or if you should say,
meeting him some cold, rainy night crossing your farm on
his white pony like a ghost, *' Well, uncle, have n't they
some younger man to do this work ?"

" Not a man on the place knows enough to do my
work," would be the quick reply.

To hear him grumble and growl before he gets under
way, you might suppose him the most abused man on the

300 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

place ; but if you should utter one protesting word against
the Master you would think the old man again in the
battle of Gettysburg, in the thickest of the fight, so hot
would be his defence. Good old Simpson ! When he dies
every true sportsman will mourn his loss.

XXVII
THE MEET

** What a fine hunting day! as balmy as May,
And the hounds to the village will come.
Every friend vv'ill be there, and all trouble and care
Will be left behind them at home.

**See the servants and steeds on the way.

And sportsmen their scarlet display.
Let us join the glad throng that goes marching along.

And we all will go hunting to-day."

HUNTING SONG

XXVII

THE MEET

THE M.F.H. AS HOST IN DISCHARGE OF HIS SOCIAL DUTIES

INTRODUCING A FEW FRIENDS

I HE meet to-day is at, say, the Master's house ;

time, half-past ten ; the hour for going to

covert, eleven.

During the preliminary minutes the guests
saunter about the grounds or visit the stables to look to the
condition of their mounts. The great dining-hall is open
to all who come, its hospitable board laden with choice
joints of cold meats, salads, and fruits, and decorated with
rare plants and flowers. The sideboard is a forest of bottles;
beer, wine, champagne, sodas, or milk are there for one's
choice.

Before long the members begin to arrive, leaving their
horses in the first empty stall or box they come to, from
which the Master has had his own horses removed to make
room for them. You may see their riders presently going in
couples across the beautiful lawn toward the house to pay
their respects to the Master, and have, as the Scotch say,
*' a wee nip" before going to covert. Soon a steady pro-
cession of carriages and pedestrians is moving up the drives

303

304 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

and walks. Lest any of the country members perhaps hesi-
tate to enter the house, either the Master himself, or a friend
or guest assigned to the duty, goes about among them, mak-
ing hospitably sure that no shy stranger goes away unbidden.
Mrs. Whirler drives up with her coach and four, loaded to

its utmost capacity with visiting friends. Mr. H comes

surging around the curve of the drive with a six-in-hand
to his old mail-coach, at the same time that a sporty young
man lands a smart tandem across the green. It is all a
most engaging medley — four-in-hands and farm-waggons,
tandems and butchers' carts, spider phaetons and buck-
boards, friends, neighbours, tenant-farmers, visitors, villagers,
and a dozen families or more, with their guests, who have
moved into the valley for the hunting season.

Having welcomed the guests who have come to the
house, the Master, some little time before eleven, hurries out
for a word with any who are unable or disinclined to
leave their mounts or carriages. The first one to greet him
is Daisy Mulford, mounted on her half-bred pony. Miss
Daisy lives some seven miles away.

*' Oh, Miss Daisy," says the Master, affably, " pleased
to see you out to-day ! How are your father and mother?
Your old pony looks keen as ever."

Daisy, who has been going over and over again in her
mind just how she shall say something she has meant to
say, summons up her courage, as the Master is about to
pass on, and ventures a query.

" When are you going to have a meet at our farm ? " she
asks.

" Well, I hardly know. Are there any foxes down
there .? We have had some capital runs from your place."

"^■jg* w^ 1

>

Q

c

O

The Meet 305

" Yes," answers Daisy; ** Mamma says she thinks there
are, because our hens have been going lately." Then, for
fear the Master may think perhaps she is hinting for com-
pensation, she hastens to add : " We 're not sure that any
fox has taken them. Papa says it 's probably a skunk, or
perhaps the Italians working in the gravel-pit near our
farm."

" Give my compliments to your father and mother, Miss
Daisy," says the Master. " I will send the huntsman over
there to look into the matter. Meantime you might ride
your pony about the coverts and see if you can locate an
open earth. If you can't we shall have to turn the pack
on the Italians. You shall be my whipper-in or the hunts-
man, whichever you prefer!" — with which the Master
lifts his hat and passes on. Mrs. W with her four-in-
hand enjoys not even a taste of the pleasure that fills Miss
Daisy's heart this day.

" Good morning, William," says the Master, next, to a
farmer's son on a long-tailed four-year-old colt. " What 's
that you are riding to-day, my lad .? "

" Oh, that 's the colt."

The Master does not seem to understand.

" The colt out of old Jane," adds the boy.

** You don't say so ! " The Master looks him hastily
over. " Surely he is the right stamp. What was his
sire f

" Why, your thoroughbred stallion Devil-to-Pay."

" Is that a fact .? Well, he can't help being the right
sort, can he ? And he is in good hands, no mistake. You
always give him his head at his jumps, don't you, and bring
him to his fences well in hand, with his hocks well under

3o6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

him ? Right, my boy." Then he leans forward and
whispers, " Don't you think your curb-chain is rather
tight?" And then aloud, "What 's the name of your
colt ? "

** Devil-to-Pay Second," comes the quick reply.

The Master turns away laughing. " Smart lad, that,"
he thinks. " He has the making of a sportsman." And
the boy, on his part, has received a valuable lesson in horse-
manship. Delivered in a tactful and sportsmanlike manner,
it sinks deep into his mind.

Up comes Miss Frances in a two-wheeled pony-trap, a
sweet girl of sixteen from Rochester. *' Oh, Miss Fran-
ces ! Delighted! How smart you look in that new
hunting-frock ! Dear me, you will be breaking the hearts
of all my young men. How can they chase foxes when
you are in sight ? "

"Oh, but you 're a taffy-giver!" laughs Miss Frances.

"That hard-riding boy Arthur, they tell me," con-
tinues the Master, imperturbably, "has already cut the other
fellows out."

"Now don't you make any mistake, Mr. Master" —
with a great show of indignation. " He is too shy a rider
to catch anything — I mean — "

" What, ho, there! " laughs the Master. " Has his fox
slipped covert or have you come to a check ? My word
for it, Arthur is a fine chap. Give the boy a chance to
view you away. The trouble is, the other fellows have
foiled your line."

" I should like to beat you ! " cries Miss Frances, red-
dening and shaking her pretty fist with a great exhibition

The Meet 307

of earnestness. What she really means, as one may see by
the look of her eyes, is something quite different.

Follow the Master, and you will see him next taking off
his cap to an old dame and her two daughters on the back
seat of Farmer Sykes's democrat. Farmer Sykes is on the
front seat with a couple of sturdy boys, also of the Sykes
persuasion.

" Good morning, Mrs. Sykes. And how are you, James?
Any foxes up your way ? "

" Oh, yes," says Farmer Sykes. *'A vixen has laid up
her cubs in that old earth in the spring lot by the thorn-
apple tree. They must be very fit, too, I 'm a-thinking,
for my misses declares the mother has been feeding on her
prize Plymouth Rock pullets all summer. If you don't
come up and bustle them about a bit pretty soon, they '11 be
so fat they can't run."

"I '11 be up there," says the Master, — and he makes a
memorandum in his note-book, — " and give them such a
dusting as a fox never had before in his life. I suppose
you 've no objection to our hunting over your farm, Mr.
Sykes?"

*' Not a bit. Come as often as you like. Kill your fox
in the parlour if you want to. A little blood would do
the old carpet good. My misses was saying only the other
day it was getting awfully faded."

"All right, James ; but," with a sly look at the two Miss
Sykeses on the back seat, "I think I had better send some
of these two-legged hounds to do the hunting in the par-
lour." And the troubles of the Sykes family — bad crops,
an overdue bank-note, the drought, and the grasshoppers

3o8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

— are forgotten for the rest of the day, thanks to a
pleasant word.

"Who wouldn't take a puppy," says Mrs. S., "for such
a nice gentleman ? "

" Who would n't protect an earth with a litter of foxes
for such a man ?" says her worthy spouse.

A young man from Boston, the hard-riding lad Arthur,
of whom the Master spoke, catches his eye.

" Hello, Arthur ; what 's the matter ? You look sober.
Did the boys do you at cards last night ? Why the deuce
are you not looking after Miss Frances, you rascal ! Last
week, if I wanted to find you, I simply had to look for her."

"Oh, pshaw! It 's all up with me," Arthur answers,
hardly.

"The deuce it is ! I know a thing or two. By the way,
I 'm asking her mother to bring Frances over to dinner on
Wednesday. You are going to be my guest that day."

-But I — "

" Not a word, sir. I '11 entertain mamma, and you
shall have everything your own way, old boy ! There !
Ride to your own line, and don't forget your failings.
Hold hard ! Hold hard ! And may the Lord have mercy
on your soul ! "

The Master notes that the hour of eleven is at hand, and
prepares to mount his faithful old hunter, the Sheik. Just
then, however, he spies, standing aloof from the others and
half hidden by the great clump of evergreens, looking quite
sad and unhappy, a villager who for a good many years
has ridden to hounds as often as he can leave his business
in town. Gossip says Villager's wife has been flirting with

The Meet 309

a married man from a neighbouring town for several years,
and he has had more than one good word of advice and
comfort from the Master. Mrs. V. has lately taken her
departure from home, and suspicion is great. Only the
Master of all those present knows Villager's secret. The
two men shake hands.

"Any news. Villager?"

" No," comes the sad reply.

" I am sorry for you ! " says the Master, still holding him
by the hand. With another warm pressure of the hand, he
hurries on.

Villager bites hard against his lip. His face hardens,
and he reins his horse farther back into the evergreens,
brushing away a tear with the back of his hand.

But by now it is almost eleven, and every one not yet
mounted prepares to mount. Toot-toot ! goes the horn, and
soon a long cavalcade is getting into shape to jog along to
covert.

XXVIII
RIDING TO COVERT

** See, the pack are game and sprightly,
Oh, they tread the road so lightly !
O'er each wilful face uplifted
Thoughts of sport have sweetly drifted.
And I hear the rustling music of their feet upon the way."

RHYMES IN RED

XXVIII
RIDING TO COVERT

MOUNTING FOR THE START A RIDER IN A FIGHT WITH HIS

HORSE MRS. SO-AND-SO AND OUR HUNTSMAN POSITION

^T lacks but five minutes of the hour. The
cracking of the whipper-in's thong an-
nounces the approach of the hounds from
the kennels.

''Here they come ! Here they come ! " cries every one
to his neighbour, and the whole company turn like the
minor actors in a play to see the star of the performance
making his entrance upon the stage. " Here they come ! "
The huntsman, with twenty-odd couples of hounds trot-
ting beside his horse, rounds the bend in the drive, and the
admiring crowd stand back to admit them to the lawn.
Bowing to right and left, he greets everybody with a
face brimful of smiles and cheerfulness. The whippers-in
are looking very smart in their velvet caps, hunting-coats,
top-boots, and white breeches. Their saddle- and bridle-
irons are polished to the last degree, and everything about
them is scrupulously neat, yet at the same time most
businesslike. Their horses, like themselves, are well
groomed, and as fit and well-mannered as feeding and train-

313

3^4 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

ing can make them. You can tell with half an eye they
are very well bred and very fast. The hounds also, you
cannot but notice, in size, colour, and markings show evi-
dence of the carefulness of their selection. Altogether
they are the pride and admiration of all the hunt.

When the huntsman comes to a halt the crowd has
formed in a wide circle about him. Hunting men and
hound-fanciers are already discussing the points of the
hounds, and farmers and their wives and children are
pointing out what hounds they have had at their own farms
at walk, recounting their deviltries with real delight.
Occasionally a young hound recognises his country friends,
and trots over to them at the sound of their voices or upon
hearing them call his name. They may have come miles,
some of these people, just to have a word with the puppy
they "walked," and to see how he looks as a hound in such
grand company.

" Of all things ! " cries Mrs. Farmer. " Why, Puppy,
how you have changed ! When he left our place," she
will explain to whoever is standing near, " he was as fat as
butter, and now look at him. You can count every rib in
his body. Dear me ! he must have been homesick. He
has more muscle and I dare say he minds better, and all
that. But fancy his going out for a hard day's work with
no breakfast ! "

Villagers old and young fill out the circle, while first-
time visitors to the hunt look on in open-mouthed
wonderment.

Meanwhile the hounds are walking about the hunts-
man's horse, sitting on their haunches, rolling on the grass.

Riding to Covert 315

or lying at full length on the velvety turf. Some of the
younger hounds already are trotting about with nose§ down
and sterns waving, not having yet learned to husband their
strength.

"Back, Songstress; go back!" A crack of the whip-
per-in's thong within an inch of her side sends one of these
triflers to the ranks with stern down, very crestfallen.

"Do you see that hound by the huntsman's stirrup?"
asks a hunting friend of a stranger he has taken in hand,
" That 's Bluebells, the Master's favourite. Is n't she
great ? Her fling and drive in covert are something won-
derful. That big upstanding hound is Trumpeter, the best-
nosed hound in the pack. When he fails to follow a line
no other hound need make the attempt. That black-and-
tan bitch rolling on the grass is Quickstep — the most musi-
cal tongue you ever heard. Her voice is as clear as a bell.*'

"What hound is this?" asks a farmer of the huntsman.

" That 's Vagabond, by Vampire out of Quickstep."

" And this one ? "

"That 's Barmaid, by Villager out of Bonnie Maid."

" I want to know!" replies Mr. Farmer. " Looks just
like her old dad, don't she ? "

" Very much indeed," replies the huntsman, who might
have added that she also has inherited the vice of her
mother in giving tongue only as long as she can lead the
pack — a very jealous hound ; the moment she drops
behind she has no interest in the game.

So the talk and admiring comment run about the circle,
while snap shots without number are aimed at the picture.

It lacks two minutes of the hour. Toot-toot ! goes

3i6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the huntsman's horn, as a signal to mount. The stable doors
are thrown open, and a row of horses that have been sad-
dled and bridled and backed into their stalls are liberated
with a rattle and led smartly out upon the lawn. All is
bustle and confusion. Village boys and grooms, who have
been leading riders' horses aimlessly about, now bring them
forward. Riders are hurrying hither and thither across
the lawn in search of their mounts.

" What 's become of that blamed boy, I wonder ? "
queries one nervous man ; but no one is there to answer him.
Presently, however, the boy is spied, dragging his feet along
as if they were lead, and tugging at the bridle of a highly
bred horse that seems ashamed of being seen in such
uncouth company.

Another rider, in the excitement of the moment, fails to
recognise his own horse, which is standing just at his elbow,
and he calls like a cow that has lost her first-born among a
herd of strange cattle.

" Micawber ! I say, Micawber ! Where the — "

" Here, sir," says Micawber, giving the rider a touch
on the elbow.

" Oh, well, where the deuce have you been keeping
yourself all day ? " And without even a glance at bridle,
throat-latch, or girth, he hurriedly mounts. One might
have expected as much. The excited and blustering way
in which the gentleman mounts is of itself enough to put
the horse on his mettle. The rider is trying vainly to put
on his gloves ; the horse is eager to go on with the moving
hounds ; and a fight begins then and there between the
two. Which of the two is at fault ? It will be interest-

Riding to Covert 317

ing to watch them, for, if we mistake not, there is trouble
brewing for both.

The carriages manoeuvre to get into line. Expectancy,
animation, joy, light every face, excepting only our
novice rider, who looks very serious and a trifle bewildered.
Fortunately, however, he has mounted in time to avoid a
misunderstanding with his horse, though one must confess
he went about it in a mechanical sort of way, impelled
rather by some force outside of himself than by any obvious
free will.

The Master is most punctual ; there is no five minutes'
grace for late-comers. " Give them five and they will
want ten. No, sir ; not a minute," he declares.

The town clock strikes the last stroke of eleven. Aeain

o

the huntsman's horn is blown. It is the signal to move on
to covert.

Crack! The second whipper-in's thong rounds up the
scattering hounds to the huntsman's horse. Slowly the
cavalcade, headed by the huntsman and hounds, moves for-
ward, the first whipper-in riding ahead to the right, the
second whipper-in to the rear and left of the pack, or
in any place where he may be wanted to keep a lagging or
skulking hound in his place.

All round is gay, — men, horses, dogs, —
And in each smiling countenance appear
Fresh-blooming health and universal joy.

Following the hounds rides the Master, and to the right
and left, and following on behind, the riders by twos and
fours. Some drop back, others go forward to say a word

3i8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

to a friend, all rising and falling, falling and rising in their
stirrups to the trot-toe-trot, trot-toe-trot, of their well-man-
nered steeds.

One pathetic exception is our friend who put his horse
in a temper as he was mounting. He goes waltzing past
the crowd with his horse in a lather less than a hundred
rods from the meet. Pulling and sawing, tugging and
pulling his poor horse only makes a bad matter worse ; and
all for the want of being one minute calmer in mounting.

More comfortable riders take this opportunity for look-
ing about and counting up the riders — seventy-two in all,
including several ladies — or gossiping a bit on the way.

Who is that driving past the riders with her horses in a
gallop ?

" Oh, that 's Mrs. So-and-So. She knows the country,
and from the direction the hounds are taking she guesses
the covert they are headed for. She always waits until the
crowd is well on the way, then rushes past."

As a matter of fact, the lady asked the Master what
covert he was going to draw first. It was a little comedy
which did not escape a few of the knowing ones at the
start.

" Well, really," replied the Master, in his politest man-
ner, " you had better ask the huntsman."

Diverting her to the huntsman's track was a clever trick
indeed, in which he was justified, because he knew the
huntsman could cope with Mrs. So-and-So and her bab-
bling tongue. She is particularly fond of being the first to
whisper a matter to her intimates, and he is aware that by
the time hounds reach the covert to be drawn, if she car-

o

fc/3

Riding to Covert 3 1 9

ries her point, half a dozen carriages and as many road-
riders will have surrounded the wood in the best possible
positions, as they think, to see the find and start, and will
be sure to make the fox break covert before hounds reach
there or can station themselves in a position to head him
back.

Mrs. So-and-So, not being able herself to go to the
huntsman, asked an unsophisticated gentleman, eager enough
for a commission from the fashionable lady.

" Oh, Mr. Unsophisticated," she called to him. " You
are just the man I 'm looking for. Would you mind
doing me a favour ? "

" Most happy, I assure you," answered the delighted
gentleman. "Nothing could afford me — "

'* Just go out and say to the huntsman, Mrs. So-and-So
wishes to know as a special favour — as a special favour^
mind — what covert is to be drawn first. There 's a good
man. Never mind your hat."

" Delighted to obey your orders, Madame," said Mr. U.,
with an impressive bow. Then, later, to a farmer on the
edge of the circle, he said timidly, afraid to go in among
the hounds, " I should like to speak to the huntsman."

" Go right up to him, stranger. The hounds won't hurt
you," advised the farmer, knowing well what would
happen.

The messenger ventured in, but no sooner had he entered
an opening than the hounds surrounded him. First one and
then another poked a cold nose against his hand, which
jerked back as if it had touched a red-hot coal. Other
hounds, seeing a man throwing up his hands, thought they

3 20 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

were all to be rewarded with bread-crumbs, as the custom
is at the kennels when visitors call. Poor Mr. Unsophisti-
cated, unable either to go forward or go back, began to
dance and jump and gesticulate like one shooing a flock of
chickens. Everybody was soon laughing at the strange
figure he cut. Finally, upon the whippers-in coming to his
rescue, the hounds broke away, and the poor fellow man-
aged to work his way out, though his mission was yet
unaccomplished. He now made bold to deliver his mes-
sage to the huntsman from the circle, to the renewed
amusement of everybody.

" Really," was all the satisfaction he got out of the
huntsman, who had been caught with such chaff before,
" I have not consulted the Master about it yet this morning."

Thereupon the unsuccessful mercury rushed away to the
house amid shouts of laughter from the country people,
whose enjoyment of the city fellow's experience was
unconcealed. The huntsman's " yet this morning " saved
his reputation for the truth and pleased them hugely. It
was indeed a close shave, as one who was present at the
consultation of war will recall.

So Mrs. So-and-So, foiled again, waits until she sees the
direction hounds are taking, and rushes away past all the
riders, her horses on a run. Seeing this, the Master rides
alongside of the huntsman and says: "Try no covert where
drivers or townspeople are assembled."

This may upset all the well-laid plans of the night
before. Fox-hunting, as we have shown, is a game of plot
and counter-plot. The huntsman, a passed master in his art,
decides on a ruse that sends Mrs. So-and-So, and a dozen

Riding to Covert 321

others who follow her supposed leadership, to the Maple
Grove covert ; then, like a fox, he turns short back to the
Benson wood, and draws the covert as originally planned.
Master and huntsman exchange knowing smiles as they
meet again.

A little before the Benson wood is reached, the hunts-
man nods to the first whipper-in, who by a circuitous
route rushes off to take up his position on the side of the
covert opposite that on which it is to be drawn. His duty
there, as we have already shown, is to view the fox away.

At this point we can easily imagine the novice, who has
doubtless heard a deal of talk among riding men about
taking up the best position at the covert-side, asking where
he had better station himself. We have already shown
that foxes seek their food at night and sleep during the day.
They usually kennel early in the morning, selecting the
south or sunny exposure of the covert. But, since circum-
stances alter cases, should there be a breeze stirring at the
time, they are likely to lie up for the day on the windward
side, especially if they have reason to suspect danger from
that direction. Their personal comfort, in other words,
gives way to personal safety. Again, they may ignore both
wind and comfort, and kennel on the side of the covert
which is toward a farm-house where a dog is owned.
Foxes must do their own picket duty, and seem to manage
things so they may do this as much as possible while they
sleep, relying more on their wits and cunning to get them
out of harm's way, when they are warned of it, than on seek-
ing some secure and secluded spot in the heart of a forest.
If there is reason to believe a fox is to be found on the

XXIX
THE GAME ITSELF

3 22 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

south side of a covert, most huntsmen prefer to cast the
hounds in from the east or north or west, and hunt up to
him, giving him the least opportunity to dodge or hang
about before taking to the open. All this is a matter of
woodcraft, and the problem, one of the interesting moves
of the game, must be studied out by each rider for himself.

In approaching our covert to-day we notice that we do
so from the east, and that the wind is south. We are, that
is to say, starting with the general rule that the fox will
be found on the sunny side of the covert, and that since his
nature is to travel up-wind he will in this case break toward
the southward if the hounds are in the east to help him decide.
We cannot stop now to discuss the numerous other compli-
cations which may arise. The Master may prefer, for in-
stance, on account of the condition of the fields to the south
of the covert, to send the fox the other way out. Assum-
ing that everything is favourable, however, to the fox's
breaking south, our best station to get away with a good
start will be at the southeast corner. At the same time
we must be careful not to go beyond the corner, or we
may head the fox back into the covert again, which is a
thing no hunting man should ever be guilty of. Novice
had better not make too great an advance in that direction,
for the Master, who is himself setting the example of hold-
ing back, has an eye on all the forward riders, and a step
too far is sure to bring a reprimand. " Hold hard there,
Bayhorse ! Hold hard ! Do you want to head the fox
back to the covert ?"

We had better keep back, taking a position a very little
in advance of the Master himself; we must remember, as he

Riding to Covert 323

does, that foxes do not always kennel on the south side or
go away up-wind. Sometimes, indeed, it seems as if they
knew the general theory of hunting men in this regard and
kennelled for the day in a position to upset all their well-laid
plans. Position is really something that concerns the hard
riders more than it does the genuine hunting men. When
you get it right it is considered a great stroke of luck, and
when, as is often the case, you don't it is very hard
indeed.

The question of right position is an easier one after the
io^ has broken. After the first burst of speed, lasting, ac-
cording to the condition of the fox, for five or twenty-five
or even forty minutes, there is sure to be a check, and then,
as we have shown, he turns down-wind. For instance, he
goes away east and the wind is south. Then he is almost
certain to turn to the north, so as to run down-wind, and
if you wish to take advantage of him, your best position
will be to the north of his line. For my own part, I pre-
fer to take no position in advance of the Master at the
covert-side, and to follow the hounds, if I can, regardless
of wind. Should they get out of sight or hearing when
going east, for instance, the wind being south, I keep to
the north country, so as to have a ready view of them if
they make a turn that way themselves. For a hunting
man this is quite enough manoeuvring. A great many
times, too, riding men would be better off if they did not
undertake to anticipate the fox. But here we are at the
covert-side.

XXIX
THE GAME ITSELF

'♦ See, where they spread
And range around, and dash the glitt'ring dew.
If some stanch hound, with his authentic voice.
Avow the recent trail, the jostling tribe
Attend his call, then with one mutual cry
The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills
Repeat the pleasing tale."

SOMERVILLE

XXIX
THE GAME ITSELF

BREAKING COVERT FULL CRY THE CHECK THE RIDERS

THE DEATH

HE huntsman, without a moment's delay,
casts the hounds into the covert with a cheer.
The whipper-in goes over the fence beside
them, and the huntsman follows, whereupon
all the riders halt or begin to move to the south, the east,
or the northeast corner of the covert, according to their
several judgments of the way the fox is likely to break, or
their knowledge of the country. The thong of the
whipper-in keeps up a lively cracking to prevent hounds
from spreading too wide. The huntsman is cheering on
the pack, encouraging it to draw.

" Edawick ! Edawick ! Edawick ! Oust him ! Away
with him ! Rouse him ! Rouse him, my beauties ! "

How the hounds fling and drive, now halting in a cluster
with noses down and sterns waving, now scattering, now
on again, making good every yard of the way! Your
blood cannot help but tingle. Cigars and cigarettes are
thrown away. Another hasty glance at curb-chain and throat-

327

328 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

latch, a feeling of saddle-girths. Each horse has caught
the spirit and is as eager as the riders for the challenge.

See, the chestnut veins are swelling ;
In her neck the blood is welling !

Of what peculiar stuff must a man be made who is not
stirred at such sights and sounds as these ? It must be
something of the nature of putty. Yet there sits a chap
on a slab-sided, three-cornered rake of a thoroughbred,
lighting another cigarette and looking, or assuming to look,
as if the whole proceedings were a bore. He is talking to
another " chappy," telling him the latest morsel of gossip
from the club, probably, to show his indifference to the
game. One likes to believe that such a mien generally is
assumed, but it is not always. There are men who merely
act this role, and there are others for whom the part of a
drone is natural. The vacant, listless stare in the presence
of such stirring sights and sounds as these makes a man
look the idiot truly, creatures in whom our " higher " civ-
ilisation has bred out all the sporting instinct of their
fathers, fellows who are out to ride, and " if it were not
for the d dogs could have some fun."

All the hunting types are here. Look at that man on
the roan, shamelessly spurring his mount to make him jump
and rear just to show off; and the "swell" on a chestnut,
riding about among the crowd on the same errand. These
are the peacocks of the hunt. Again, that alert, nervous
chap on the black, edging his way to the southeast corner,
is out to cut down the field ; the horse he rides is a new

o

The Game Itself 329

one, a steeplechaser, just fast enough to be beaten between
the flags ; and he has it in for two or three fellow-riders,
no doubt, who have been leading the field. They are what
the Master calls " threshing scoundrels." Blackhorse
keeps on, and as he moves forward others follow — there
are always plenty to follow a foolish lead — till, just as we
expected, out comes a scolding from the Master: *' Hold
hard there, Blackhorse \ Hold hard, I say ! I beg of
you, gentlemen, give the fox a chance." They stop where
they are. Now our Master, whom we saw all smiles and
good cheer at the meet, is getting red in the face. He
wishes to the bottom of his heart the fox would break
north and leave these fellows hopelessly behind. Between
you and me, dear reader, I think this is one reason why
the huntsman does what he can to make foxes break in the
direction unexpected by the hunting-to-ride men.

A third-rate horse-dealer who has timed himself just
right comes dashing up. He has not come by way of the
lane as all the other riders have, but jumps his horse into
it, and, with a loud shout to some other rider, succeeds in
calling every one's attention to his arrival. **What do you
think of this one?" he inquires, loud enough for all to
hear. "The best one I ever owned !"

Some late-comers and farmers join the group, the latter on
"green uns " for their first introduction to hounds. They
follow for a few miles where the leaders have knocked the
top rails ofl^, and then retire.

Meantime the hounds have hunted through the covert
and are heard returning. Hark ! A challenge !

No ; it is only a new-entry hound giving tongue to

3 30 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

a rabbit and now getting a sound rating for his mistake
from the whipper-in. He goes ki-yi-ing back, with a
stinger from the whipper-in's crop that raises his hair.

The hunters shout ;
The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes ;
The pack, wide op'ning, load the trembling air
With various melody ; from tree to tree
The propagated cry redoubling bounds,
And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy
Thro' all the regions near.

Listen ! A whimper.

" Speak to it ! " cries the huntsman, as he sees his
favourite feathering wildly. " Speak to it. Quickstep ! "

But Quickstep will not tell a lie, no matter how much
the huntsman encourages her. Hearing this cheer to
Quickstep, several hounds rush to her side. Trumpeter among
the others; but even that great-nosed hound cannot hit it off.
They are most likely on the "drag " of the fox, that is, the
line he took when he entered covert early in the morning
on his way to kennel.

Then, cross-examining with curious nose

Each likely haunt — hark ! on the drag I hear

Their doleful notes, preluding to the cry.

They push, they drive, while from his kennel there

The conscious villain, see, he sulks along.

Another whimper. " Speak to it. Bluebells ! Speak to
it ! " cries the huntsman.

" Tally-ho, tally-ho ! Gone away, gone away, gone

The Game Itself 331

awayf" shouts the first whipper-in from the west side of
the covert. The great forest to the north repeats it in
echo — ** gone away, gone away — away ! "

Hats are rammed down a degree tighter. Horses, Hke
their riders, are hardly to be controlled. They rear and
break away like race-horses at the starting-post.

" Hold hard, I say, gentlemen ! You must hold hard ! "
bawls the Master. " Give the hounds a chance. I sav,
Blackhorse, look where you are going. Hounds are not
running yet." The Master loses his temper, and a lecture
is in pickle for some one. Have the blessed hounds gone
to sleep, we wonder? How the minutes drag between the
tally-ho gone away and the find !

Hark! a whimper — a challenge by Trumpeter, as we
know by the deep guttural voice, confirmed by Bluebells.
Half a dozen hounds rush to their sides. The huntsman,
with cap in hand, leans over his horse's withers, cheering
the hounds. "On, Bluebells ! On, good bitch ! " A little
farther, and Quickstep, who has rushed ahead, as she
always does, hits off the line, and, with one grand chorus
that fills the forest with its melody, the whole pack goes
streaming away like a flock of birds.

How low they stoop.
And seem to plough the ground ! Then, all at once,
With greedy nostrils, snuff the fuming steam
That glads their flutt'ring hearts. As winds let loose
From the dark caverns of the blust'ring god.
They burst away and sweep the dewy lawn.
The welkin rings ; men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods
In the full concert join.

33 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

The chase is on. "Now, lads, ride!"

Is n't it glorious, this first burst of speed on a horse that
is just a little above himself? No pen can ever hope to
describe it. It is as if the gods had given you wrings.
Hear the clamorous pack leading on, your horse scarcely
touching the turf as he races away, eager in pursuit. The
first few fences make us catch our breath, for our mounts
will take them flying, clearing them with feet instead of
inches to spare. Yet we must not, even in this moment of
exultation, forget our horsemanship. Allow no horse to take
liberties after the first fence or two. It is all very well to
let him rid himself of the superfluous kinks in his legs and
back and his surcharge of energy, rather than set up a fight
or ruffle his temper, but on no account must he be per-
mitted to shoot his bolt.

" What, a check so soon ? "

Yes, and very welcome. Let us stop where we are. If
it be a short turn back we are well enough where we
stand, or if the fox has already turned down-wind we
could not be in a better position. In that case the hounds
have only overshot the line and must come back to find
it. Let us dismount after the hounds have been per-
mitted to make their own cast and have failed. We must
keep an eye to them, however, and at the first symptoms of
a whimper be ready to mount.

Now the huntsman, seeing that the hounds do not find
the scent again by their own cast, lifts them smartly up-
wind, and, failing there, wheels them around down-wind with
a wide cast back ; and, sure enough, the leading hounds
begin to raise their hackles and wave their sterns. The

The Game Itself 333

deep-tongued Vagabond hits off the line, raises his head, and
gives a great shout. A dozen hounds rush past him, and
once more the distant woods reecho the joyous notes of
horn and hound. Away we go again. Now we have set-
tled down to business. There must be no more nonsense
now: not an ounce more of exertion than is absolutely
necessary must be taken from our horses. Steady, now, to
this first fence ! Take him well in hand from now on. It
is a question not so much of fast riding as of horsemanship.
That 's it ! Slow him down nearly to a trot. It 's a high
fence, and he no longer jumps higher than is necessary.
Good ! Well over, Novice. Yet not so with every one.
There is a great smashing of top rails, and four riderless
horses go racing away in the next field. Nobody is hurt,
luckily. One fellow has his silk hat knocked into an
accordion down over his ears and eyes, and is trying with
both hands to extricate himself from under it. Another is
chasing along across the field afoot, feeling very cheap
indeed, like a fellow running after an express-train. An-
other, whose white hunting-breeches have turned green, is
staring wildly about as if he were just recovering his senses,
not knowing whether he is awake or dreaming. Another
has crawled up on the fence, and sits there, digging the grass
and dirt out of his neck and ears, while he trusts to some
one else to catch his horse for him.

Four horses were seen in a terrible plight ;
Four riders were all more or less in a fi-ight.

At this juncture comes a check again. Now Renard
has in all probability turned, after a rest, and is headed for

3 34 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

the point he first planned to make before he broke covert.
In this case the check may be short, and we had better
remain mounted until we see how the hounds act. The
huntsman is hardly giving them time to make their own
cast; he is certainly in possession of some knowledge as
to Renard's game. Directly back he lifts them, and away
they go again over some good-scenting grass-fields.

The chorus swells; less various, less sweet
The thrilling notes when in those very groves
The feather'd choristers salute the spring,
And every bush in concert joins, or when
The master hand in modulated awe
Bids the loud organ breathe, and all the pow'rs
Of music in one instrument combine,
An universal minstrelsy.

So steady your horse again, and keep as much in reserve
as you possibly can. Only keep the hounds in sight. They
are the only pilot — unless you are a stranger in the coun-
try — worth looking after. What, a brook ? Now, then.
Novice, not too fast ! Steady to within the last few strides,
and hold him well in hand for a swerve or refusal. Good
enough ! You see, the energy you have been saving in
your horse stood him in well, and he cleared it with ease.

Check again. Splash! Splash! Co-souze ! — go half a
dozen riders into the brook. Every man of them raced at
it from twenty or thirty rods back.

There were eight of us at it, and seven got in.

What a sight ! One fellow is standing on the landing-side,
trying to pull his horse up by the bridle-reins. Another

The Game Itself 33^

rider stands dripping on the bank, while his horse is going
back the way he came. Another is off his horse and up to
his shoulders, wading in the stream, his hat floating away on
the current. Still another's horse braced his feet and bolted
on the bank, sending his rider head first into the brook, like
a boy from a spring-board.

In the meantime hounds have hit off the line again, and
away we go down-wind. Renard has come to the conclu-
sion that, plan or no plan, the thing for him to do is to save
his brush. Now he will go down-wind only so far as to
keep the hounds in hearing. The end is nearing. The
older hounds are driving to the front. Now is the time for
one to ride. Now comes the trying time, for when
Renard is nearly beaten then his cunning and craft are
brightest.

A check? No — yes! All but three hounds. Not a
moment is to be lost. Now must the huntsman ride ! A
sinking fox and a dying scent are before him. He urges
forward, leaving the whippers-in to come on with the pack.
Check again. The pack overtake the huntsman. Trump-
eter— where is Trumpeter? Bless that hound! He has
hit off the line with a short turn to the right. There goes
our fox, trailing his brush across yonder knoll. Now, lads,
ride! One more field! *'Hie! Hie! Hie!" shouts
every one, galloping over the knoll and down a gradual
slope. The fox is in one field, the hounds in the next, and
the riders that are left in the third. " Hie ! Hie! Hie ! "

Can Renard make his point, which seems to be a covert
several fields farther on ? On, hounds ! That covert con-
tains an open earth. Our horses can no longer answer to

3 3^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound

whip or spur. Still we are gaining. Quickstep is not a
rod behind Renard's brush. ''■Hie! Hie! Hie!'' shouts
every rider, in one mighty effort and final rally to hounds
and horse. " Whoop ! whoop ! " as the prowling chicken-
thief rolls over in the opening.

The huntsman jumps off his horse, takes the fox from
the hounds, and pockets the masks, pads, and brush. Then,
with a tooting of his horn, he calls the stray hounds and
riders in, and with " He was a jolly good fellow ! " Renard's
carcass is thrown high in the air, to light in the centre of
the snapping, snarling pack. " Break him, my beauties,
break him ! "

Meantime riders have dismounted. Some have thrown
themselves full length on the grass. Like their horses,
they are done to a turn. For you and me, Novice, let us
ease our saddle-girths and lead our mounts to a knoll
where they can get the refreshing air, while we tell them
they are the best in the stable, or at least give them some
worthy compliment on their endurance.

A lady rider. Miss Frances, whom we met at the
meet, is presented with the brush. Mr. Arthur, among
others, rides up to congratulate her, and the two ride off
together. The mask goes to a visiting gentleman from
Boston. Novice receives a pad. His friends surround
him and "blood" his face with it in due and ancient form.

And now we trot toward home in the wake of the
hounds, tired, but as happy as we are tired — all except the
jealous riders who have been cut out by Blackhorse.
The steeplechaser lately imported on the quiet from Canada
has done the job. Blackhorse, to be sure, is very fond of

It

The Game Itself 337

himself, but the four or live others whom he left behind
are wretched. So much to heart has one of them taken
his defeat that he declares " if he carn't buy something to
beat Blackhorse he will never come hunting again." On
the way home there is little to talk about ; only the horse-
dealer seems able to keep his tongue going. Home at
last, our horse has a pail of warm oatmeal gruel, which we
give him with our own hands. We see him done up for
the night to our liking before we hasten m to dress for the
dinner the Master is giving at the club in honour of the
huntsman, whose birthday it is, and some other visiting
knights of the pigskin. We must not miss it, for it is sure
to hold something good in store.

XXX
THE HUNT DINNER

*♦ Whatever our fate, may every one say
There is nothing like hunting on a good scenting day."

TO FOX-HUNTING

XXX
THE HUNT DINNER

THE huntsman's TOAST " TO FOX-HUNTING IN GENERAL*'

THE DOCTOR TELLS A STORY

UST a few congenial spirits," says our
Master, on the way home from covert ;
" no formality."

Hunting men at dinner, like hounds when
the pace is fastest, give little or no tongue. But by the
time cigars and cigarettes are passed they become such a
set of babblers as would " draft " the lot of them without
more ado. Over and over again they discuss the run of
the day, straight, crossways, and then "catacorner," as the
farmers say they cultivate their corn. Like the corn, that
grows taller and broader for each cultivation, so grow the
fences higher and the brook wider at least a foot at every
telling. The brook is no longer a creek, but a canal, to
those who have tasted it, a river to those who forded it.
Each hunter's vices have become trivial faults, his faults
mere eccentricities which only amuse and delight. His
mistakes we gladly take upon ourselves, where, in all prob-
ability, they belong. So the babblers babble on till finally
there is a stir at the Master's end of the table.

341

342 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

" Gentlemen ! " says the Master, rising, " gentlemen,
this is our huntsman's birthday. I suppose he has for-
gotten the fact entirely. I have asked you to come this
evening to remind him of it."

Then, after some complimentary remarks on our hunts-
man's skill, his health is drunk to the tune of " He 's a
jolly good fellow ! "

Here 's to our huntsman, so cheery and keen !
To all of his breed, whether scarlet or green !
To the hounds ! And may never their progeny fail
To go like their sires of to-day in the vale.

Our huntsman, looking as shy as a new-entry puppy,
stands up, and, after a few words of thanks to the Master
and of general compliment to the hunt, he proposes the
following toast:

TO FOX-HUNTING IN GENERAL

May we find a good horse who is fond of the play ;

May our foxes be straight-necked and show hounds the way ;

May every one of us hear the glad gone away

As he stands near the covert on the best hunting day!

May the fences never stop us, nor the brooks cause dismay ;

May our hounds never weary or their noses delay;

May hound music never cease through eternity to roll,

Cheering on every heart that is tuned to its toll.

Whatever our fate, may every one say

There is nothing like hunting on a good scenting day!

The Hunt Dinner 3^3

At the end of this poem the Master rises again. *' Gen-
tlemen," he says, ** we have with us to-night our old friend
the Doctor, who takes his hunting in a carriage, but, for all
that, usually sees as much of the game or more than the
riders themselves.

To the poor he advice gives away ;
For the rich he prescribes and takes pay.
But to each one he 's said,
* You will surely be dead
If you don't go a-hunting to-day ! '

We saw him out to-day with a new entry whom he was
introducing to hounds."

The Doctor is a very popular attache of our hunt, as the
reader may have surmised who followed him through the
chapter on " Driving to Hounds." It is therefore amid a
great tumult of applause and clinking of glasses that he
stands up to reply. His full rounded form and face are so
full of good humour that one of his friends declares the
sight of him does his patients more good than all the pills
and herbs of his medicinal stores.

He pauses a moment for the applause to subside, then
drops his head to survey the company over the top of his
eye-glasses, while the crow's-feet begin to pucker at the
corners of his eyes and his mouth begins to draw. His
friends break out again in anticipated relish of what they
feel sure is to come. After a few complimentary remarks
befitting the celebration, and a sly allusion to Mrs. So-and-
So's drive to the Maple Grove covert, — the occasion of
another wild demonstration from the members and blushes

344 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

of the deepest dye on the face of the huntsman, — the
Doctor begins an account of what happened that day to
the person whom the Master was pleased to call his " new
entry":

" My friend, Mr. Bankclerk, whom most of you met or
ran against to-day, was, as the Master has said, out to-day for
the first time to hounds. I had prescribed hunting for him,
as I do in most cases ["Hear, hear!"], especially for
insomnia and nervous prostration. It has been rather hard
medicine for young Bankclerk, but if he perseveres it will
cure him ; that is, providing, of course, it does not kill him.

" It was only yesterday morning that we were discussing
the matter in my office when our liveryman dropped in to
collect his bill. Without mentioning names, I may say, to
distinguish him from the other liverymen of our town,
that he occasionally rides to hounds. I have never seen
him off a highway or out of a lane, myself, if there was a
fence between it and him. He generally has a horse or
two to sell or trade — he is never at all particular which,
though of the two he prefers a trade; and to swop horses
with a gypsy is his special delight. You all know whom I
mean. He wears a waistcoat of a horse-blanket pattern, a
leather watch-guard, a horse's head for a scarf-pin, and cuff-
buttons to match. He wears boots and riding-breeches
seven days in the week, and is without exception the horsiest
man in the county. Indeed, he looks like a horse and
smells like a horse-stable.

"'Well, Doctor,' began our liveryman, striking his
favourite attitude — his legs spread, his back to the wall,
and his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, the better to

The Hunt Dinner 34^

display the same, * you say you were not out last Thursday.
You missed a sight, I was on Rory O'More ; and what a
clipper he is, to be sure ! Not a better hunter ever looked
through a bridle. Well, sir, Rory and I left the whole
field as if they were standing. The first I knew, I was
alone with the hounds. The huntsman was shouting at
me from several fields behind ; but I had no time to bother
with him or the Master or the rest of them chappies trail-
ing on after. I was doing my darnedest to ease up a bit,
like any other good Christian, but, my sakes ! don't you
make a mistake ; when hounds run, Rory O'More is going
with them. A fence stood up in front of us. Gee whiz !
but it was a regular church. Yet Rory would have it, and,
as I live, he cleared it without a tick ; six foot three and
three quarter inches, by actual measure. I see we were in
for a real buster, and, oh. Lord ! another fence with a drop
of ten feet on the landing-side. I roasted Rory one with
my crop, and darn my eyes if he did n't take it in his
stride. Well, that fence stopped the field, and when I had
gone on and killed our fox, and done the obsequies in the best
of style, who should come riding up but the Master and
huntsman. The way they stared at me, you would have
thought they had seen a ghost. What a wonder that Rory
O'More is ! I say, Doctor, you don't know of any one that
wants to buy the best hunter in the United States cheap as
bullock beef, do you ? '

"Well," continued the Doctor, " I saw there was going
to be no end of it, and as our liveryman had forgotten to
say what he came after, I said I must go. Imagine my
surprise when I met Bankclerk, that evening, to learn that

34^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound

he had bought Rory O'More and was going to come out
to-day for the first time. * Well,' said I to my wife this
morning, * my patients must die or get well as best they
can to-day without me. I 'm going to see the fun.' So
I hung the slate on the door and started. Bankclerk sent
his horse on by a groom, and rode over with me. * Was n't
it a fortunate occurrence that I happened to secure Rory
O'More?' said he. * I am going to rename him Romeo,
after one of Shakespeare's characters; or would you call him
something else ? I lay awake half the night thinking up a
name.' * Perhaps one will suggest itself somehow before
the day is over,' I replied; and so it did. *Is he sound?'
I asked.

"* Sound ! Why, the dealer said he had n't a pimple on
him.'

"* And his wind ?'

" * Well, I did say I thought he breathed rather hard, but
the dealer seemed very honest about it ; he said that
showed the strength of his lungs.'

"* What did he say about his fencing ?'

" * Well, you heard yourself what he said about how he
could jump. ** Jump ! He will jump anything," said he,
"that I would ever ask him to." Of course I don't expect,'
added Bankclerk, *that I shall take any such jumps as the
dealer did until I am a little more accustomed to riding.
However, you can understand I did n't want a green horse
to begin with, and I hope to learn some things from Rory.
The dealer said I surely would, as the horse knew it all.'

"* How did the dealer say he happened to be able to sell
such a remarkable horse so cheap ? ' I inquired.

The Hunt Dinner 347

"*He was owned by a gentleman who was going
abroad. Sold for no fault of his own.' This I knew to be
quite true, as the liveryman had taken the horse in a
trade from a gypsy. * Gentleman going abroad' — that point
at least was not to be disputed.

" * Sold for no fault of his own.*

"' Whose own?' I asked. * The horse's or the former
owner's ? ' But this seemed to make my good friend huffy,
and I desisted.

"Well, I had to laugh to see Bankclerk admiring himself
in the shop-windows as you rode through town to covert.

" * Why don't you carry a looking-glass in front of you?'
shouted a boot-black at him as he passed. * It would save
the trouble of turning your head.'

" Before we reached the covert, Bankclerk was quilting
away at his nag to make him keep up.

*' * Not much on the trot,' I suggested, * is he ? Give
him the spurs.' This Bankclerk did, but Rory simply
switched his tail and plodded on.

" * Come up, my beauty,' said Bankclerk, trying to get
his old stager into a canter ; for I could see my friend's
back teeth were being loosened from the jolting of the old
fellow's trot.

" * Come up, my beauty ! Come along, my pet ! ' he cried,
pushing on the lines and then pulling back as a signal for
Rory to go ahead. And then, losing patience, he drove both
spurs home with * Get out of this, you lumbering idiot i '
Thus addressed, Rory O'More broke into a bone-setting
canter. The ring of his feet on the stone pavement could
be heard for a mile.

34^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound

"Arriving at covert, I lost sight of my friend ; but seeing
the way hounds were running, I drove on. The next thing
I saw of him he was about to jump a fence not over three
feet high. He was leading the field, to be sure. Rory
O'More got both fore feet over, and there he stuck. Forty
riders behind were waiting their turn to go through the
only gap.

" * Have you a lease of the place for a term of years, or
only for the day?' asked some one.

" * Build a fire under him,* cried another.

" * Pour water in his ears,' etc., until finally Rory
O'More, having secured his second wind while resting on
the fence, answered to my friend's quilting and went away
with surprising speed.

"Later in the afternoon, whom should I see but Bankclerk
come walking along toward the road. I waited for him.
He was the picture of woe. His hat was knocked in so
he looked like a Bowery tough ; his new hunting-breeches
were green as grass could make them on one knee, and
torn to shreds on the other ; his hunting-coat was a mix-
ture of grass- and fallow-stains; and altogether he was the
most forlorn-looking object I ever beheld.

" * Where is your horse ? What has become of Romeo .? *
I inquired.

" * Gone to the devil, I hope,' said Bankclerk.

" * And your hunting-crop ? ' I asked.

" My friend, now that he was reminded of it, just missed
it. He looked first at one hand, then at the other ; then
he felt on the outside of his pockets.

" * Your hunting-crop,' I said. * Have you lost it } *

The Hunt Dinner 34^

" ' The Lord only knows,' was the melancholy answer.

" * Are n't you going to look for your horse?' I asked
next, but still with no answer.

" Ignoring the apparent absence of my patient's mind, I
hastened to inquire if he had had an enjoyable day's sport.
* You certainly bear evidence,' said I, * of having had a
glorious day.'

" * I never met such a beastly lot of blackguards in all
my life.'

" ' Come, get into my waggon and tell me all about it,' I
said soothingly.

" * Well, to begin with,' said my friend, ' the Master
swore at me awfully. I was n't doing anything, either.
He rode up to me and said, " Why don't you hold hard
when I ask you ? " "Well, now, really," said I, *' were you
talking to me ? My name is Bankclerk." And he
wheeled his horse about and rode away saying he had no
time to make me a set of brains. I thought when I heard
him yelling " Hold hard, there, Greyhorse," what a funny
name that was for a man. It seemed to make every one
laugh that heard it. The next ruffian to ride up to me
with another bucket of abuse was the huntsman. **What

in are you hollering at ? " said he. " At the fox,"

said I ; **just saw him run back in the woods, there. I
thought you would be glad to know of it, and I hollered."
With that he ripped out a torrent of abuse. " What are
you doing here, anyway } " he asked.

" ' " My name is Bankclerk," said I. " Dr. N

advised me to go hunting for my health." '' He should
have given you rough-on-rats," said the huntsman. " Bank-

350 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

clerk, did you say your name was ? " " Yes, sir, from
Rochester," said I. " May I give you my card ? " " Don't
trouble yourself," said he. " You take my advice, young
man : go home and have the cashier lock you in a safe and
give him a dollar to lose the key." Nice way to treat a
stranger, was n't it ? Well, we came to a check, as you
call it,' continued my friend, getting more and more indig-
nant at the recollection of the treatment he had received,
*when I noticed a fellow standing apart from the rest of
the company, looking about as lonesome as I was. So I
rode up behind him, and by way of being civil I was about
to ask him if it was customary for certain members of the
hunt to tie red ribbons in their horses' tails, when his brute
of a horse let fly with both hind legs and caught me on the
knee. Look how he tore my breeches. Then the rider,
too, turned on me and began to swear. " Can't you see
where you are going?" he cried.'

" I explained to my friend that the red ribbon in a
horse's tail was a sign he was a kicker.

" * Well,' said Bankclerk, * why did n't he say so ? Look
here. Doctor,' he went on, * you advised me to go hunting
for my health. I have been within an ace of being killed
at least half a dozen times in the last two hours. Your
treatment is too heroic for me.'

" * Well, what next ? ' I inquired, for I wanted to know
how it happened he had lost his horse.

" * Let me see. Oh, yes ; the next thing that happened,
I got hung up on the fence, as you saw, and heard insulting
remarks from the field. Then a fellow I was following —
my horse goes better, I find, if he has a lead — well, the

The Hunt Dinner 351

horse ahead of me refused, and of course I bumped into
him, and the rider fell off. When he got up he also began
to abuse me like a pirate. ** What do you mean by riding
in my pocket ? " he roared. " How did I know your old
bloke of a horse was going to refuse ? " said I.

*' * Then I thought I would keep away from every one
as a sure guarantee of not getting into any more rows, for
you may be sure I had experienced quite enough of it by
this time ; so I went through a gate, and was crossing a
field all by myself when I heard some galoot shouting,
" Ware wheat, ware wheat ! " and I saw an old hayseed of a
farmer running after me. This was a little too much. I

pulled up. " Now see here," said I. " What the do

you mean by shouting at me like this ? What the are

you hollering at, you fool .? Go lock yourself in the barn
and hire some one to lose the key," said I, just to give this
impudent fellow the same treatment every one had been
giving me. I had been insulted by everybody, from Master
to stable-boys, and my monkey was up, I can assure you.
" Ware wheat ! " shouted the hayseed. " Wear it yourself,"
I replied.

" * " Get off the wheat ! " he shouted. This jarred me,
for I was in a ploughed field and not on the wheat at all.
" I '11 not go until I get ready," said I. Then the old cuss
came for me with a pitchfork. I turned my horse to go
out of the field, with the farmer after me, clubbing and
prodding my horse with the pitchfork. The going was
deep, and my old nag had to take it at every jump. In
clearing the fence into the woods he jumped so high
that I was caught by a limb and knocked off. " Good

2^2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound

enough for you ! " said the farmer. " If you ever step foot
on my land again I '11 prosecute you." I must have left my
crop by his fence.'

" ' Go and look for it.'

" * Not much ! And where the deuce that old plug of a
horse has gone to I don't know, and, what 's more, I don't
care. I paid twenty-five dollars down on the brute. I '11
forget that, and telegraph the liveryman his horse is some-
where in the woods and at his risk.'

" We drove along a little farther," continued the Doc-
tor, " to look for him. * Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art
thou, Romeo?' Presently we came upon some of the riders.
A boy was leading Romeo about, waiting for some one to
claim him. I have heard since I came here to-night that
the horse, although a clumsy old brute, is very clever at his
fences, and that my friend could not make him go on
because he was riding him on the curb instead of the
snaffle. But he will make a sportsman yet," said the Doc-
tor, " and I want to ask you all, gentlemen, as a special
favour, to help put the young man right. You never can
tell by the looks of a toad how far he can jump.**

/Vebster Family Library of Veterinary' Medicine

Dummings School of Veterinary yedicine at

Fufts University

200 Westboro Road

^Jortfi Grafton, MA 01 536 ■.^.•.