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FamMy Library of Vetennary Mecftdne
Ounwnings School of \/pterinary Medicine at
Tufts Un»we»S!ty
200 Westtx)ro Road
Grafton MA 01*136

BOOKS FOR SFORTS/AEN

PUBLISHED BY

BELLAIRS & CO.,
9 HART STREET, BLOOMSBURY.

IN SCARLET AND SILK. Recollections
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NEW SPORTING STORIES. By G. CI.

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original lines, quoted by the immortal Jorrocks —

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GREAT SCOT THE CHASER, and other
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CURIOSITIES OF BIRD LIFE. By

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SPORTING SOCIETY

Spoeti^g Society

SPORTING CHAT AND SPORTINa MEMORIES

STORIES HUMOROUS AND CURIOUS; WRINKLES OF THE FIELD

AND THE RACE-COURSE; ANECDOTES OF THE STABLE AND

THE KENNEL; WITH NUMEROUS PRACTICAL

NOTES ON SHOOTING AND FISHING

FROM THE PEN OF

VARIOUS SPORTING CELEBRITIES AND
WELL-KNOWN WRITERS ON THE TURF AND THE CHASE

EDITED BY

FOX RUSSELL

iUustrattona bg Slaniolph Caltietott

IN TWO VOLUMES— VOL. L

LONDON

BELLAIRS & CO.
1897

CONTENTS

The Influence of Field Sports on Character
By Sir Courtenay Boyle

Old-Fashioned Angling

By Captain K. Bird Thompson

Partridge Day as it Was and as it Is
By "An Elderly Sportsman"

Simpson's Snipe ....

By Terence le Smithe

Podgers' Pointer ....
By Ben B. Brown

The Dead Heat ....

By "Old Calabar"

Only the Mare ....

By Alfred E. T. Watson

Hunting in the Midlands .
By T. H. S. EscoTT

A Military Steeplechase

By Captain R. Bird Thompson

How I Won my Handicap
Told by the Winner

The First Day of the Season and its Results
By " Sabretache "

PAGE

1

21

36

53

80

101

134

155

171

181

193

viii CONTENTS

PAGE

A Day with the Drag . . • . 210

By the Editor

Stag-Hunting on Exmoor . . . .221

By Captain Redway

Sport amongst the Mountains . . . 237

By " Sarcelle "

A Birmingham Dog Show . . . .251

By " Old Calabar " ^

Huntingcrop Hall ..... 268
By Alfred E. T. Watson

A Dog Hunt on the Berwyns . . . 286

By G. Christopher Davies

Some Odd Ways op Fishing .... 298
By G. Christopher Davies

Shooting . . • • • .306

By Captain R. Bird Thompson

*.^* "The Dead Heat," by "Old Calabar," was originally con-
tributed by the veteran sportsman to the pages of ' ' Bail y's Magazine, "
and is here reproduced by the permission of the Propi'ietors.

THE INFLUENCE OF FIELD SPOETS ON
CHAEACTER

Field sports have been generally considered solely
in the light of a relaxation from the graver business
of life, and have been justified by writers on econo-
mics on the ground that some sort of release is
required from the imprisoned existence of the man
of business, the lawyer, or the politician. Apollo
does not always bend his bow, it is said, and timely
dissipation is commendable even in the wise ; there-
fore by all means, let the sports which we English
love be pursued within legitimate bounds, and up to
an extent not forbidden by weightier considerations.
But there seems to be somewhat more in field
sports than is contained in this criticism. The
influence of cliaracter on the manner in which sports
are pursued is endless, and reciprocally the in-
fluence of field sports on character seems to deserve
some attention. The best narrator of schoolboy
life of the present day has said that, varied as are
the characters of boys, so varied are their ways of
facing or not facing a " hilly," at football ; and one
of the greatest observers of character in England

2 THE INFLUENCE OF

has written a most instructive and amusing account
of the way in which men enjoy fox-hunting. If,
therefore, a man's character and his occupations
and tastes exercise a mutual influence upon each
other, it follows that while men of different dis-
positions pursue sports in different ways, the sports
also which they do pursue will tell considerably in
the development of their natural character.

Now, the field sport which is perhaps pursued
by a greater number of Englishmen than any other,
and which is most zealously admired by its devotees,
is fox-hunting. It is essentially English in its
nature.

" A fox-hunt to a foreigner is strange,

'Tis likewise subject to tlie double danger
Of falling first, and having in exchange

Some pleasant laughter at the awkward stranger."

And it is this very falling which adds in some
degree to its popularity ; suave mari magno, it is
pleasant to know that your neighbour A.'s horse,
which he admires so much, has given him a fall at
that very double over which your little animal has
carried you so safely ; and it is pleasant to feel
yourself secure from the difficulties entailed on B,
by his desire to teach his four-year-old how to
jump according to his tastes. But apart from this
delight — uncharitable if you like to call it — which
is felt at the hazards and failures of another, there

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 6

is in fox-hunting the keenest possible desire to
overcome satisfactorily these difficulties yourself.
Not merely for the sake of explaining to an after-
dinner audience how you jumped that big place by
the church or led the field safely over the brook,
though that element does enter in ; but from
the strong delight which an Englishman seems by
birthright to have in surmounting any obstacles
which are placed in his way. Put a man then on
a horse, and send him out hunting, and when he
has had some experience ask him what he has dis-
covered of the requirements of his new pursuit, and
what is the lesson or influence of it. He will pro-
bably give you some such answer as the following.

The first thing that is wanted by, and therefore
encouraged by, fox-hunting, is decision. He wdio
hesitates is lost. ISTo " craner " can get well over a
country. Directly the hounds begin to run, he
who would follow them must decide upon his
course. Will he go through that gate, or attempt
that big fence, which has proved a stopper to the
crowd ? there is no time to lose. The fence may
necessitate a fall, the gate must cause a loss of
time, which sliall it be ? Or again, the hounds
have come to a check, the master and huntsmen are
not up (in some countries a very possible event),
and it devolves upon the only man who is with
them to give them a cast. Where is it to be ?

4 THE INFLUENCE OF

here or there ? There is no time for thought,
prompt and decided action alone succeeds. Or
else the loss of shoe or an unexpected fall has
thrown you out, and you must decide quickly in
which direction you think the hounds are most
likely to have run. Experience, of course, tells
considerably here as everywhere ; but quick de-
cision and promptitude in adopting the course
decided on will be the surest means of attaining
the wished for result of finding yourself again in
company with the hounds.

Further, fox-hunting teaclies immensely self-
dependence ; every one is far too much occupied
with his own ideas and his own difficulties to be
able to give more than the most momentary atten-
tion to those of his neighbour. If you seek advice
or aid you will not get much from the really zealous
sportsman ; you must trust to yourself, you must
depend on your own resources. " Go on, sir, or
else let me come," is the sort of encouragement
which you are likely to get, if in doubt whether
a fence is practicable or a turn correct.

Thirdly, fox-hunting necessitates a combination
of judgment and courage removed from timidity
on the one side and foolhardiness on the other.
The man who takes his horse continually over big
places, for the sake of doing that in which he hopes
no one else will successfully imitate him, is sure

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 5

in the end to kill his horse or lose his chance of
seeing the run ; and on the other hand, he who,
when the hounds are running, shirks an awkward
fence or leaves his straight course to look for a
gate, is tolerably certain to find himself several
fields behind at the finish. " What sort of a man

to hounds is Lord A ? " we once heard it

asked of a good judge. " Oh, a capital sportsman
and rider," was the answer ; " never larks, but will
go at a haystack if the hounds are running."

It is partly from the necessity of self-dependence
which the fox-hunter feels, that his sport is open
to the accusation that it tends to selfishness. The
true fox-hunter is alone in the midst of the crowd ;
he has his own interests solely at heart — each for
himself, is his motto, and the pace is often too
good for him to stop and help a neighbour in a
ditch, or catch a friend's runaway horse. He has
no partner, he plays no one's hand except his own.
This of course only applies to the man who goes
out hunting, eager to have a run and keen to be in
at the death. If a man rides to the meet with a
pretty cousin, and pilots her for the first part of a
run, he probably pays more attention to his charge
than to his own instincts of the chase ; but he is
not on this occasion purely fox-hunting ; and, if a
true Nimrod, his passion for sport will overcome
his gallantry, and he will probably not be sorry
I B

b THE INFLUENCE OF

when his charge has left his protection, and he is
free to ride where his individual wishes and the
exigencies of the hunt may lead liim.

What a knowdedge of country fox - hunting
teaches ! A man who hunts will, at an emer-
gency, be far better able than one who does not to
choose a course, and select a line, which will lead
him right. Generals hold that the topographical
instinct of the fox-hunter is of considerable advan-
tage in the battle-field ; and it is undoubtedly easy
to imagine circumstances in which a man accus-
tomed to find his way to or from hounds, in spite
of every opposition and difficulty, will make use of
the power which he has acquired and be superior
to the man who has not had similar advantages.

Finally, fox-hunting encourages energy and "go."
The sluggard or lazy man never succeeds as a
fox-hunter, and he who adopts the chase as an
amusement soon finds that he must lay aside all
listlessness and inertness if he would enjoy to the
full the pleasures which he seeks. A man who
thinks a long ride to cover, or a jog home in a
chill, dank evening in November, a bore, will not
do as a fox-hunter. The activity which considers
no distance too great, no day too bad for hunting,
will contribute first to the success of the sportsman,
and ultimately to the formation of the character of
the man.

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 7

Fishing teaches perseverance. The man in
Punch, who on Friday did not know whether he
had had good sport, because he only began on
Wednesday morning, is a caricature ; but, like all
caricatures, has an element of truth in it. To
succeed as an angler, whether of the kingly salmon,
or the diminutive gudgeon, an ardour is necessary
which is not damped by repeated want of success ;
and he who is hopeless because he has no sport at
first will never fully appreciate fishing. So too the
tyro, who catches liis line in a rock, or twists it in
an apparently inexplicable manner in a tree, soon
finds that steady patience will set him free far
sooner than impetuous vigour or ruthless strength.
The skilled angler does not abuse the weather or
the water in impotent despair, but makes the most
of the resources which he has, and patiently hopes
an improvement therein.

Delicacy and gentleness are also taught by
fishing. It is here especially that —

" Vis consili expers mole ruit sua,
Vim temperatam di quoqiie provelumt in majus."

Look at the thin link of gut and the slight rod
with which the huge trout or " never ending monster
of a salmon " is to be caught. No brute force will
do there, every struggle of the prey must be met by
judicious yielding on the part of the captor, who

8 THE INFLUENCE OF

watches carefully every motion, and treats its
weight by giving line, knowing at the same time —
none better — when the full force of the butt is to
be unflinchingly applied. Does not this sort of
training have an effect on character ? Will not a
man educated in fly-fishing find developed in him
the tendency to be patient, to be persevering, and
to know how to adapt himself to circumstances.
Whatever be the fish he is playing, whatever be his
line, will he not know when to yield and when to
hold fast ?

But fishing like hunting is solitary. The zealot
among fishermen will generally prefer his own com-
pany to the society of lookers-on, whose advice
may worry him, and whose presence may spoil his
sport. The salmon-fisher does not make much of
a companion of the gillie who goes with him, and
the trouter does best when absolutely alone ; and
nothing is so apt to prove a tyrant, and an evil
one, as the love of solitude.

On the other hand, the angler is always under
the influence, and able to admire the beauties of
nature. Whether he be upon the crag-bound loch
or by the sides of the laughing burn of highland
countries, or prefer the green banks of southern
rivers, he can enjoy to the full the many pleasures
which existence alone presents to those who admire
nature. And all this exercises a softening in-

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 9

fluence on his character. Eead the works of those
who write on fishing — Scrope, Walton, Davy, as
instances. Is there not a very gentle spirit
breathing through them ? What is there rude
or coarse or harsh in the true fisherman ? Is he
not light and delicate, and do not his words
and actions fall as softly as his flies ?

Shooting is of two kinds, which, without in-
correctness, may be termed wild and tame. Of
tame shooting the tamest, in every sense of the
word, is pigeon-shooting ; but as this is admittedly
not sport, and as its principal feature is that it is
a medium for gambling, or, at least, for the winning
of money prizes or silver cups, it may be passed
over in a few words. It undoubtedly requires skill,
and encourages rapidity of eye and quickness of
action ; but its influence on character depends solely
on its essential selfishness, and the taint which it
bears from the " filthy " effect of " lucre."

Other tame shooting is battue shooting, where
luxuriously clad men, who have breakfasted at any
hour between ten and twelve, and have been driven
to their coverts in a comfortable conveyance, stand
in a sheltered corner with cigarettes in their mouths,
and shoot tame pheasants and timid hares for about
three hours and a half, varying the entertainment
by a hot lunch, and a short walk from beat to beat.
Two men stand behind each sportsman with breech-

10 THE INFLUENCE OF

loaders of the quickest action, and the only draw-
back to the gunner's satisfaction is that he is
obliged to waste a certain time between his shots in
cocking the gun which he has taken from his loader.
This cannot but be enervating in its influence.
Everything, except the merest action of pointing
the piece and pulling the trigger, is done for
you. You are conveyed probably to the very
place where you are to stand ; the game is
driven right up to you ; what you shoot is
picked up for you ; your gun itself is loaded
by other hands ; you have no difficulty in
finding your prey ; you have no satisfaction in
outwitting the wiliness of bird or beast ; you
have nothing whatever except the pleasure —
minimised by constant repetition — of bringing
down a " rocketter," or stopping a rabbit going
full speed across a ride.

The moral of this is that it is not necessary to
do anything for yourself, that some one will do
everything for you, probably better than you would,
and that all you have to do is to leave everything
to some person whom you trust. Or, again, it is,
get the greatest amount of effect with the least
possible personal exertion. Stand still, and op-
portunities will come to you like pheasants —
all you have to do is to knock them over.

But it is not so with wild-shootinoj. ^ot so

FIELD SPORTS OX CHARACTER 11

with the man, who, w^ith tlie greatest difficulty, and
after studying every available means of approach,
has got within range of the lordly stag, and hears
the dull thud which tells him his bullet has not
missed its mark. Nor with him, who, after a
hurried breakfast, climbs hill after hill in pursuit
of the russet grouse, or mounts to the top of a
craggy ridge in search of the snowy ptarmigan.
Not so either with him, who traverses every bit
of marshy ground along a low bottom, and is
thoroughly gratified, if, at the end of a long day,
he has bagged a few snipe ; nor with him, who,
despite cold and gloom and wet, has at last drawn
his punt within distance of a flock of wild duck.
In each of these, endurance and energy is taught
in its fullest decree. It is no slisfht strain on the

o o

muscles and lungs to follow Eonald in his varied
course, in which he emulates alternately the move-
ments of the hare, the crab, and the snake ; and it
is no slight trial of patience to find, after all your
care, all your wearisome stalk, that some unobserved
hind, or unlucky grouse, has frightened your prey
and rendered your toil vain. But, en avant, do
not despair, try again, walk your long walk,
crawl your difficult crawl once more, and then,
your perseverance rewarded by a royal head,
agree that deer-stalking is calculated to develop a

12 THE INFLUENCE OF

character which overcomes all difficulties, and goes
on in spite of many failures.

The same obstinate determination which is found
in this, the heme ideal of all shooting, is found
similarly in shooting of other kinds ; and it is a
question whether to the endurance inculcated by
this pursuit may not be attributed that part of an
Englishman's character which made the Peninsular
heroes " never know when they were licked."

It is objected by foreigners to many of our
national sports that they involve great disregard for
animal life. " Let us go out and kill something,"
they say, is the exhortation of an Englishman to
his friend when they wish to amuse themselves.
Sport consists, they hold, in slaughter ; sport
therefore is cruel, and teaches contempt for the
feelings of creatures lower than ourselves in the
scale of existence. I do not wish to enter into
this question, which has been a source of con-
siderable controversy ; but I would say three
things in reference to it. First, that it is difficult
to answer the question. Why should man be an
exception to the rule of instinct — undoubtedly
prevalent throughout the world — which leads
every animal to prey upon its inferior ? Secondly,
that every possible arrangement is made by man for
the comfort and safety of his prey — salmon, foxes,
pheasants or stags — until the actual moment of

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 13

capture, and that every fair chance of escape is
given to it ; and thirdly, that whatever the premises
may be, the conckision remains, that there is no race
so far removed from carelessness of animal life and
happiness as the English.

There are, however, other field sports which do not
involve any destruction of life, and which, from the
general way in which they are pursued, may fairly be
called national. Foremost amongst these is racing.

Were racing freed from any influence, other than
that which distinguished the races of past epochs,
the desire of success ; were the prize a crown of
parsley or of laurel, and the laudable desire of
victory the only inducement to contention, the
effect on the men who are devoted to it could
not be otherwise than for good. In modern
racing, however, the element of pecuniary gain
comes in so strongly, that the worst points of
the human character are stimulated by it instead
of the best, and the improvement of horseflesh
and the breed of horses is sacrificed to the tem-
porary advantage of owners of horses. To say,
now, that a man is going on the turf, is to say,
that he had almost be better under it ; and though
a few exceptional cases are found, in which men
persistently keeping race horses have maintained
their independence and strict integrity in spite of
the many temptations with which they are assailed.

14 THE INFLUENCE OF

yet, even they, have probably done so at the sacri-
fice of openness of confidence and perhaps of friend-
ship. Trust no one is the motto of turfites. Keep
the key of your saddle-room yourself; let no one,
not even your trainer, see your weights. Pay your
jockey the salary of a judge, and then have no
security that he will not deceive you. The state
of the turf is like the state of Corcyraea of old.
Every man thinks, that unless he is actually plot-
ting against somebody, he is in danger of being
plotted against himself, and that the only safety
he has lies in taking the initiative in deceit. The

sole object is to win —

"Eem
Si jDOSsis recte, si noii quocuiique modo rem."

Take care you are not cheated yourself, and make
the most of any knowledge of which you believe
yourself to be the sole possessor.

What is the result of such a pursuit ? what its
moral ? The destruction of all generosity, all trust
in others, all large-mindedness : and the encourage-
ment instead, of selfishness, of extravagance, and of
suspicion.

The man whose friendship was warm and gener-
ous, who would help his friend to the limit of his
powers, goes on the turf and becomes warped and
narrow, labouring, apparently, always under the
suspicion, that those whom he meets are trying,

FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER 15

or wish to try, to get the better of him, or share,
in some way, the advantages which he hopes his
cunning has acquired for himself.

A thorough disregard for truth, too, is taught by
horse-racing ; not, perhaps, instanced always by the
affirmation of falsehood, but negatively by the con-
cealment or distortion of fact. An owner seldom
allows even his best friend to know the result of
his secret trials, and in some notable cases such
results are kept habitually locked in the breast of
one man, who fears to have a confidant, and doubts
the integrity of everyone. Whether this is a state
of things which can be altered, either by diminish-
ing the number of race-meetings in England, or by
discouraging or even putting down betting, I have
no wish to consider ; but that the present condition
of horse-racing and its surroundings is very far
removed from being a credit to the country, I
venture to affirm.

Cricket is another field sport, the popularity of
which has rapidly increased ; partly from the entire
harmlessness which characterises it, and leads to
the encouragement of it by schoolmasters and
clergymen, and partly from the fact that it is
played in the open air, in fine weather, and in
the society of a number of companions. I do not
propose to inquire whether there is benefit in the
general spreading of cricket through the country.

16 THE INFLUENCE OF

or whether it may not be said that it occupies too
much time and takes men away from other more
advantageous occupations, or whether the com-
bination of amateur and professional skill which is
found in great matches is a good thing ; but I wish,
briefly, to point out one or two points in human
nature which seem to me to be developed by cricket.
The first of these is hero-worship. The best
player in a village club, and the captain of a school
eleven, if not for other reasons unusually unpopular,
is surrounded by a halo of glory which falls to the
successful in no other sport. Great things are ex-
pected of him, he is looked upon with admiring
eyes, and is indeed a great man. " Ah, it is all
very well," you hear, " but wait till Brown goes in,
Smith and Eobinson are out, but wait till Brown
appears, then you will see how we shall beat you,
bowl him out if you can." His right hand will
atone for the shortcomings of many smaller men,
his prowess make up the deficiency of his side.
Or look at a match between All England and
twenty-two of Clodshire, watch the clodsmen be-
tween the innings, how they throng wonderingly
round the chiefs of the eleven. That's him, that's
Abel, wait till he takes the bat, then you'll "see
summut like play." Or go to the " Bat and Ball "
after the match, when the eleven are there, and see
how their words are dwelt on by an admiring audi-

FIELD SPORTS OX CHARACTER 17

ence, and tlieir very looks and demeanour made much
of as the deliberate expressions of men great in their
generation. Again, see the reception at Kenning-
ton Oval of a " Surrey pet " or a popular amateur,
or the way in which " W. G." Grace is treated by
the undemonstrative aristocracy of " Lord's," and
agree with me that cricket teaches hero-worship in
its full. What power the captain of the Eton or
the Winchester eleven has, what an influence over
his fellows, not merely in the summer when his
deeds are before the public, but always from a
memory of his prowess with bat or ball. There is
one awkward point about this ; there are many
cricket clubs, and therefore many captains, and
when two of these meet a certain amount of diffi-
culty arises in choosing which is the hero to be
worshipped. In a match where the best players
of a district are collected, and two or more good
men, known in their own circle and esteemed highly,
there play together, who is to say which is the best ;
who is to crown the real king of Brentford ? Each
considers himself superior to the other, each re-
members the plaudits of his own admirers, forgets
that it is possible that they may be prejudiced, and
ignores the reputation of his neighbour. The result
is a jealousy among the chieftains which is difficult
to be overcome, and which shows itself even in the
best matches.

18. THE INFLUENCE OF

On the other hand, the effect of this hero-wor-
ship which I have described, is to produce a har-
mony and unity of action consequent on confidence
in a leader which is peculiar to cricket. Watch
a good eleven, a good university or public school
team, and see how thoroughly they work together,
how the whole eleven is like one machine, "point"
trusting " coverpoint,'" "short slip" knowing that
if he cannot reach a ball, "long slip" can, and
the bowler feeling sure that his " head " balls, if
hit up, will be caught, if hit along the ground,
will be fielded. Or see two good men batting,
when every run is of importance, how they
trust one another's judgment as to the possibility
of running, how thoroughly they act in unison.
Such training as this teaches greatly a combination
of purpose and of action, and a confidence in the
judgment of one's colleagues which must be ad-
vantageous.

The good cricketer is obedient to his captain, does
what he is told, and does not grumble if he thinks
his skill underrated : the tyro, proud of his own
prowess, will indeed be cross if he is not made
enough of, or is sent in last ; but the good player,
who really knows the game, sees that one leader is
enough, and obeys his orders accordingly.

There are other lessons taught by cricket, such as
caution by batting, patience and care by bowling,

FIELD SPOETS ON CHARACTER 19

and energy by fielding ; but I have no space to
dwell on these, as I wish to examine very briefly
one more sport, which, though hardly national, is
yet much loved by the considerable number who
do pursue it. Boating is seen in its glory at the
universities or in some of the suburbs of London
which are situated on the Thames. It is also
practised in some of the northern towns, especially
Newcastle, where the Tynesiders have long enjoyed
a great reputation.

By boating, I do not mean going out in a large
tub, and sitting under an awning, being pulled by
a couple of paid men or drawn by an unfortunate
horse, but boat-racing, for prizes or for honour.
The Oxford and Cambridge race has done more
than anything to make this sport popular, and the
thousands who applaud the conquerors, reward
sufficiently the exertions which have been necessary
to make the victory possible.

The chief lesson which rowing teaches is self
denial. The university oar, or the member of
the champion crew at Henley, has to give up
many pleasures, and deny himself many luxuries,
before he is in a fit state to row with honour
to himself and his club ; and though in the
dramatist's excited imagination the stroke-oar
of an Oxford eight may spend days and nights
immediately before the race, in the society of a

20 INFLUENCE OF FIELD SPORTS ON CHARACTER

Formosa, such is not the case in real life. There
must be no pleasant chats over a social pipe for the
rowing man, no dinners at the Mitre or the Bull,
no TccherM breakfasts with his friends ; the routine
of training must be strictly observed, and every-
thing must give way to the paramount necessity
of putting on muscle. In the race itself, too, what
a desperate strain there is on the powers ! How
many times has some sobbing oarsman felt that
nature must succumb to the tremendous demand
made on her, that he can go no further ; and then
has come the thought that others are concerned
besides himself, that the honour of his university or
his club are at stake, which has lent a new stimulus
and made possible that final spurt which results in
victory.

The habits taught by rowing, whether during train-
ing or after the race has commenced, lead to regu-
larity of life, to abstemiousness, and to the avoidance
of unwholesome tastes, and their effect is seen long
after the desire for aquatic glory have passed away.
Such are some of the most prominent influences of
English field sports, and as long as amusements re-
quiring such energy, such physical or mental activity,
and such endurance as fox-hunting, stalking, and
cricket, are popular, there is little fear of the manly
character of the English nation deteriorating, or its
indomitable determination bein.gj weakened.

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

Angling is, I think, one of the most popular of
British field sports ; certainly, for one book written
about any other kind, there must be half-a-dozen
on the subject of fishing. I met lately with a most
amusing old book on the " Art of Angling," published
in 1801 ; and illustrated with very quaint old wood
engravings of both fresh and sea water fish. It
commences with a long anatomical and physiological
description of fish, giving an account of their habits,
method of feeding, &c. For this last the author
draws considerably on his own imagination. For
instance, he declares that mussels and oysters open
their shells for the purpose of catching crabs, clos-
ing them when one creeps in, and thus securing
their prey. The oyster also is declared to change
sides with each tide, lying with the flat shell upper-
most one time, and the convex the next. After
this the author goes regularly through the alpha-
bet, treating everything connected with fresh- water
angling under its respective initial letter.

I suppose that at this time there were few, if

22 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

any tackle shops, for most elaborate directions are
given for making lines. These were to be of horse
hair, and twisted in a " twisting instrument," what-
ever that was. The hair was to be with the top of
one to the tail of the other, so that every part might
be equally strong, and turned slowly, so as to allow
it " to bed " properly ; the different lengths were to
be tied together either " by a water knot, or Dutch
knot, or a weaver's." The line was to taper, be-
ginning with three hairs down to a single one,
where the hook was whipped on.

The rod, as a matter of the greatest importance,
is duly treated. The wood was to be procured be-
tween the middle of November and Christmas Day ;
the stock or butt to be made of ground hazel, ground
ash, or ground willow, not more than two or three
feet long. The wood chosen to be that which sliot
directly from the ground — not from any stump —
and every joint beyond was to taper to a top made
preferably of hazel, though yew, crab, or blackthorn
might be used. If it had any knots or excrescences,
which were to be avoided if possible, they must be
removed with a sharp knife. Five or six inches of
the top were to be cut off, and a small piece of
round, smooth, taper whalebone spliced on with silk
and cobbler's wax, and the whole finislied with a
strong noose of hair to fasten the line to. Tliis was

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 23

for an ordinary rod ; the best sort was made as
follows : — A white deal or fir board, thick, free from
knots, and seven to eight feet long, was to be pro-
cured, and a dexterous joiner was to divide this
with his saw into several breadths ; then with a
plane to shoot them round, smooth, and rush-grown
or taper. One of these would form the bottom of
the rod, seven or eight feet long in the piece. To
this was fastened a hazel six or seven feet lonsf,
proportioned to the fir ; this also rush-grown, and
it might consist of two or three pieces, to the top
of which a piece of yew was to be fixed about two
feet long — round, smooth, and taper ; and, finally,
a piece of round whalebone, five or six inches long.
Some rings or eyes were to be placed on the rod in
such a manner that when you laid your eye to one,
you could see through all the rest. A wheel or
winch must be fixed on, about a foot from the end
of the rod, and, as a finish, a feather dipped in
aqita fortis was passed over it, so as to make it a
pure cinnamon colour. " This," the author adds,
" will be a curious rod if artificially worked ! "

The subject of fly-making, and how and when to
use flies, is treated most exhaustively — no less than
twenty-four pages being devoted to the subject.
The materials named for fly-dressing are very good
indeed, and very much the same as used now ; but

24 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

when the author tries to explain the actual method
of using them he utterly fails. Anyone who at-
tempted to tie flies in the way explained would
produce most extraordinary specimens.

The author has taken very great pains, not only
in naming the flies to be used each month, but the
actual time of day for them, and the hours between
which they must be used. Worms for bait are de-
scribed and named with great exactness, and the
best way to catch and keep them, also how best to
scour them previous to use. I think, however, the
method recommended for scouring one kind would
be too much for any but a very enthusiastic angler
— namely, to put them in a woollen bag, and keep
them in your waistcoat pocket. Few persons could
stand that, I think.

Many recipes for different sorts of pastes are
given, but it is hard to believe that any fish would
take them — " bean flour, the tenderest part of a
kitten's leg, wax and suet beaten together in a
mortar," scarcely sounds alluring ; neither does a
mixture of " fat old cheese (the strongest rennet),
suet, and turmeric," appear to be very nice. To
any of these pastes you may add " assafoetida, oil of
polypody of the oak, oil of ivy, or oil of Peter."
Well, I do not suppose that they would make much
difference.

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 25

A great number of recipes for unguents, to
smear over the worms used so as to make them
more attractive, are given ; and most extraordinary
they are : — assafoetida, three drachms ; camphire, one
drachm ; Venice turpentine, one drachm ; beaten up
with oils of lavender and camomile, is one recipe.
Another is, " mulberry juice, hedgehog's fat, oil of
water-lilies and oil of pennyroyal," mixed together ;
but the most elaborate one is as follows : — " Take
the oils of camomile, lavender, and aniseed, of
each a quarter of an ounce ; heron's grease and
the best of assafoetida, each two drachms ; two
scruples of cummin seed finely beaten to powder ;
Venice turpentine, camphire, and galbanum, of each
a drachm ; add two grains of civet and make into
an unguent. This must be kept close in a glazed
earthenware pot, or it loses much of its virtue ;
anoint your line with it and your expectation will
be abundantly answered. Some anglers, however,
place more confidence in a judicious choice of baits
and a proper management of them, than in the
most celebrated unguents." I tliink the conclud-
ing paragraph is delightful. I suppose it did at
length dawn on the author's mind that people
might object to carrying about such hideously
stinking compositions.

The angler is told that " his apparel must not be

26 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

of a light or shining colour, but of a dark brown,
fitting closely to the body, so as not to fright the
fish away." The impediments to our anglers' re-
creation are named. " The fault may be occasioned
by his tackle, as when liis lines or hooks are too
large, when his bait is dead or decaying. If he
angles at a wrong time of day, when the fish are
not in the humour of taking his bait. If the fish
have been frightened by him or with his shadow.
If the weather be too cold. If the weather be too
hot. If it rains much or fast. If it hails or snows.
If it be tempestuous. If the wind blows high or
be in the east or north. Want of patience and the
want of a proper assortment of baits." Anglers are
also warned " never to fish in any water that is not
common without leave of the owner, which is seldom
denied to any but those that do not deserve it."
Another direction is given that would greatly
horrify any Blue Eibbon army man who might see
it, namely, '' if at any time, you happen to be over-
heated with walking or other exercise, you must
avoid small liquors as you would poison, and rather
take a glass of brandy, the instantaneous effects of
which in cooling the body and quenching drought
are amazing."

The laws as to angling and fishing generally are
quoted at considerable length and seem most of

OLD-FASH lOXED ANGLING 27

them to be aimed at preventing immature fisli being
taken and preserves damaged. The penalties did
not err on the side of clemency. By 5th Elizabeth,
destroying any dam of any pond, moat or stew,
&c., with intent to take the fish, was punished with
three months' imprisonment and to be bound to good
behaviour for seven years after ; also by 21st Eliza-
beth, " no servant shall be questioned for killing a
trespasser within his master's liberty who will not
yield ; if not done out of former malice. Yet if
the trespasser kills any such servant it is murder."

I fancy the following, if carried out now, would
rather astonish many fish dealers in the city of
London : — " Those that sell, offer, or expose to sale
or exchange for any other goods, bret or turbot
under sixteen inches long ; brill or pearl under four-
teen ; codlin twelve ; whiting six ; bass and mullet
twelve ; sole, plaice, and dab eight ; and flounder
seven, from their eyes to the utmost extent of the
tail; are liable to forfeit twenty shillings, by dis-
tress, or to be sent to hard labour for not less than
six or more than fourteen days, and to be wliippcd!'
I suppose most, if not all, of these enactments are
now repealed, but if not, and they were enforced,
a considerable sensation would be created by
them.

One paragraph is very remarkable, as showing

28 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

that over ninety years ago, the same views were pro-
mulgated, relating to the profit that might be obtained
from fish in ponds, as have been brought forward in
the Times and other papers during recent years.
Our author says : " It is surprising that, considering
the benefit which may accrue from making ponds
and keeping of fish, it is not more generally put in
practice. For, besides furnishing the table and
raising money, the land would be vastly improved
and be worth forty shillings an acre ; four acres
converted into a pond will return every year a
thousand fed carp from the least size to fourteen
or fifteen inches long, besides pike, perch, tench,
and other fish. The carp alone may be reckoned
to bring one with another, sixpence, ninepence, or
perhaps twelvepence apiece, amounting at the low-
est rate to twenty-five pounds, and at the highest
to fifty, which would be a very considerable as well
as useful improvement." Exactly ; this has been
written and pointed out in the papers year after
year.

There are wood-cuts of every fish and full direc-
tions how to angle for them. For pike, trolling, live
baiting, fishing with frogs, are all lengthily described ;
and also a curious sort of spinning, the motion being
caused by cutting off one of the fins close to the
gills and another behind the vent on the contrary

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 29

side. I am sorry to say the author winds up by
full directions for snaring and snatching.

It seems curious to be told that good places for
roach fishing are by Blackfriars, Westminster and
Chelsea Bridges, or by the piles at London Bridge ;
but that the best way by far was to go below the
bridges and fasten your boat to the " stern of any
collier or other vessel whose bottom was dirty with
weeds," to angle there, as " you would not fail to
catch many roach, and those very fine ones." The
sailors on board colliers must have been a very
different set in those days from what they are now. I
fancy anyone trying to tie his boat to the stern of a
collier, whether for fishing or any other purpose,
would have a pretty hot time of it. The Thames,
of course, is mentioned as one of the rivers where
salmon were caught, though the localities are not
named. Exact particulars are given for fishing for
eels, but in those days they must have been a very
amiable sort of fish, not at all like the obstinate
and perverse creatures they are now, if they allowed
themselves to be caught by sniggling in the way
mentioned. You were to " get a strong line of silk
and a small hook bated with a lob w^orm ; next get a
short stick with a cleft in it, and put the line into
it near the bait ; then thrust it into such holes as
you suppose him to lurk in. If he is there, it is

30 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

great odds that lie will take it." The stick was
then to be detaclied from the line and the eel
allowed to gorge the bait. You were not to try
and draw him out hastily, but to give him time to
tire himself out by pulling. All I can say is, that if
anyone ever managed to get an eel out in this way he
must have had an uncommon share of luck. My own
experience shows me that when an eel gorges your
bait and gets into his hole, it is quite hopeless to
attempt to get him out, and the only plan is to pull
until something gives way, and that is never the
eel, but usually your hook, and sometimes the
line.

Our author having given every kind of advice
and direction about angling, adds the following
admonition : — " Eemember that the wit and inven-
tion of mankind were bestowed for other purposes
tlian to deceive silly fish, and that, however delight-
ful angling may be, it ceases to be innocent when
used otherwise than as a mere recreation " ; and he
winds up all he has to say about fresh-water angling
thus : — " The editor having gone through the English
alphabet, takes the liberty to tell gentlemen that
the best way to secure fish is to transport poachers."
A very wise piece of advice, no doubt much acted
on in those days.

In the second part of the book, devoted to sea

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 31

fish, no directions are given for fishing, but merely
descriptions of them, and very curious some of these
are. We are told of dolphins, that " they sleep
with their snouts out of water," and that " some
have affirmed that they have heard them snore ;
they will live three days out of water, during which
time they sigh in so mournful a manner as to
affect those with concern, who are not used to hear
them."

Another fish, the " sea-wolf, taken off Heligoland,
is a very voracious animal, and well furnished with
dreadful teeth. They are so hard that if he bites
the fluke of an anchor you may hear the sound and
see the impression of his teeth." Certainly the
engraving of it makes it an awful-looking thing,
with a body like a codfish and an enormous head,
with a huge mouth full of teeth like spikes. When
the herring fisliery is mentioned, it is curious that
the author gives a full account of the Dutch fishery
but passes over the English with a very brief notice.
The account of the former is remarkable. Their
vessels were a kind of barque called a buss, from
forty-five to sixty tons burden, carrying two or three
small cannon ; none were allowed to steer out of port
without a convoy unless they carried twenty pieces
of cannon am oncost them all. What can have been
the use of this regulation I cannot imagine. A

32 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

pirate would never attack a fishing-boat, and against
a vessel of war they would have been useless. The
regulations for fishing were very distinct. No man
was to cast his net within 100 fathoms of another's
boat ; whilst the nets were cast, a light was to be
left in the stern ; if a boat was by any accident
obliged to leave off fishing, the light was to be
thrown into the sea, and when the greater part of
the fleet left off fishing and cast anchor, the rest
were to do the same.

Of the English fishery, the date of its commence-
ment, the size of the nets and the names of the differ-
ent sorts of herrings are merely given ; these names
are very curious, I wonder whether they are known
on the coast now. Six sorts are given, — the Fat Her-
ring, the largest and best ; the Meat Herring, large,
but not so thick as the first ; the Nidit Herrinir, a
middle-sized one ; the Pluck, which has been hurt
in the net ; the Shotten Herring, which has lost its
spawn ; and the Copshen, which by some accident
or other has been deprived of its head. When the
whale fishery is mentioned, here too the description
given relates entirely to the Dutch. As to tlie
English it only says that in 1728 the South Sea
Company began to work it with pretty good success
at first, but that it dwindled away until 1740, when
Parliament thought fit to give greater encouragement

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 33

to it. The discipline in the Dutch whale fleet
seems to have been very good ; the following are
some of the standing regulations : — In case a vessel
was wrecked and the crew saved, the first vessel
they met with was to take them in and the second
half of those from the first, but were not obliged to
take in any of the cargo ; but if any goods taken
out of such vessel are absolutely relinquished and
another ship finds and takes them, the captain was
to be accountable to the owner of the wrecked ship
for one-half clear of all expenses. If the crew de-
serted any wrecked vessel, they would have no
claim to any of the effects saved, but the whole
would go to the proprietor. However, if present
when the effects were saved and they assisted there-
in, they would have one-fourth. That if a person
piked a fish on the ice, it was his own so long as
he left anyone with it, but the minute he left it, the
fish became the property of the first captain that
came along. If it was fastened to the shore by an
anchor or rope, though left alone it belonged to its
first captor. If any man was maimed or wounded
in the Service, the Commissioners of the Fishery
were to procure him reasonable satisfaction, to which
the whole fleet were to contribute. They likewise
agreed to attend prayers morning and evening, on
pain of a forfeit at the discretion of the captain ;

34 OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING

not to get drunk or draw their knives on forfeiture
of half their wages, nor fight on forfeiture of the
whole. They were not to lay wagers on the good
or ill-success of the fishing, nor buy or sell with the
condition of taking one or more fish on the penalty
of twenty-five florins. They were likewise to rest
satisfied with the provisions allowed them and never
to light candle, fire, or match, without the captain's
leave on the like penalty. These regulations were
read out before the voyage commenced and the crew
were then called over to receive the customary
gratuity before setting out and were promised
another on return in proportion to the success of
the voyage. The vessels went north leaving Ice-
land on the left, to parallel 75°, but some, the
author says, ventured as far as 80° or 82°. I fancy
he had rather vague ideas on the subject of North
latitude, as it was not until 1827 that Sir E. Parry
reached 82°, the farthest point north ever attained
up to that time.

Amongst other fish " stock fish " is mentioned,
which is described as "cod fish caught in the
North of Norway by fishermen who cut holes in
the ice for the purpose. On hooking one, as soon
as they pulled it out, it was opened, cleaned, and
then thrown on the rocks where it froze and became
as hard as a deal board, and never to be dissolved.

OLD-FASHIONED ANGLING 35

This the sailors beat to pieces, often calling it fresh
fish, though it may have been kept seven years and
worms have eaten holes in it." But if the letter-
press is curious, the engravings with which the book
is illustrated are still quainter. The fish, whether
minnows or salmon, reach the same length ; the only
difference being made in their breadth, even the
whale is merely represented as rather thicker and
with two little men with axes in their hands walk-
ing on it. The author undoubtedly took great pains
in compiling his work, and in spite of all eccentri-
cities there are many hints and suggestions that are
useful even nowadavs.

PAETEIDGE DAY AS IT WAS AND AS
IT IS

By ax Elderly Sportsman

The world advances — good. Having accepted
which tenet, it would be unreasonable to deny that
the pleasures and indulgences of the world advance
also. Luxury is one of the pleasures and indul-
gences of the world. Therefore luxury advances.
The syllogism is complete and sound ; there is fault
in neither major nor minor premiss ; and we have
therefore arrived at the ultimate conclusion that
luxury is on the move — that is, has increased. I
have seldom come across a more perfect illustration
of my argument than in the early days of this
month of September. I am not an old fogey ; I do
not set up pretensions to a claim for talking, with
a kind of accompanying sigh, of the days " when I
was a boy," when " we managed things so much
better," &c., &c. Yet perhaps I am not exactly
middle-aged either, and can at all events look
sufficiently far back to note a material change in
the manner in which old September is ushered in
36

PARTRIDGE DAY AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 37

now as compared with its reception some years ago.
There are probably few, who, if lacking experience
of its pleasures, can duly appreciate the ardour with
which a sportsman looks forward to the " glorious
first." But let the appreciative observer note how
manifestly that ardour has of late years abated.
It has been my frequent custom ere autumn has
made her final curtsey, to take up my quarters at
the country house of a certain relative, and witness
the unprovoked assault on, and reckless massacre
of divers unoffending partridges in the ensuing
month. The relative referred to is an elderly
gentleman, and, in addition to the possession of
lands of his own, and liberties to shoot over those
of other people, is also the happy father of three
stalwart sons, not to mention the complementary
portion of the family with whom at present I have
nothing to do. These three stalwart sons, beknown
to me as mere brats, I have watched grow up with
some interest, and that not only as regards their
moral and intellectual training, but also as regards
the physical culture of their frames, and the sport-
ing bent of their mind. The youngsters were always
fond of me. I have always been their ficlus
Achates, in their adventures by land and water,
from teaching them to swim and row, down to
setting night lines for eels, or traps for rats. Well

I D

38 PARTRIDGE DAY

do I recollect arriving, on the evening of the 31st
of August, some years ago, at the old place in
Lincolnshire, and finding all three in a state of wild
exuberance of spirits in anticipation of the morrow's
sport ; Jack, the eldest, just then promoted to a gun
of his own, of which he was enormously proud, and
the other two contenting themselves with the ex-
citing prospect of plodding after us the whole day
in the hopes of being allowed to let off our charges
at its conclusion. Everybody was eager enough
then, and the Squire after an evening spent — much
to the disgust of the ladies — in discussing the all-
engrossing topic of " the birds," sends us off early
to bed, that we may all be up betimes in the
morning.

We wake at seven, or rather are awoke, for the
boys have been up since five, " chumming " (I
know no word so appropriate) with the keepers ;
and even the Squire himself overhead I have heard
stamping across his room to look out at the weather
several times since four o'clock. We are awoke,
then, at seven, and ere we have had time to take
that fatal turn, the sure forerunner of a second
sleep, a knock, or rather a thunderclap, is heard on
the outer panels of the door, and Uncle Sam (they
always call me Uncle Sam, though I am not their
uncle, and my name is not Samuel) is summoned to

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 39

" look sharp, and dress." Too cognizant of the fact
that Uncle Sam's only chance of peace is to obey,
we splash into our tub forthwith, encase our person
in an old velveteen and gaiters, and having gulped
our coffee and hastily devoured our toast, find our-
self at nine o'clock standing on the hall steps, and
comparing guns with Jack, previous to a start for
the arable. Two keepers, a brace of perfect pointers,
and a retriever, are awaiting, even at that hour,
impatiently, our departure for the scene of action.

Two miles' walk in the soft September air serves
to brace our nerves for the work before us ; and the
head keeper and the Squire having conferred to-
gether like two generals, on our arrival at the seat
of war, we at length find ourselves placed — I should
perhaps rather say marshalled — in the turnips and
ready for the fray. What a picture it is ! how
truly English ! each sportsman's eye glistening
with excitement and pleasure, as he poises his gun,
each in his own readiest manner and favourite
position, the Squire casting his eye along the line
with the careful scrutiny of a field-marshal examin-
ing his forces previous to a final and decisive
struggle ; the two pointers, too well disciplined to
show their ardour in gestures, standing mute behind
the keeper ; Jack with his gun full-cocked and
ready to fire almost before the quarry is started ;

40 PARTRIDGE DAY

and his two brothers bursting with excitement, talk-
ing in hurried and ceaseless whispers behind the
back of Uncle Sam, bearing no distant resemblance,
as far as their half-checked ardour is concerned, to
the brace of pointers behind the keeper. But there
is no time for indulging in reverie as to the scene ;
a low " Hold up, then ! " is heard from the head-
keeper, the two graceful dogs bound forward, the
line advances, and the action has commenced. A
rabbit starts from under Jack's feet : Bang ! — and
the shot enters a turnip, a yard behind the little
white stern hopping and popping to his burrow,
despite the reiterated assurances of Master Jack
that he is hit, and who forgets to reload accordingly.
" Hold up ! " to the crouching pointers, and away
we move again, watching the graceful movements
of the dogs as they work the field before us. Eake,
a young dog in his first season, is breaking a little
too much ahead ; but ere the keeper's " Gently,
boy ! " had reached him, he has suddenly pulled up,
and, with tail stiff and leg up, is standing, motion-
less as a statue, over a covey. We advance, in the
highest excitement : — whirr ! goes bird after bird
almost singly ; and our first covey of the season
leaves two brace and a half on the field. One
o'clock comes ; we have steadily beaten turnips and
stubble, clover and mustard, and we spy a man with

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 41

a donkey and panniers on the brow of the hill in
front of us. We beat up to him, bagging a hare
and a single bird on our way, and during the half-
hour that is allowed us for our bread and cheese
and one glass of sherry, we enjoy to our heart's con-
tent the large delights of loosing our tongues, after
several hours' rigid silence. But " time is up," and
we are again on the move till six ; we are tired,
but we don't know it ; we are hungry and thirsty,
but we feel not their pangs, till, with our five-and-
twenty brace behind us in the bags, w^e strike across
the park on our homeward journey. Uncle Sam's
gun is yielded up to Master Tom to let off the
charge with the shot drawn ; but he manages
surreptitiously to obtain our shot-flask, and joins
us on the hall steps with a dead rabbit, somewhat
mauled, however, from the young rascal's having
fired at it at ten paces. We sit down to dinner in
high good-humour : — who is not, after a good day ?
We defend our sport before the ladies from the
charge of cruelty, and retire to roost so tired that
we take the precaution to lock our door, to prevent
the too early and too sure incursion of the young
Visigoths in the morning. Alas ! for the days that
are no more. Seven or eight years have passed
since that pleasant day, and Downcharge Hall again
welcomes Uncle Sam on the evening of the 31st,

42 PARTRIDGE DAY

under its hospitable roof ; I find the boys all grown
into young men ; Jack is a captain of Hussars, Tom
is a subaltern in the Engineers, and Dick has just
left Christ Church. They are still as fond as ever
of Uncle Sam, though they occasionally venture so
far nowadays, as to offer an opinion adverse to his
on sporting matters, in which his word was formerly
supreme. As I descend to dinner, I pass Jack's
room. Hailed by its tenant, of course. I enter,
and find him occupied, with care above his years, in
the adjustment of his spotless white necktie, two of
which articles, crumpled too much in the operation,
are at present adorning the floor. " Think of shooting
to-morrow, Sam ? " (The title of " uncle " has been
dropped since Jack first stroked his downy upper lip
as a second lieutenant). I stand aghast. Here is a
young man, full of health and vigour, on the even-
ing of the 31st August, questioning a fellow-man,
who has just travelled some hundred miles and more
to Downcharge Hall, with his arm round his gun-
case, as to his intention of shooting on the 1st of
September. Entertaining a faint hope that, in the
exuberance of his youthful spirits, he may be chaff-
ing his old relative, I gasp out an affirmative, and,
obeying the summons of the dinner-bell, descend
the stairs. There is a large party of guests, but
dinner proceeds with but one allusion to the morrow

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 43

and that is from Dick, who exclaims, as he fingers
the delicate stem of his champagne glass, " By-the-
hy, to-morrow will be the 1st." The piece of fowl
I was that moment in the act of swallowing stuck
in my tliroat ; my appetite was destroyed, and I
silently, but sorrowfully, resolved that for the
future no prodigy could have power to amaze me.
Our guests stayed late, and at half-past eleven
o'clock, mindful of my early rising the next day, I
began to grow fidgetty. By twelve o'clock, however,
they had all gone ; and having despatched the
ladies of the house to bed, my hand was already
grasping my bed-candle, when Tom arrested my in-
tention, bidding me, in a voice of manifest astonish-
ment at what he was pleased to call my " early
roost," to come and do a pipe or two first in Dick's
room. Labouring under the delusion that a quarter
of an hour was about to be devoted to arranging
our sporting plans, I obeyed, and after two hours
in Dick's room, spent almost entirely in discussing
the relative merits and demerits of certain ladies
and horses, found myself between the sheets at last.
Awaking with a start, in the morning, to discover
it is eight o'clock, I dress with all possible speed,
haunted the while with terrible pictures of im-
patient sportsmen below anathematizing my tardi-
ness as they wait breakfast for me, I hurry

44 PARTRIDGE DAY

down stairs, — the breakfast room is tenantless.
My first impression is that they have been unable
to curb their sporting ardour, and have started
without me. Hearing a footstep on the gravel
sweep without, I step through the open casement,
and confront a pretty dairymaid bringing in the
milk and cream for breakfast.

"Tine mornin', sir."

" Yes. Which way have they gone — can you
tell me ? "

" Same gait as ever, sir. Joe have druv 'em
down agin the fenny pasture, arter milkin' up
hinder."

" Ah ! but the gentlemen, not the cows."

" The gentlemen, is it ? Maybe if ye look in
their beds yell see 'em this time o' day."

Heaving a mighty sigh, I leave the dairymaid,
and stroll up and down the garden, listening with
increasing impatience to the distant call of the
partridges in the park. Nature at Downcharge
Hall that morning was at all events beautifully
still ; there was a slight mist, too, gradually clearing
off from the distance, which betokened very surely a
broiling day, and made me long the more to get our
seven or eight brace before the mid- day heat should
come upon us. My longings and reflections, how-
ever, were suddenly cut short by a pitying butler,

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 45

who had brought me out the Times, with the
remark that " IVFaster and the young gentlemen
seldom has their breakfasts before ten." This was
cheerful ; however, I consoled myself with the
paper, and just as I had finished discovering who
was born, married, or dead, and had commenced
reading the entreaties to return to afflicted initial
letters, &c., &c., Dick's terrier entered the room, the
forerunner of his master, who, remarking on my
actually being an earlier bird than himself, was
followed, in the course of about twenty minutes, by
the others.

" I suppose we shoot to-day : where shall we
begin ? " asks Tom.

" Oh ! we will shoot up from Brinkhill," answers
the Squire.

" Brinkhill — two miles ; — must have a trap,"
says Jack.

The two-mile walk used to be part of the order
of the day ; it gave us a little time for conversation,
prohibited from its conclusion till lunch ; it braced
one up, and made one, in sporting phraseology, " fit " ;
but nowadays a carriage is necessary, and the
young Nimrod is unequal to any fatigue beyond
that which he must necessarily undergo in pursuit
of his game. However, we are late, so I can't
object to it ; and, burning my throat in my hasty

46 PARTRIDGE DAY

disposal of my second cup of coffee, I rush upstairs
to get ready my trusty Westley Eichards, which,
by the way, is a muzzle-loader, yet does not take so
long to load as to require a man behind me with a
second gun. Five minutes, and fully equipped I
re-enter the breakfast-room, where I am astonished
to find my " get-up " creates unfeigned amazement.

" What ! ready now ! " says Tom ; " wdiat's the
use of being in such a hurry ? — let's do a pipe and
a game of billiards first."

" Ah, by-the-by," adds Dick, " what time shall
we start ? Better have the trap at twelve — quite
early enough, eh ? "

So Jack betakes himself to the newspaper ; I am
dragged off in disgust to the billiard-room ; and the
Squire goes off to show old Jones, who is staying
here, all about the gardens, &c.

How I loathe the gardens from that moment ! —
how every shrub became a bugbear, every flower a
poisonous weed, to my jaundiced eye, as I mentally
abused my host for not turning out everybody sooner,
and doing things smarter ! My temper is rapidly
vanishing ; I have been beaten in two games by
Tom, to whom T used formerly to allow fifteen out
of fifty ; I am smoking a cigar of Dick's (a bad one
I think it, of course), when suddenly the sound of
wheels breaks on my ear, and rushing madly to my

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 47

room again, I don my shot-belt, I pocket wads,
powder, and caps, shoulder my gun, and in two
minutes am seated in the elegant little double dog-
cart, waiting in a broiling sun for these tardy
sportsmen. I have sat for full a quarter of an
hour, when Jack strolls out, and, in a voice as
though nothing had or was about to happen,
exclaims —

" Hallo, Sam ! are you ready ? I must go and
dress." And this to a man who has been gaitered
since half-past eight. At half-past twelve he re-
appeared, dressed in magnificent apparel, the result
of Poole's and Anderson's united efforts, and examin-
ing, to the increase of my impatience, the elaborate
locks of a bran new breech-loader. Formerly, we
used to take care of that sort of thing the night be-
fore at the latest. However, our horses are good
ones, and Dick, who knows very well how to handle
them — about the only thing I can say for him —
puts them along in very neat form at a brisk pace
to Brinkhill. This is all very pleasant ; and as we
near the ground my spirits begin to rise again. It
takes us, however, at least twenty minutes to dis-
cuss which is the most advantageous beat — a matter
which used to be settled as we came along ; but I
am at last on the move, and begin to forget the past
grievances, only hoping they won't strike work too

48 PARTRIDGE DAY

early. It is the same old field in which I so well
remember Jack making his debiXt and missing the
rabbit; but I miss the eager faces of those days
sadly ; it doesn't seem the same thing to me ; half
the pleasure of a thing, after all, is in enjoying it
in company ; but that half is sadly marred if the
said company are cool in their enjoyment. The dogs,
too, are disgustingly wild now. Old Eake breaks
fence and flushes our first covey long out of gun-
shot, my disgust at which is further augmented by
one of the keepers, as wild as the dog, breaking line
and starting a hare, as remote as the partridges, by
his loud imprecations after the miscreant, who is
utterly deaf alike to whistle, threats, and entreaties.
There is fault enough here ; but it doesn't lie en-
tirely with the keeper ; it is too evident there is an
absence of the eye of the master. If the Squire
grows indifferent to their proceedings, he can scarcely
expect his dogs and keepers to be what they were ;
the keeper gets lazy or dishonest, the dogs' training
is neglected, and by-and-by they become useless or
worse than useless, and their services are discarded.
Now if there is one thing more than another which
enhances the pleasure of a day's partridge-shooting,
it is to watch a brace of well-trained pointers work
a field. Why is it then — for obviously it is so —
that the use of dogs, and especially of setters

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 49

and pointers in the field, is gradually being
discarded ?

But to proceed. As soon as order is tolerably
restored, we advance again, and pretty steadily beat
two or three fields, bagging, with an unheard-of
amount of missing, about two brace of birds. We
are just entering the next field, when the Brinkhill
tenant rides up and asks us all in to lunch. Ye
gods, what a feast ! Some years ago some bread
and cheese, and perhaps a couple of glasses of
sherry under a hedge was considered ample on
these occasions. Now, however, I have before me
an elegant repast of ham and tongue, of fowls and
lamb, of pies and fruit, of beer and sherry, port and
claret, such as would have shamed the epicurean
deities of heathen mythology quaffing ambrosial
nectar on the heights of Olympus. With a hope-
less shudder I deposit my gun in a corner of the
room and take my seat. We breakfasted at ten,
but the " unwonted " exercise (alas ! it should be so)
has given the youngsters an appetite, and their
tongues are tied for ten minutes, before worthy Mr
Shorthorn, the tenant, produces a bottle of " that
very fine old port" he so wishes the Squire to
taste. I am not exaggerating when I state that
lunch lasted a good hour. Then his pigs are in-
spected, and what with the wine and the waiting, I

50 PARTRIDGE DAY

can well foresee what will happen to our sport :
tongues will be loosed ; misses will, if possible, in-
crease ; and I feel convinced that the partridges will
have little to fear from us for this afternoon, at all
events. However, we do manage at last to get
away by about half-past three or four o'clock, and
commence beating a very promising piece of stubble.
I have just bagged a hare, and the dogs have been
reduced, by dint of much rating, into a state of
downcharge whilst I load, when something is heard
galloping behind us, and Dick, who had stayed be-
hind, as we thought, to fill his powder-flask, appears
in the field trying the paces of the tenant's young
one. Althoucjh he is well behind the beat, the
galloping horse forms a disturbing element to the
guns. Dick rides over the low fence at the end,
round the next field, and finally returns right
in the way of a shot I might have had at a
landrail. I don't swear, because T don't approve
thereof, and, moreover, am moderate in my temper ;
but this is indeed trying, and, to make matters
worse, the fellow doesn't appear in the least bit
ashamed of himself, but quietly dismounts, feels the
legs of the colt carefully down, and, refusing to take
his gun from the keepers, remarks that he is tired
of missing, and (to my joy) shall go home. A
prudent resolve, as he had fired at least twenty or

AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS 51

thirty shots without touching a featlier, as it seemed
to my heated imagination ; but the keeper, with a
presence the late Due de Morny might have envied,
urges him " not to give over yet ; he might 'ave a
haccident and hit summut." Laughter is irresistible,
but Dick's ardour is not equal to trusting to this
remote contingency, so he wends his way home-
wards, for a wonder, on his own legs. The rest of
us proceed again, but the shooting is, if possible,
worse than before lunch ; and as we enter the park
again I ask, in a dejected tone of the head keeper,
' What is the bag ? " " Seven brace, three hares,
and one rabbit." I turn away with a sigh, and
mentally resolve to remove from my head, in the
solitude of my chamber, on my return, the hairs —
the many hairs — that must have turned grey during
that terrible day ; and I join the rest to reseek the
hall, a sadder and a sulkier man. We enter the
billiard-room at six, to find Dick engaged in a game
of billiards with his pretty cousin, Lucy Hazard —
the dog ! but feeling that he deserves nothing at
our hands, we break the tetc-a-tete and summon the
other ladies for a pool. Lucy has been chaffing
Master Dick about " being such a muff as to return
so soon." Quite right — an uncommonly nice girl
is Miss Lucy, and with £50,000 of her own, too,
they say. If I were ten years younger, I think I

52 PARTRIDGE DAY AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS

would marry her (I am far too vain to doubt her
consent), and get some shooting of my own, — some
shooting, sir, conducted on my own principles : I
don't care much for the Downcharge Hall style of
doing business. " C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est
pas la guerre," remarked a French general, as he
levelled his glass at our light squadrons charging
through the bloody vale of Balaklava. " C'est
luxurieux, mais ce n'est pas le sport," remarks the
writer of this grumble, as he levels his pen at the
sportsmen of Downcharge Hall and all who may
resemble them.

SIMPSON'S SNIPE

" Who is Mr Simpson ? " asked my wife, tossing a
letter across the breakfast-table. This same little
lady opens my correspondence with the sang-froid
of a private secretary.

'' Who is Mr Simpson ? " she repeated. ''If he
is as big as his monogram, we shall have to widen
all the doors, and raise the ceilings, in order to let
him in."

The monogram referred to resembled a pyro-
technic device. It blazed in all the colours of the
rainbow, and twisted itself like the coloured worsted
in a young lady's first sampler.

" Simpson," I replied, in, I must confess, a
tremulous sort of way, " is a very nice fellow, and
a capital shot."

" I perceive that you have asked him to shoot."

" Only for a day and a night, my dear."

" Only for a day and a night ! And where is

Willie to sleep, and where is Blossie to sleep ?

You know the dear children are in the strangers'

rooms for change of air, and really I must say it is

I E 53

54 Simpson's snipe

very thoughtless of you ; " and my wife's nez re-
trouss6 went up at a very acute angle, whilst a
general hardness of expression settled itself upon
her countenance, like a plaster cast.

I had a bad case. I had been dining with a
friend, my friend Captain de Britska. I had taken
sherry with my soup, hock with my fish, champagne
with my entree, and a nip of brandy before my
claret. What I imbibed after the Lafitte I scarcely
remember. Mr Simpson was of the party, and sat
next to me. He forced a succession of cigars into
my mouth, and subsequently a mixture of tobacco,
a special thing. (What smoker, by the way, hasn't
a special thing in the shape of a mixture ? what
gourmet has no special tip as regards salad-dressing ?)
We spoke of shooting. He asked me if I had any.
I replied in the affirmative, expressing a hope that
he would at some time or other practically discuss
that fact. Somehow I was led into a direct invita-
tion, and this was the outcome. I had committed
myself beneath my friend's mahogany, and under
the influence of my friend's generous wine. I was
in a corner ; and now, ye gods ! I had to face
Mrs Smithe. There are moments when a man's
wife is simply awful. Snugly entrenched behind
the unassailable line of defence, duty, and with
such " Woolwich Infants " as her children to hurl

SIMPSONS SNIPE 55

against you, which she does in a persistent remorse-
less way, she is a terror. ISTo man, be he as brave
as Leonidas or as cool as Sir Charles Coldstream, is
proof against the partner of his bosom when she is
on the rampage ; and, as I have already observed,
Mrs S. was " end on."

"Another change will do the children good,
Maria," I observed.

" Yes, I suppose so. It will do Willie's cold
good to sleep in your dressing-room without a fire,
won't it ? and Blossie can have a bed made
up in the bath. Is this Mr Simpson married or
single ? "

Hinc nice lachrymce. I couldn't say. I never
asked him.

'' What does it matter ? " I commenced, with a
view to diplomatising.

" Yes, but it does," she interposed. " If he is a
respectable married man, which I very much doubt,
he must have dear Willie's room."

" I am very sorry that I asked him at all, Maria ;
but as he has been asked, and as I must drive over
to meet him in a few minutes, for Heaven's sake
make the best of it."

" Oh, of course ; I receive my instructions, and
am to carry them out. All the trouble falls upon
me, while you drive off to the station smoking a

56 Simpson's snipe

shilling cigar, when you know that every penny will
be wanted to send Willie to Eton."

I got out of it somehow. Not that Mrs S. was
entirely pacified. She still preserved an armed
neutrality ; yet even this concession was very much
to be coveted. She's a dear good little creature,
but she has fiery moods occasionally ; and I ask
you, my dear sir, is she one whit the worse for it ?
How often does your good lady fly at yoic during
the twenty-four hours ? How often ! The theme
is painful. Fassons.

My stained-wood trap was brought round by my
man-of-all-work, Billy Doyle. Billy is a tight
little " boy," over whose unusually large skull some
fifty summers' suns have passed, scorching away
his shock hair, and leaving only a few streaks,
which he carefully plasters across his bald pate till
they resemble so many cracks upon the bottom of an
inverted china bowl. Billy is my factotum. He looks
after my horse, dogs, gun, rod, pipes, and clothes,
with a view to the reversion of the latter. He was
reared, " man an' boy," on the estate, and is upon the
most familiar yet respectful terms with the whole
family. Billy continually lectures me, imparting his
opinions upon all matters appertaining to my affairs,
as though he were some rich uncle whose will in my
favour was safely deposited with the family solicitor.

Simpson's snipe 57

" We've twenty minutes to meet the train, Billy,"
I observed, giving the reins a jerk.

" Is it for to ketch the tin-o'clock thrain from
Dublin ? " he asked.

" Yes."

" Begorra, ye've an hour ! She's like yourself —
she's always late."

** There's a gentleman coming down to spend the
day and shoot," I said, without noticing Billy's
sarcasm.

" Shoot ! Arrah, shoot what ? "

" Why, snipe, plover — anything that may turn

up-"

" Be jabers, he'll have for to poach, thin."

" What do you mean, Billy ? "

" Divvle resave the feather there is betune
this an' Ballybann ; they're dhruv out av the
cunthry."

" Nonsense, man. We'll get a snipe in Booker's
fields."

" Ye will, av ye sind to Dublin for it."

I felt rather down in the mouth, for I had dur-
ing the season given unlimited permission to my
surrounding neighbours to blaze away — a privilege
which had been used, if not abused, to the utmost
limits. Scarce a day passed that we were not
under fire, and on several occasions were in a state

58 Simpson's snipe

of siege, in consequence of a succession of raids
upon the rookeries adjoining the house.

" We can try Mr Pringle's woods, Billy."

" Yez had betther lave thim alone, or the coroner
'ill be afther havin' a job. Pringie wud shoot his
father sooner nor he'd let a bird be touched."

" This is very awkward," I muttered.

" Awkward ! sorra a shurer shake in Chrisendom.
It's crukkeder nor what happened to ould Major
Moriarty beyant at Sievenaculliagh, that me father
— may the heavens be his bed this day ! — lived
wud, man an' boy."

Billy was full of anecdote, and being anxious to
pull my thoughts together, I mechanically requested
him to let me hear all about the dilemma in which
the gallant Major had found himself.

" Well, sir, th' ould Major was as dacent an ould
gintleman as ever swallied a glass o' sperrits, an'
there was always lashins an' lavins beyant at the
house. If ye wor hungry it was yerself that was
for to blame, and if ye wor dhry, it wasn't be raisin
av wantin' a goUiogue. Th' ould leddy herself was
aiqual to the Major, an' a hospitabler ould cupple
didn't live the Shannon side o' Connaught. Well,
sir, wan mornin' a letther cums, sayin' that some
frind was comin' for to billet on thim.

" ' Och, I'm bet ! ' says the Mrs Moriarty.

Simpson's snipe 59

" ' What's that yer sayin' at all at all ? ' says th'
ould Major ; ' who bet ye ? ' says he.

" ' Shiire, here's Sir Timothy Blake, and Misther
Bodkin Bushe, an' three more comin',' says she, ' an'
this is only Wednesday.'

" ' Arrah, what the dickens has that for to say to
it ? ' says the Major.

" ' There's not as much fresh mate in the house as
wud give a brequest to a blackbird,' says she ; ' an'
they all ate fish av a Friday, an' how are we for to
get it at all at all ? An' they'll be wantin' fish an'
game.'

'' Ye see, sir," said Billy, " there was little or no
roads in thim ould times, an' the carriers only crassed
that way wanst a week."

" ' We're hobbled, sure enough,' says the Major,
* we're hobbled, mam,' says he, ' an' I wish they'd
had manners to wait to be axed afore they'd come
into a man's house,' he says.

" ' Couldn't ye shoot somethin' ? ' says Mrs
Moriarty.

" ' Shoot a haystack flyin', mam,' says the Major,
for he was riz, an' when he was riz the divvle
cudn't hould him ; ' what is there for to shoot, barrin'
a saygull ? an' ye might as well be aitin' saw -dust.'

" ' I seen three wild duck below on the pond,'
she says.

60 SIMPSONS SNIPE

" ' Ye did on Tib's Eve ! ' says the Major.

''' Ocli, begorra, it's thrutli I'm tellin' ye/ says
she ; ' I seen thim this very mornin', when I was
comin' from mass — an' be the same token,' says she,
lukkin' out av the windy, ' there they are, rosy an'
well.'

" ' Thin upon my conscience, mam,' roared the
Major, ' if I don't hit thim I'll make them lave that ! '

" So he ups an' loads an ould blundherbuss wud
all soarts av combusticles, an' down he creeps to the
edge av the wather, and hides hisself in some long
grass, for the ducks was heddin' for him. Up they
cum ; an' the minnit they wor within a cupple av
perch he pulls the thrigger as bould as a ram, whin
by the hokey smut it hot him a welt in the stum-
mick that levelled him, an' med him feel as if
tundher was inside av him rumblin'. He roared
millia murdher, for he thought he was kilt ; but
howsomever he fell soft an' aisy, an' he put out his
hand for to see if he was knocked to bits behind,
whin, begorra, he felt somethin' soft an' warm.
* Arrah, what the puck is this ? ' sez he ; an' turnin'
round, what was he sittin' on but an illigant Jack
hare. ' Yer cotch, ma bouchal,' sez he ; ' an' yer as
welkim as the flowers o' May.'

" Wasn't that a twist o' luck, sir ? " asked Billy
pausing to take breath.

Simpson's snipe 61

" Not a doubt of it. But what became of the
ducks ? "

" Troth, thin, ye'U hear. The Major dhropped
two av thim wud the combusticles in the blundher-
buss, but th' ould mallard kep' floatin' on the wather
in a quare soart av a way, an' yellin' murdher.
When the Major kem nigh him, he seen that he
was fastened like to somethin' undher the wather;
an whin he cotch him, what do you think he found ?
It's truth I'm tellin' ye, an' no lie : he found the ram-
rod, that he neglected for to take out o' the gun, run
right through th' ould mallard. Half av it was in
the mallard, an' be the hole in me coat, th' other
half was stuck in a lovely lump av a salmon ; and
the bould Major cotch thim both. ' Now,' says he,
' come on, Sir Tim an the whole creel of yez, who's
afeard ? ' An' I'm just thinkin sir," added Billy,
as we dashed into the railway yard, " that if ye
don't get a slice av luck like Major Moriarty's, yer
frind might as well be on the Hill o' Howth."

The force of Billy's remark riveted itself in my
mind, and the idea of asking a man so long a dis-
tance to shoot nothing was very little short of insult.
Mr Simpson arrived as we drove in, arrayed in an
ulster just imported from Inverness. His hat was
new ; his boots were new ; his gloves awfully new,
yellow and stiff, and forcing his fingers very far

62 Simpson's snipe

apart, as though his hands were wooden stretchers.
His portmanteau, solid leather, was brand new ; the
very purse from which he extracted a new sixpence
to tip the porter was of the same virgin type. He
w^as mistaken for a bridegroom, and the fair bride
was eagerly sought for by the expectant porter
whilst removing a new rug from the compartment
in which Mr Simpson had been seated. To crown
all this newness, his gun-case, solid leather, had
never seen the open air till this day, and the iron
which impressed upon it Mr Eigby's brand could
scarcely have had time to grow cold.

'•' Begorra, it's in the waxworks he ought for to
be," muttered Billy Doyle, grimly surveying him
from head to foot.

Mr Simpson's thick moustache possessed a queer
sort of curl, his nose too, followed this pattern, so
that his face somewhat resembled those three legs
which are impressed upon a Manx coin. His eyes
were long slits, with narrow lids, not unlike a cut
in a kid glove: one of these eyes he kept open by
means of an eyeglass. This eyeglass was perpetually
dropping into his bosom and disappearing, never
coming to the surface when required, and only
coming up to breathe after a succession of prolonged
and abortive dives.

" It's very cold," he exclaimed, grasping my

Simpson's snipe 63

hand, or rather endeavouring to grasp it, for the
new gloves would admit of no loving contact.

" There's likker over beyant at the rifrishmint-
bar," observed Billy, whose invariable habit it was
to cut into the conversation with such comments or
observations as suggested themselves to him at the
moment.

Perceiving an inclination on the part of my guest
to profit by the hint, I interposed by informing him
that the refreshment was of the meanest possible
character, in addition to its possessing a very in-
flammatory tendency.

" Thrue for ye, sir. The sperrits is that sthrong
that it wud desthroy warts, or burn the paint off av
a hall dure."

" That will do, Billy," I said, as Simpson's face
bore silent tokens of wonder at the garrulity of
my retainer. " We don't require your opinion at
present."

" Och, that's hapes, as Missis Dooley remarked
whin she swallird the crab," said Billy very sulkily,
as he mounted behind.

" How is our friend De Britska ? " I asked.

" Oh, very well indeed. He quite envied me my
trip. He says your shooting is about the best thing
in this part of the world."

"Oh, it's not bad," I replied, assuming an in-

64 Simpson's snipe

difference that I was far from participating in ;
" but there are times when I assure — ha, ha ! it
may appear incredulous, that we cannot stir a single
feather."

" Have you much snipe, Mr Smithe ? "

" Sorra a wan," replied Billy.

" Your gamekeeper ? " asked Simpson, jerking his
head in the direction of my retainer.

" My factotum. He is one of the family. A
regular character, and I trust you will make allow-
ances for him."

" I love characters. Depend upon it we shall
not fall out."

Simpson chatted very agreeably, and very small.
He had read the Irish Times during the rail jour-
ney, and was master of the situation. Some men
take five shillings-worth out of a penny paper. This
was one of them. He had sucked it all in, and the
day's news was coming out through the pores of his
skin. As a rule, such men are to be avoided.
The individual who persistently asks you "What
news ? " or " Is there anything new to-day ? " is a
wooden-headed gossiping bore, who cannot start an
idea, and oils the machinery inside his skull with
the twopenny-halfpenny daily currency. Simpson
spoke a great deal of the army, quoted the various
changes mentioned in that day's Gazette with a vigour

Simpson's snipe 65

of memory that was perfectly astounding. Although
personally unknown to the countrymen around me,
he seemed thoroughly acquainted with their respec-
tive pedigrees, their intermarriages, their rent-rolls,
and in fact with their most private concerns ; so
that before we reached our destination I knew con-
siderably more of my neighbours than I, or my
father before me, had ever known.

His shooting experiences were of the most exten-
sive and daring character. He had tumbled tigers,
stuck pigs, iced white bears, and ostracised ostriches.
He had been in the tiger's mouth, on the boar's
tusks, and in the arms of the bear. His detailed
information on the subject of firearms was worthy
of a gunmaker's pet 'prentice.

" I've shot with Greener's patent central-fire choke-
bore, and I pronounce it a handy tool. Westley
Richards has made some good instruments, and
Purdy's performances are crack. I've taken down
one of Eigby's with me, as I have some idea of ex-
perimentalising ; Piigby is a very safe maker. I
expect to do some damage to-day, friend Smithe."

What a laughing-stock I should be, when this
man unfolded the tale of his being decoyed into the
country by a fellow who bragged about his preserves,
upon which there wasn't a feather ! Would I make
a clean breast of it ? would I say that —

66 SIMPSONS SNIPE

While this struggle was waging beneath my waist-
coat, w^e arrived, and there was nothing for it but to
trust to luck and Billy Doyle.

When we alighted, I asked Simpson into the
drawing-room, as his bed-chamber had not yet been
allotted to him. My wife was still sulky and did
not appear, so I had to discover her whereabouts.

" Simpson has arrived, my dear."

" I suppose so," very curtly.

" He is a very agreeable entertaining fellow."

" I suppose so," she snapped.

" Where have you decided on putting him ? "

" In your dressing-room."

" My dressing-room ? "

" Yes, your dressing-room. I wouldn't disturb
the children for the Prince of Wales."

Now this was very shabby of my wife. My
dressing-room was my sanctum sanctorum. There
were my papers, letters, pipes, boots, knick-knacks,
all laid out with a bachelor's care, and each in its
own particular place. To erect a bedstead meant an
utter disturbance of my effects, which weeks could
not repair, especially as regards my papers. I
expostulated.

" There is no use in talking," said my wife ; " the
bed is put up."

Tableau.

Simpson's snipe 67

Whilst my guest was engaged in washing his
hands before luncheon, I held a conference with
Billy Doyle with reference to the shooting, our line
of country, and the tactics necessary to be pursued.

" Me opinion is that he is a gommoch. He doesn't
know much. Av he cum down wud an old "un-case
that was in the wars, I'd be peckened ; but wud sich
a ginteel tool, ye needn't fret. We'll give him a
walk, anyhow. He'll get a bellyful that will heart
scald him."

"But the honour of the country is at stake,
Billy. I asked Mr Simpson to shoot, promising him
good sport, and surely you are not going to let him
return to Dublin to give us a bad name."

This appeal to Billy's feelings was well timed.
He knew every fence and every nest in the barony,
and it was with a view to putting things into a proper
training that I thus appealed to his better feelings.

Billy scratched his head.

" Begorra, he must have a bird if they're in it ; but
they're desperate wild, and take no ind of decoyin'."

Simpson's politeness to my wife was unbounded.
He professed himself charmed to have the honour
of making her acquaintance, took her in to luncheon
with as much tender care as though she had been a
cracked bit of very precious china ware ; invited
her to partake of everything on the table, shoving

68 Simpson's snipe

the dishes under her chin, and advising her as to
what to eat, drink, and avoid. He narrated stories
of noble families with whom he was upon the most
intimate terms, and assured my wife that he was
quite startled by her extraordinary likeness to Lady
Sarah Macwhirter ; which so pleased Mrs S. that
later on she informed me that as Blossie was so
much better, she thought it would be more polite
to give Mr Simpson the blue bedroom.

I found this ardent sportsman very much inclined
to dally in my lady's boudoir, in preference to taking
the field, and I encouraged this proclivity, in the
hope of escaping the shooting altogether, and thus
save the credit of my so-called preserves. But
here again I was doomed to disappointment. Mrs
S., who now began to become rather anxious about
the domestic arrangements, politely but firmly re-
minded him of the object of his visit, and insisted
upon our departing for the happy hunting-grounds
at once. And at length, when very reluctantly he
rose from the table, he helped himself to a stiff
glass of brandy-and-water, in order, as he stated, to
" steady his hand."

I must confess that I was rather startled when
he announced his intention of shooting in his ulster.
The idea of dragging this long-tailed appendage
across ditches and over bogs appeared outre, espe-

Simpson's snipe 69

cially as the pockets bulged very considerably, as
though they were loaded with woollen wraps ; but
I was silent in the presence of one who had sought
his quarry in the jungle, and shoved my old-fashioned
idea back into the fusty lumber-room of my thoughts.
Billy Doyle awaited us with the dogs at the stable
gate. These faithful animals no sooner perceived
me than they set up an unlimited howling of delight ;
but instead of bounding forward to meet me, as was
their wont, they suddenly stopped, as if struck
by an invisible hand, and commenced to set at
Simpson.

This extraordinary conduct of these dogs — there
are no better dogs in Ireland — incensed Billy to
fever heat.

" Arrah, what the puck are yez settin' at ? Are
yez mad or dhrunk ? Whoop 1 gelang ow a that,
Feltram ! Hush ! away wud ye, BirdHme 1 "

" Take them away ; take them away ! " cried
Simpson, very excitedly. " I don't want them ; I
never shoot with dogs. Eemove them, my man."

Billy caught Feltram, but Birdlime eluded his
grasp ; and having released Feltram and captured
Birdlime, the former remained at a dead set, whilst
the latter struggled with his captor, as though the
lives of both depended on the issue.

" May the divvle admire me," panted Billy, " but

I F

70 Simpson's snipe

this bangs Banagher. Is there a herrin' stirriii', or
anything for to set the dogs this way ? — it bates
me intirely."

I naturally turned to my guest, who looked as
puzzled as I did myself.

" I have it ! " he cried ; " it's the blood of the
sperm-whale that's causing this."

" Arrah, how the blazes cud the blood av all the
whales in Ireland make thim shupayriour animals
set as if the birds were foreninst them ? " demanded
Billy, his arms akimbo.

" I will explain," said Simpson. " Last autumn
I was up whaling off the coast of Greenland. We
struck a fine fish ; and after playing him for three-
and-twenty hours, we got him aboard. Just as we
were taking the harpoon out, he made one despair-
ing effort and spurted blood ; a few drops fell upon
this coat, just here," pointing to the inside por-
tion of his right-hand cuff, " and I pledge you my
veracity no dog can withstand it. They invariably
point ; and I assure you, Smithe, you could get up
a drag hunt by simply walking across country
in this identical coat, built by John Henry
Smalpage."

This startling and sensational explanation satisfied
me. Not so my factotum, who gave vent in an un-
dertone to such exclamations as '' Nabodish ! Wirra.

Simpson's snipe 71

■loirra ! What does he take us for ? Whales,
begorra ! "

The riddance of the dogs was a grand coup for
me. In the event of having no sport the faihire
could be easily accounted for, and I should come
off with flying colours.

" I make it a point," observed Simpson, " to shoot
as little with dogs as possible. I like to set my
own game, shoot it, and bag it ; nor do I care to
be followed by troublesome and often impertinent
self-opinionated game-keepers " (Billy was at this
moment engaged in incarcerating Feltram and Bird-
lime). " These fellows are always spoilt, and never
know their position."

I was nettled at this.

" If you refer to "

" My dear Smithe, I allude to my friend Lord
Mulligatawny's fellows, got up in Lincoln green
and impossible gaiters, who insist upon loading for
you, and all that sort of thing. You know Mulli-
gatawny, of course ? "

I rather apologised for not having the honour. *

" Then you shall, Smithe. I'll bring you together
when you come to town. Leave that to me ; a nice
little party: Mulligatawny, Sir Percy Whiffler, Colonel
Owlfinch of the 1st Life Guards — they're at Beggar's
Bush now, I suppose — Belgum, yourself, and myself."

72 Simpson's snipe

This was very considerate and flattering ; and I
heartily hoped that by some fluke or other we
might be enabled to make a bag.

When we arrived upon the shooting-ground, I
observed that it was time to load ; and calling up
Billy Doyle with the guns, I proceeded to carry my
precept into practice. My weapon was an old-
fashioned muzzle-loader, one of Truelock & Harris's ;
and as I went through the process of loading, I
could see that Mr Simpson was regarding my
movements with a careful and critical eye.

" I know that you swells despise this sort of
thing," I remarked ; " but I have dropped a good
many birds with this gun at pretty long ranges, and
have wiped the eyes of many a breech-loading party."

" I — I like that sort of gun," said Simpson.
" I'd be glad if you'd take this," presenting his,
with both barrels covering me.

*' Good heavens, don't do that ! " I cried, shoving
the muzzle aside.

''What — what — " he cried, whirling round like
a teetotum — " what have I done ? "

" N'othing as yet ; but I hate to have the muzzle
of a gun turned towards me since the day I saw
poor cousin Jack's brains blown out."

" What am I to do ? " exclaimed Simpson. " I'll
do anything."

Simpson's snipe 73

" It's all right," I replied ; " you won t mind my
old-world stupidity."

My guest's gun was a central-fire breech-loader
of Rigby's newest type, which he commenced to
prepare for action in what seemed to me to be a
very bungling sort of way. He dropped it twice,
and in releasing the barrels, brought them into very
violent collision with his head, which caused the
waters of anguish to roll silently down his cheeks
and on to his pointed moustache. If I had not
been aware of his manifold experiences in the
shooting line, I could have set him down as a man
who had never handled a gun in his life ; but
knowing his powers and prowess, I ascribed his
awkwardness to simple carelessness, a carelessness
in all probability due to the smallness of the game
of which he was now in pursuit. I therefore re-
frained from taking any notice, and from making
any observation until he deliberately proceeded to
thrust a patent cartridge into the muzzle of the
barrel of his central-fire.

" Hold hard, Mr Simpson ; you are surely only
jesting."

" Jesting ! How do you mean ? "

"Why, using that cartridge in the way you are
doing."

" What other way should I use it ? "

74 Simpson's snipe

" May I again remind you that I am utterly averse
to facetiousness where firearms are concerned, and — "

" My dear Smithe, I meant nothing, I assure
you. I pledge you my word of honour. Here,
load it yourself ; " and he handed me the gun.

" There'll be a job for the coroner afore sunset,"
growled Billy.

" What do you mean, sir ? " exclaimed Simpson,
rather savagely.

" Mane ! There's widdys and lone orphans
enough in the counthry, sir — that's what I mane,"
and Billy started in advance with the air of a man
who had to do or die.

Mr Simpson was silent for some time, during
which he found himself perpetually involved in his
gun, which appeared to give him the uttermost un-
easiness. First, he held it at arm's length as if it
was a bow ; then he placed it under his arm, and
held on to it with the tenacity of an octopus ; after
a little he shifted it again, sloping it on his shoulder,
ever and anon glancing towards the barrels to
ascertain their exact position. He would pause,
place the butt against the ground, and survey the
surrounding prospect with the scrutinising gaze of
a cavalry patrol.

" Hush ! " he suddenly exclaimed. " We lost
something that time ; I heard a bird."

Simpson's snipe 75

" Xotbin', barrin' a crow," observed Billy.

" A plover, sir ; it was the cry of a plover,"
evasively retorted the other.

" Holy Vargiii ! do ye hear this ? A pluvver !
Divvle resave the pluvver ever was seen in the
barony !"

" Silence, Doyle ! " I shouted, finding that my
retainer's observations were becoming personal and
unpleasant.

" Troth, we'll all be silent enough by-an'-by."

We had been walking for about half an hour,
when Mr Simpson suggested that it might be
advisable to separate, he taking one direction, I
taking the other, but both moving in parallel lines.
Having joyfully assented to this proposition, as the
careless manner in which he handled his gun was
fraught with the direst consequences, I moved into
an adjacent bog, leaving my guest to blaze away at
what I considered a safe distance. I took Billy
with me, both for company and for counsel, as my
guest's assumed ignorance of the fundamental prin-
ciples of shooting had somewhat puzzled me.

" It's a quare bisniss intirely, Masther Jim. He
knows no more how to howld a gun nor you do to
howld a baby, more betoken ye've two av the finest
childre — God be good to them ! — in Europe. I
don't like for to say he's coddin' us, wud his tigers

7Q Simpson's snipe

an' elephants an' combusticles, but, be me song, it
Inks very like it. I'd like for to see him shootin',
that wud putt an ind to the question."

At this moment, bang ! bang ! went the two
barrels of my guest's gun. Billy and I ran to the
hedge, and peeping through, perceived Simpson run-
ning very fast towards a clump of furze, shouting
and gesticulating violently. I jumped across the
fence, and was rapidly approaching him, when he
waved me back.

" Stop ! don't come near me ! I'm into them.
There are quantities of snipe here."

" Arrah, what is he talkin' about at all at all ? "
panted Billy. '' Snipes ! Cock him up wud snipes !
There ain't a snipe "

Here Simpson, who had been groping amongst
the furze, held up to our astonished gaze two brace
of snipe,

Billy Doyle seemed completely dumbfounded.
" That bangs anything I ever heerd tell of. Man
nor boy ever seen a snipe in that field afore.
Begorra, he's handy enough wud the gun, after all."

I was very much pleased to find that our excur-
sion had borne fruit, and that my vaunted preserves
were not utterly barren.

" That's a good beginning, Simpson," I cried.
" Go ahead ; you'll get plenty of birds by-and-by."

Simpson's snipe 77

" I'll shoot at nothing but snipe," he replied.
" Here you, Billy, come here and load for me."

" Let's look at the birds, av ye plaze, sir," said
Billy, who began to entertain a feeling akin to
respect for a man who could bring down his two
brace at a shot. " I'll be bound they're fat an'
cosy, arter the hoighth av fine feedin' on this slob."

" They're in my bag. By-and-by," replied Simp-
son curtly. " Now, my man, follow your master,
and leave me to myself ; " and my guest strode in
the opposite direction.

Bang ! bang !

" Be the mortial, he's at thim agin. This is shu-
payriour," cried my retainer, hurrying towards the
place whence the report proceeded.

Simpson again held up hvo brace of snipe, and
again plunged them into his bag ; nor would he
gratify the justifiable longings of our gamekeeper
by as much as a peep at them.

" This is capital sport. Why, this place is swarm-
ing with snipe," cried my guest, whilst his gun was
being reloaded. '' Depend upon it, it's a mistake to
take dogs. The birds smell them. I'll try that bit
of bog now."

" Ye'll have to mind yer futtin'," observed Billy.
*' It's crukked an' crass enough in some spots ; I'd
betther be wid ye."

78 Simpson's snipe

" Certainly not," said my guest. " I always shoot
alone."

" Ocli, folly yer own wish, sir ; only mind yer
futtin'."

Mr Simpson disappeared into the hollow in which
the bog was situated, and, as before, bang ! bang !
we heard the report of both barrels.

" Be jabers, I'm bet intirely. Thim snipes must
have been dhruv from the say, an' have come here
unknownst to any wan. Ay, l;)awl away ! Whisht !
be the hokey, he's into the bog ! "

A dismal wailing, accompanied by cries for help,
arose from out the bog, where w^e found poor Simp-
son almost up to his chin, and endeavouring to
support himself by his elbows.

" Ugh ! ugh ! lift me out, for heaven's sake ! My
new clothes — this coat that I never put on before "
(his whaling garment) — " why did I come to this
infernal hole. Ugh ! ugh ! "

We dragged him up, leaving his patent boots and
stockings behind him. Billy bore him on his back
to tlie house, where he was stripped and arrayed in
evening costume.

From the pockets of his ulster, whicli it was
found necessary to turn out for drying purposes,
Mr William Doyle extracted no less than six brace
of snipe. Unfortunately for Mr Simpson the bill

Simpson's snipe 7&

was attached to the leg of one of the birds. They
had been purchased at a poulterer's in Dublin.

#42, .AX, 4£. 4£.

T?" W W "TT

Mr Simpson did not remain to dine or to sleep.
He pleaded a business engagement which he had
completely overlooked, and left by the 4.50 train.

" Av all th' imposthors ! and his tigers an'
elephants no less, an' bears an' algebras ! An'
goin' for to cod me into believin' there was snipes
growin' in a clover-field, an' thin never to gi' me a
shillin' ! Pah ! the naygur ! " and Billy Doyle's
resentment recognised no limits.

It is scarcely necessary to observe that I was not
invited to meet Lord Mulligatawny, Sir Percy
Whiffler, and Colonel Owlfinch of Her Majesty's
Guards, and that my wife holds Simpson over me
whenever I hint at the probability of a visit to
the metropolis.

PODGERS' POINTEE

I AM not a sporting man — I never possessed either
a dog or a gun — I never fired a shot in my life, and
the points of a canine quadruped are as unknown
to me as those of the sea-serpent. The 12th of
August is a mystery, and the 1st of September a
sealed book. I have been regarded with well-
merited contempt at the club by asking for grouse
in the month of June, and for woodcock in Sep-
tember. I think it is just as well to mention these
matters, lest it should be supposed that I desire to
sail under false colours. I am acquainted with
several men who shoot, and also with some who
have shooting to give away. The former very
frequently invite me to join their parties at the
moors, turnip-fields, and woods; the latter press
their shooting on me, especially when I decline on
the grounds of disinclination and incapacity.

'' I wish I had your chances, Brown," howls poor
little Binks, who can bring down any known bird
at any given distance. " You're always getting
invitations because you cant shoot ; and I cannot

8q

PODGERS' POINTER 81

get one because 1 can. It's too bad, by George ! —
it's too bad ! "

One lovely morning in the month of September
I was sauntering along the shady side of Sackville
Street, Dublin, when a gentleman, encased in a
coat of a resounding pattern, all over pockets, and
whose knickerbockers seemed especially constructed
to meet the requirements of the coat, suddenly
burst upon, and clutched me.

" The very man I wanted," he exclaimed. " I've
been hunting you the way O'Mulligan's pup hunted
the fourpenny bit through the bonfire."

" What can I do for you, Mr Podgers ? " I asked.

" I want a day's shooting at O'Eooney's of Bally-
bawn," responded Podgers.

Now, I was not intimate with Mr O'PtOoney.
We had met at the club ; but as he was a smoking
man, and as I, after a prolonged and terrific combat
with a very mild cigar (what must the strong ones
be !), had bidden a long farewell to the Indian
weed, it is scarcely necessary to mention that,
although Mr O'PiOoney and myself were very
frequently beneath the same roof, we very seldom
encountered one another, save in a casual sort of
way.

" I assure you, Mr Podgers, that I "

" Pshaw ! that's all gammon," he burst in antici-

82 PODGERS' POINTER

patingly. " You can do it if you like. Sure we
won't kill all the game. And I have the loveliest
dog that ever stood in front of a bird. I want to
get a chance of showing him off. He'll do you credit."

I was anxious to oblige Podgers. He had stood
by me in a police-court case once upon a time, and
proved an oJihi such as must have met the approval
even of the immortal Mr Weller himself ; so I re-
solved upon soliciting the required permission, and
informed Podgers that I would acquaint him with
the result of my application.

" That's a decent fellow. Come back to my house
with me now, and Pll give you a drop of John
Jameson that will make your hair curl."

Declining to have my hair curled through the
instrumentality of Mr Jameson's ud rivalled whisky,
I wended my way towards the club, and, as luck
would have it, encountered O'Eooney lounging on
the steps enjoying a cigar.

After the conventional greetings, I said, " By the
way, you have some capital partridge shooting at
Ballybawn."

" Oh, pretty good," was the reply, in that self-
satistied, complacent tone in which a crack billiard-
player refers to the spot-stroke, or a rifleman to his
score when competing for the Queen's Prize.

" I'm no shot myself — I never fired a gun in my

PODGERS' POINTER 83

life ; but there's a particular friend of mine who is
most anxious to have one day's shooting at Bally-
bawn. Do you think }'ou could manage to let him
have it ? "

I emphasised the word " one " in the most im-
pressive way.

" I would give one or two days, Mr Brown, with
the greatest pleasure ; but the fact is, I have lent
my dogs to Sir Patrick O'Houlahan."

" Oh, as to tliat, my friend has a splendid dog —
a most remarkable dog. 1 hear it's a treat to see
him in front of a bird."

I stood manfully by Podgers' exact words, adding
some slight embellishments, in order to increase
O'Piooney's interest in the animal.

" In that case, there can be no difficulty, Mr
Brown. I leave for Ballybaw^n on Saturday — will
you kindly name Monday, as I would, in addition
to the pleasure of receiving you and your friend,
like to witness the performance of this remarkable
dog ; and I must be in Galway on Wednesday."

Having settled the preliminaries so satisfactorily,
I wrote the following note to Podgers : —

" Dear Podgers,

" It's all right. Mr O'Eooney has named Mon-
day. Be sure to hrmrj the dog, as his cloys are away.

84 PODGERS' POINTER

Come and breakfast with me at eiglit o'clock, as the
train starts from the King's Bridge Terminus at
nine o'clock. — Yours,

" Benjamin B. Brown.

" P.S. — I praised the dog sky high. O'E. is most
anxious to see him in front of the birds."

I received a gushing note in reply, stating that
he would breakfast with me, and bring the dog,
adding, " It's some time since he was shot over ;
but that makes no difference, as he is the finest docj
in Leinster."

Knowing Podgers to be a very punctual sort of
person, I had ordered breakfast for eight o'clock
sharp, and consequently felt somewhat surprised
when the timepiece chimed the quarter past.

I consulted his letter — day, date, and time were
recapitulated in the most businesslike way. Some
accident might have detained him. Perhaps he
preferred meeting me at the station. I had arrived
at this conclusion, and had just made the first
incision into a round of buttered toast, when
a very loud, jerky, uneven knocking thundered
at the hall door, and the bell was tugged with
a violence that threatened to drag the handle
off.

PODGERS' POINTER 85

I rushed to the window, and perceived Podgers
clinging frantically to the area railings with one
hand, whilst with the other he held a chain,
attached to which, at the utmost attainable dis-
tance, stood, or stretched, in an attitude as if bay-
ing the moon, the fore legs planted out in front,
the hind legs almost clutching the granite step, the
eyes betraying an inflexible determination not to
budge one inch from the spot — a bony animal, of a
dingy white colour, with dark patches over the
eyes, imparting a mournfully dissipated appearance —
the redoubtable dog which was to afford us a treat
" in front of the birds."

" Hollo, Podgers ! " I cried, " you're late ! "
" This cursed animal," gasped Podgers ; " he got
away from me in Merrion Square after a cat. The
cat climbed up the Prince Consort statue. This
brute, somehow or other got up after her. She
was on the head, and he was too high for me to
reach him, when I got the hook of this umbrella
and "

At this moment the hall-door opened, and the
dog being animated with an energetic desire to ex-
plore the interior of the house, suddenly relaxed the
pull upon the chain, which utterly unexpected move-
ment sent Podgers flying into the hall as though he
had been discharged from a catapult. My maid-of-

I G

86 PODGERS' POINTER

all-work, an elderly lady with proclivities in the
direction of " sperrits," happened to stand right in
the centre of the doorway when Podgers commenced
his unpremeditated bound. He cannoned against
her, causing her to reel and stagger against the
wall, and to clutch despairingly at the nearest
available object to save herself from falling. That
object happened to be the curly hair of my acro-
batic friend, to which her five fingers clung as the
suckers of the octopus cling to the crab. By the
aid of this substantial support she had just, righted
herself, when the dog, finding himself comparatively
free, made one desperate plunge into the hall, en-
twining his chain round the limbs of the lady in one
dexterous whirl which levelled her, with a very
heavy thud, on the body of the prostrate Podgers.
Now, whether she was animated with the idea that
she was in bodily danger from both master and
dog, and that it behoved her to defend herself to
the uttermost extent of her power, I cannot possibly
determine ; but she commenced a most vigorous on-
slaught upon both, bestowing a kick and a cuff
alternately with an impartiality that spoke volumes
in favour of her ideas upon the principles of even —
and indeed I may add, heavy — handed justice.

I arrived upon the scene in time to raise the
prostrate form of my friend, and to administer such

PODGERS' POINTER 87

words of consolation and sympathy as, under the
circumstances, were his due. His left eye betrayed
symptoms of incipient inflammation, and liis mouth
gave evidence of the violence with which Miss
Bridget Byrne (the lady in the case) had brought
her somewhat heavy knuckle-dusters into contact
with it.

" Bringin' wild bastes into a gintleman's dacent
house, as if it was a barn, that's manners ! " she
muttered. " Av I can get a clout at that dog, I'll
lave him as bare as a plucked thrush ! "

At this instant a violent crash of crockery-ware
was heard in the regions of the kitchen.

" Holy Yargin ! but the baste is on the dhresser !
Til dhress the villian ! " and seizing upon a very
stout ash stick which stood in the hall, she darted
rapidly in the direction from whence the dire sounds
were proceeding.

" Hold hard, woman ! " cried Podgers. " He's a
very valuable animal. I'll make good any damage.
Use your authority. Brown," he added, appealing to
me. " She's a terrible person this ; she'd stop at
nothing."

Ere I could interpose, a violent skirmishing took
place, in which such exclamations as " Take that,
ye divvle ! Ye'll brake me chaney, will ye ? There's
chaney for ye ! " followed by very audible whacks,

88 PODGERS' POINTER

which, if they had fulfilled their intended mission,
would very speedily have sent the dog to the happy
hunting-grounds of his race. One well-directed
blow, however, made its mark, and was succeeded
by a whoop of triumph from Miss Byrne and a yell
of anguish from her vanquished foe.

" Gelang, ye fireside spaniel 1 Ye live on the
neighbours. How dar' ye come in here ? Ye'U
sup sorrow. I'll give a couple more av I can get
at ye."

Podgers rushed to the rescue, and, after a very
protracted and exciting chase, during which a well-
directed blow, intended by Bridget for the sole use
and benefit of the dog, had alighted on the head of
its master, succeeded in effecting a capture. This,
too, was done under embarrassing circumstances ;
for the dog had sought sanctuary within the sacred
precincts of Miss Byrne's sleeping apartment, beneath
the very couch upon which it was the habit of that
lady to repose her virgin form after the labours of
the day ; and her indignation knew no bounds when
Podgers, utterly unmindful of the surroundings,
hauled forth the dog.

" There's no dacency in man nor baste. They're
all wan, sorra a lie in it ! "

At this crisis Podgers must have developed his
pecuniary resources, for her tone changed with

PODGEES' POINTER 89

marvellous rapidity, and her anger was melted into
a well-feigned contrition for having used her fists
so freely.

'' Poor baste ! shure it's frightened he is. I
wudn't hurt a fly, let alone an illigant tarrier like
that. Thry a bit o' beefsteak in regard o' yer
eye, sir. Ye must have hot it agin somethin'
hard ; it will be as black as a beetle in tin
minits."

Podgers uttered full-flavoured language. I looked
at my watch and found that we could only " do "
the train. Having hailed an outside car, the break-
fastless Podgers seated himself upon one side,
whilst I took the other, and after a very consider-
able expenditure of hard labour and skilful strategy,
in which we were aided by the carman and Miss
Byrne, we succeeded in forcing Albatross (the
pointer) into the well in the middle. I am free
to confess that I sat with my back to that animal
with considerable misgivings. He looked hungry
and vicious, and as though a piece of human flesh
would prove as agreeable to his capacious maw as
any other description of food. It was his habit, too,
during our journey, to elevate his head in the air,
and to give utterance to a series of the most unearthly
bowlings, which could only be partially interrupted,
not by any means stopped, by Podgers' hat being

90 PODGERS' POINTER

pressed closely over the mouth, whilst Podgers
punched him a tergo with no very light hand.

" That's the quarest dog I ever seen," observed
the driver. " He ought to be shupayrior afther
badgers. He has a dhrop in his eye like a widdy's
pig, and it's as black as a Christian's afther a
ruction."

" He's a very fine dog, sir," exclaimed Podgers,
in a reproving tone.

" He looks as if he'd set a herrin'," said the cab-
man jocosely.

" Mind your horse, sir ! " said Podgers angrily.

The driver, who was a jovial-tempered fellow,
finding that his advances towards " the other side "
were rejected, turned towards mine.

" Are you goin' huntin' wid the dog, sir?" he asked.

"We're going to shoot," I replied, in a dignified
way.

" To shoot ! Thin, begorra, yez may as well get
off the car an' fire away at wanst. There's an
illigant haystack foreninst yez, and — but here we
are " — and he jerked up at the entrance to the
station.

The jerk sent Albatross flying off the car, and
his chain being dexterously fastened to the back
rail of the driver's seat, the luckless animal re-
mained suspended whilst his collar was being

POBGERS' POINTER 91

unfastened, in order to prevent the not very re-
mote contingency of strangulation. Finding himself
at liberty, he bounded joyously away, and, resisting
all wiles and blandishments on the part of his
master, continued to bound, gambol, frisk, bark, and
yowl in a most reckless and idiotic way. It w^ould
not be acting fairly towards Podgers were I to
chronicle his language during this festive outbreak.
If the dog was in a frolicsome mood, Podgers was
not, and his feelings got considerably the better of
him when the bell rang to announce the departure
of the train within three minutes of that warning.

Finding that all hopes of securing the animal in
the ordinary way were thin as air, Podgers offered
a reward of half-a-crown to any of the grinning by-
standers who would bring him the dog dead or alive.
This stimulus to exertion sent twenty corduroyed
porters and as many amateurs in full pursuit of
Albatross, who ducked and dived, and twisted and
twined, and eluded detention with the agility of a
greased sow ; and it was only when one very cor-
pulent railway official fell upon him in a squashing
way, and during a masterly struggle to emerge from
beneath the overwhelming weight, that he was sur-
rounded and led in triumph, by as many of his
pursuers as could obtain a handful of his hair, up to
his irate and wrathful master. Each of the captors

92 PODGEES' POINTER

who were in possession of Albatross claimed a half-
crown, refusing to give up the animal unless it was
duly ransomed ; and it was during a fierce and
angry discussion upon this very delicate question
that the last bell rang. With one despairing tug,
Podgers pulled the dog inside the door of the station,
which was then promptly closed, and through the
intervention of a friendly guard our hete noire was
thrust into the carriage with us.

Having kicked the cause of our chagrin beneath
one of the seats, I ventured to remark that in all
probability the dog, instead of being a credit to us,
was very likely to prove the reverse.

" It's only his liveliness, and be hanged to him,"
said Podgers. " He has been shut up for some
time, and is as wild as a deer."

He would not admit a diminished faith in the
dog ; but his tone was irresolute, and he eyed the
animal in a very doubting way.

" His liveliness ought to be considerably toned
down after the rough handling he received from my
servant, and "

" By the way," Podgers went on, " that infernal
woman isn't safe to have in the house ; she'll be
tried for murder some day, and the coroner will be
sitting upon your body. Is my eye very black ? "

" Not very," I replied. It had reached a dis-

PODGERS' POINTER 93

reputable greenish hue, tinged with a tawny
red.

At Bally bricken Station we found a very smart
trap awaiting us, with a servant in buckskin breeches,
and in top-boots polished as brightly as the panels
of the trap.

" You've a dog, sir ? " said the servant.

" Yes, yes," replied Podgers, in a hurried and
confused sort of way.

" In the van, sir ? "

" No ; he is here — under the seat. Come out.
Albatross ! — come out, good fellow 1 " And Podgers
chirruped and whistled in what was meant to be
a seductive and blandishing manner.

Albatross stirred not.

" Hi ! hi ! Here, good fellow ! "

Albatross commenced to growl.

" Dear me, this is very awkward ! " cried Podgers,
poking at the animal in a vigorous and irritated
way.

" Time's up, sir," shouted the guard, essaying to
close the door.

" Hold hard, sir 1 I can't get my dog out ! "
cried Podgers.

" I'll get him out," volunteered the guard ; and,
seizing upon the whip which the smart driver of
the smart trap held in inviting proximity, he pro-

94 PODGERS' POINTER

ceeded to thrust and buffet beneath the seat where
Albatross lay concealed. The dog uttered no sound,
gave no sign.

" There ain't no dog there at all," panted the
guard, whose exertions rendered him nearly apo-
plectic, proceeding to explore the recesses of the
carriage — " there ain't no dog here."

A shout of terror, and the guard flung himself
out of the carriage, the dog hanging on not only to
his coat-tails, but to a portion of the garment which
their drapery concealed. " Take off your dog —
take off your dog. I'll be destroyed. Police !
police ! I'll have the law of you ! " he yelled, in
an extremity of the utmost terror.

Podgers, who was now nearly driven to his wits'
end, caught Albatross by the neck, and, bestowing
a series of well-directed kicks upon the devoted
animal, sent him howling off the platform, but
right under the train.

The cry of " The dog will be killed ! " was raised
by a chorus of voices both from the carriages and
the platform. Happily, however, the now wary
Albatross lay flat upon the ground, and the train
went puffing on its way ; not, however, until the
guard had taken Podgers' name and address, with
a view to future proceedings through the medium
of the law.

PODGERS' POINTER 95

" 1 had no idea that the O'Eooiieys were such
swells," observed my companion as we entered,
through the massive and gilded gates, to the
avenue which sweeps up to Ballybawn House.
" Somehow or other, I wish I hadn't fetched Alba-
tross, or that you hadn't spoken about him ; " and
Podgers threw a gloomy glance in the direction of
the pointer, who lay at our feet in the bottom of
the trap, looking as if he had been on the rampage
for the previous month, or had just emerged from
the asylum for the destitute of his species.

" He won't do us much credit as regards his
appearance," I said ; " but if he is all that you say
as a sporting dog — of which I have my doubts — it
will make amends for anything."

Podgers muttered something unintelligible, and I
saw dismal forebodings written in every line of his
countenance.

" Mr O'Eooney received us at the hall-door.
Beside him crouched two magnificent setters, with
coats as glossy as mirrors, and a bearing as aristo-
cratic as that of Bethgellart.

" AVhere's the dog ? " asked our host, after a
warm greeting. " I hope that you have brought
him."

I must confess that I would have paid a con-
siderable sum of money to have been enabled to

96 PODGERS' POINTER

reply in the negative. I muttered that we had
indeed fetched him, but that owing to his having
met with some accidents en voyage, his personal
appearance was considerably diminished ; but that
we were not to judge books by their covers.

As if to worry, vex, and mortify us, Albatross
declined to stir from the bottom of the trap, from
whence he was subsequently rooted out in a most
undignified and anti-sporting way.

The expression upon Mr O'Eooney's face, when
at length the animal, badger-like, was drawn, was
that of an intense astonishment, combined with a
mirth convulsively compressed. The servants com-
menced to titter, and the smart little gentleman
who tooled us over actually laughed outright.

Albatross was partly covered with mud and offal.
His eyes were watery, and the lids were of a dull
pink, imparting a sort of maudlin idiotcy to their
expression. His right ear stood up defiantly, whilst
his left lay flat upon his jowl, and his tail seemed
to have disappeared altogether, so tightly had he,
under the combined influence of fear and dejection,
secured it between his legs.

" He's not very handsome," observed our host
laughingly, " but I dare say he will take the shine
out of York and Lancaster, by-and-by," pointing to
the two setters as he spoke.

PODaERS' POINTER 97

This hint was enough for Albatross, as no sooner
had the words escaped the lips of O'Eooney than,
with a yowl which sent the rooks whirling from
their nests, he darted from the trap, and, making a
charge at York, sent that aristocratic animal flying
up the avenue in a paroxysm of terror and despair ;
whilst Lancaster, paralysed by the suddenness of
the onslaught, allowed himself to be seized by the
neck, and worried, as a cat worries a mouse, with-
out as much as moving a muscle in self-defence.

This was too much. I had borne with this
hideous animal too long. My patience was utterly
exhausted, and all the bad temper in my composi-
tion began to boil up. I had placed myself under
an obligation to a comparative stranger for the pur-
pose of beholding his magnificent and valuable dogs
scared and worried by a worthless cur. Seizing
upon a garden-rake that lay against the wall, I
dealt at Albatross what ought to have proved a
crushing blow, which he artfully eluded. It only
grazed him, and fell, with almost its full swing and
strength, upon the passive setter, who set up a
series of unearthly shrieks, almost human in their
painful shrillness.

" Chain up that dog at once ! " shouted O'Eooney
in fierce and angry tones, " and look to Lancaster.
I fear that his ribs are broken. This is very

98 PODGEES' POINTER

unfortunate," he added, addressing himself to
me.

" I don't know what's come over the animal ! "
exclaimed Podgers. " I wish to heaven I had never
seen him. I'll part with him to-morrow, if 1 have
to give him to the Zoological Gardens for the bears."

Lucidly, it turned out, upon examination, that
Lancaster was not in any way seriously injured.
This put us into somewhat better spirits, so that by
the time breakfast was concluded we were on good
terms with each other, and even with the wretched
Albatross, in whom we still maintained a sort of
sickly confidence. Later on we started for the
turnips, Mr O'Eooney and Podgers in front — the
latter hauling Albatross along as if he was a sack
of wheat ; whilst I brought ap the rear with a
gamekeeper and York.

" I don't think that animal is used to be out at
all, at all," observed the keeper.

" I'm afraid you are quite right," I replied ; " but
I hear that he is a very good sporting dog."

" Sportin' ! Begorra, he'll give yez sport enough
before the day is half over," said the keeper, with a
gloomy grin.

" There is always a covey to be found in this
field," observed our liost to Podgers, " so we'll give
your dog the first chance."

PODGERS POINTER 99

" I — I — I'd rather you'd let him see what your
doGj will do," blurted Podsjers,

'' Oh, dear no ! " returned Mr O'Eooney. " Let
him go now. You'll take the first shot."

Very reluctantly indeed did Podgers unloose his
pointer, uttering into the dog's ear in a low tone
the most terrilic and appalling threats should he
fail to prove himself all that my fancy had painted
him. With a loud bark of defiance Albatross darted
away, scurrying through the turnips at the rate of
fifteen miles an hour, utterly unmindful of whistle,
call, blandishment, or threat, appearing now in one
direction, now in another, and barking as though it
had been part of its training.

" Stop that dog," cried our host, " he won't leave
us a bird," as covey after covey of partridges rose
beyond range and flew away. Albatross joyously
barking after them.

" You said I was to have the first shot, Mr
O'Rooney," said Podgers, in a tone fidl of
solemnity.

" Certainly, if you can get it ; which I doubt,"
was the curt reply.

Albatross had dashed within twenty yards of
us, and was plunging off in another direction,
when Podgers ran forward, raised his gun.
Bang !

100 PODGERS' POINTER

Albatross was sent to the happy hunting-grounds
of his race.

" He frightened the partridge," observed Podgers,
proceeding to reload ; " let liim frighten the croivs
now."

THE DEAD HEAT

Xo, never had there been such a state of excitement
in any ball-room before, when it became known that
Captain O'Eooney had entrapped Lieutenant Charles
Fortescue, of the Stitfshire Regiment, into a thousand
guineas match P.P., owners up, twelve stone each,
and four miles over the stiff'est country in Galway.

The match had been made at the supper-table,
after the ladies had left ; but nevertheless, the news
had been carried to them, and they were furious.

" Fancy," said one, a tall, handsome brunette,
" that that little wretched bandy-legged O'Eooney
should have got round our handsome friend in such
a mean way. He is jealous and disgusted with
Fortescue's waltzing, and he is the best waltzer in
Ireland."

" ril make him a set of colours to ride in,"
returned the toast of five counties, the beautiful
Alice Gwynne. " I never made any before, but
* there's luck in odd numbers, says Eory O'More,'
and so he is sure to win in them."

" Too bad," exclaimed the gray-haired Colonel
of Fortescue's regiment to some gentlemen standing

I H ^°^

102 THE DEAD HEAT

by him at the supper- table, " to have hounded the
lad into it. O'Eooney is a noted steeplechase rider,
and my boy" (he always called the youngsters of
his regiment his boys), " though a workman across
country, never rode a race in his life ; but I hear
that Captain O'Eooney has the character of looking
up the Griffs."

" Faith, Colonel, ye are about right there," said a
jolly-looking young Irishman ; " he is just the boy
that can do that same ; he is mad now because
Fortescue's English horse cut him down to-day, and
pounded him — a thing that has never been done
before."

" Bedad, you're out there, Mat," put in another ;
" I'd be after thinking it is because the Leaftenent
has been making mighty strong running entirely
with Alice Gwynne all this blessed night. O'Eooney,
by my faith, does not like that, devil a hap'orth ;
he considers himself the favoured one — the consated
spalpeen."

" He tlie favoured one ! " remarked big H ,

of Fortescue's regiment ; " why, he cannot suppose
he would have a ghost of a chance with that pug nose
and whisky-toddy countenance of his against For-
tescue of ours. Why, Old Nick himself could not
boast of an uglier face than Pat Eooney. Fortescue
is about the handsomest and nicest fellow in the

THE DEAD HEAT 103

service, and though only a poor man, yet there are
devilish few girls, at least of any taste, who would
give him the ' cold shoulder.' "

The conversation was put an end to by the re-
doubtable Captain O'Eooney they were descanting
on, and with whom all seemed to be on such bad
terms, walking towards them.

" I will make one endeavour now," said the
Colonel, " to put a stop to this match."

" Captain O'Eooney," said he, as that gentleman
joined them, " I am sorry to hear of this proposed
steeplechase, and for such a sum. Mr Fortescue is
a young man, and has acted very foolishly ; more-
over, though he holds the post of adjutant, he has
little, I know, but his pay, and such a loss as a
thousand pounds would seriously inconvenience him.
Let me recommend. Captain O'Eooney, that Fortescue
give you a hundred pounds to-morrow morning and
draw the bet. What say you, gentlemen all, is the
proposal fair ? "

" Nothing fairer," they exclaimed.

" See now. Colonel," said Captain O'Eooney, " let
us hear what Mr Fortescue says : he is not here ;
he'll be found in the ball-room, I'm after thinking."

" True for ye. Captain dear," said the jolly-
looking young Irishman before alluded to. " Divil
a bit," he continued, with a sly and malicious

104 THE DEAD HEAT

twinkle of his blue eye, " is Fortescue in the ball-
room. Be jabers, he is seated in the card-room
alone by Alice Gwynne, playing with her bouquet
and fan. I'll go and fetch him; but it's a pity to
disturb him. I'd almost take my oath he has
been asking her to be Mrs Fortescue, and by my
soul I don't think she has said no." So saying,
the young man, without giving the other time to
answer, vanished from the room.

" What is it. Colonel ? " said Fortescue, coming in
almost immediately after.

" See now," said O'Piooney, interrupting him ;
" the Colonel says this is a foolish match we have
entered into, and proposes that ye should pay me a
hundred down to-morrow to let ye off. What d'ye
say?

" What do I say ? " replied the young man ;
" why, I'll do anything the Colonel likes. I think
it is a foolish match. I was excited and out of
humour when I made it. I'm better now, and if
you like to take a hundred and draw, why I'll send
you a cheque to-morrow morning for the amount, or
run you for a hundred, which you like."

" See, now," said the Captain, his naturally red
face getting purple with anger and excitement.
" I've heard ye both — the Colonel and yourself ; now
both of ye hear me. If ye were to offer me nine

THE DEAD HEAT 105

hundred and ninety-nine pounds, d — n me if I'd
take it, for by the Rock of Cashel, I'll lick ye and
break your heart and neck over the country ; and
see now, Fortescue," he continued, " steer clear of
the heiress."

"What do you mean, sir," retorted the young man,
firing up. " Steer clear of the heiress ? you forget
yourself ; do you presume to put a lady in the
question ? " and saying this, he turned away.

" All devilish fine," said O'Eooney, sticking his
hands in his pockets and sauntering away from the
supper -table, humming a verse of Harry Lorrequer's
well-known song: —

" The King of Oude
Is mighty proud,

And so were onst the Caysars (Csesars) ;
But ould Giles Eyre
Would make them stare,
Av lie had tliem with the Blazers.

To the devil I'd fling— ould Runjeet Singh
He's only a prince in a small way ;

And knows nothing at all of a six-foot wall,
Oh ! he'd never do for Galway."

" Won't he ? " muttered Fortescue to himself, as
he caught the last words, " perhaps I'll show you
he will." If the Captain had not been so blind with
passion, he might have heard the gallant Adjutant

106 THE DEAD HEAT

singing sotto voce a verse of a song from the same
author, as he strode carelessly from the room : —

" Put Ills arm round her waist,
Gave ten kisses at laste,

' Oh ! ' says he, ' you're my Molly Malone,

' My own,
' Oh ! ' says he, 'you're my Molly Malone ! '"

What did he mean ?

" By the great gun of Athlone, I'm mighty glad
entirely they're both gone from the room," said a
hard-riding Galway squire, as the illustrious Captain
O'Eooney disappeared from sight. " I thought
there was an illigant row brewing. Better as it is.
Where O'Eooney is to get the coin from if he loses,
divil a one of me knows. He's in ' Quare Street '
long ago. Never mind, boys ; let us have the
groceries. ' 0 Punch ! you are my darling,' and the
devil fly away with dull care. Now Colonel," he
continued, " upon my conscience, as O'Eooney won't
listen to reason, you must look after Fortescue's
interests. O'Eooney will endeavour to pick out a
country. I mean he will go building up walls, and
so on. You must have your own way a little, or,
begorra, he'll do as he likes entirely. Now, there is
one thing that will beat him if anything will — you
must insist on that, or I would not give a trauneen
for Fortescue's chance — and that is " (he dropped

THE DEAD HEAT 107

his voice to a whisper) one if not tivo WATER-jumps ;
if anything will stop Mad Moll it is water."

*' It shall be done," said the Colonel ; " I'll see
that the lad is not taken advantage of." And the
old field-officer kept his word, as will be seen in
the sequel.

O'Rooney was greatly disturbed when he knew
there were to be one or more water-jumps. He
fought hard and gallantly against it ; but the Colonel
was obdurate. " By Gad, sir," said he, " you do
not want it entirely your own way, do you ? I
have not interfered with the country in any way.
I have said nothing as to the six-foot wall you have
built up, and others equally dangerous, and now you
cavil at a paltry ditch."

" Ditch do ye call it, Colonel ? fifteen feet of
water, hurdled and staked, a ditch, and another of
eleven. By my troth, no such like ditches are found
between this and Ballinasloe. But never mind.
Glory be to Moses, I'll get over them. And then,
h — 11 to my soul, if the English horse will ever
come near Mad Moll's girths again."

" We think nothing of nineteen feet, sir," said
the Colonel. " In England, fifteen feet is nothing ;
but my youngster shall have a chance."

Great was the excitement throughout the country
— indeed, in all parts of Ireland. Such a match

108 THE DEAD HEAT

had not been known for years — " a thousand
pounds ! " What could the English soldier have been
thinking of ! The nags went on well in their train-
ing, closely guarded by their respective admirers.
The English horse took to wall-jumping beautifully ;
but it was doubted whether, even with his great turn
of speed, he had the foot of the Irish mare — a
clipper. Then again, though Fortescue was a cool
and daring horseman, he had not the experience
of the Captain, who had ridden many a hard-con-
tested race before, across country and over the flat.

The stakes had been made good and deposited
according to agreement with the Colonel. The
Captain had found friends to share in the bet, for
though he was generally disliked, yet they had con-
fidence in his horse and his horsemanship. For-
tescue, too, had friends, nor had his commanding
officer been idle. Men from his own regiment had
come forward, so all he stood to lose was two hun-
dred and fifty ; this and other matters made him
sanguine and light-hearted. In addition to all, he
had received a beautiful cap and jacket from Miss
Gwynne.

The sporting papers, English and Irish, teemed
with the forthcoming match. " Lieut. Charles
Fortescue's bay horse Screwdriver, aged, against
Capt. O'Eooney's chestnut mare Mad Moll, six

THE DEAD HEAT 109

years old, for OXE thousand guineas a side," appeared
in the County Chronicle.

The excitement was intense. Such a stiff bit of
country had not been seen or ridden over for years.
The betting would have ])een decidedly in favour of
the Captain, but his mare's well-known dislike to
water prevented anything like odds being laid —
so they were both about equal favourites.

" By George, old fellow ! " said one of Fortescue's
chums to him one morning, some six days pre-
vious to the race, " I really think your chance is
becoming more rosy every hour. The more
O'Eooney's mare sees the water the less she
likes it. A sergeant in my company, a Gal-
way man, has a country cousin in the barracks who
knows all about it. Just go to Sergeant Blake,"
he said, turning to a bugler passing by, " and tell
him to come here, and bring his cousin with him.
Mr Fortescue wishes to see him."

The man soon appeared. " Salute your supareor,"
said the Sergeant, as he squared his heels. " Touch
your caubeen."

" Arrah, now, Patrick, wasn't I after doing it ? "

'' Well, do it at oust, ye murdering ruflQan, and
tell all ye know."

" Yes, sir, yer honour," commenced the man,
" Faix, the Captain 'av' been trying the mare day

110 THE DEAD HEAT

after day at the water. Onst she jumped finely.
The Captain made a brook close by our cabin, and
is often wid her there. Sometimes she jumps and
sometimes she won't ; and when she won't, mille
murther I maybe don't he larrup her ! Long life to
your honour ! but I don't think the mare likes
water, at all, at all. And by my troth, there's
many a man thinks the same. The devil's luck to
him ! he's been all over the fresh-planted praties,
and cut them to smithereens, bad cess to him !
But av course, Leiftenent, ye won't tell on a poor
boy, more by token as he is after doing yer honour a
little sarvice. I wouldn't give a handful of prayers
for my life if he found me out ; for sorra a one
knows the Captain better than myself, death to his
sowl ! Tear-an-ages ! he's a terrible bad man
entirely, is the Captain. The top of» the morning,
and long life to your honour ! " said the gossoon, as
the Sergeant led him away, pocketing half a crown.

" There, Fortescue, what do you think of that ? "
said his friend, as they sauntered away to the ante-
room for a whiskey and soda. " It's evident Mad
Moll is no water jumper. By Jupiter ! I think you
will pull through. Quite fair my giving the lad
half-a-crown. O'Eooney's friends have been doing
the same — fair play is a jewel ! "

Somehow the public at last began to lean towards

THE DEAD HEAT 111

the English horse. He did his work quietly and
openly, without any attempt at concealment.

But what is this excitement in the barrack yard ?
Officers are rushing to the mess-room. Two gentle-
men have been driven up there in a car. Lord
Plunger and his friend Bradon have arrived. They
are old friends of the Stiffshire battalion.

" By George ! Plunger and Bradon, I'm delighted
to see you," said the warm-hearted Colonel, hasten-
ing in, while endeavouring to make his sword-belt
meet about his somewhat bulky waist. " I did not
tell the boys I had written for you both. Lunch
ready in ten minutes — glass of sherry first to wet
your mouths. Now, Fortescue will have a little
good advice. You will ride the last gallop to-
morrow morning, Bradon, and give us your opinion.
Dammee, I'm so glad to see you both in the wild
west. Here, some one tell the captain of the day I
won't have another roll-call. Obliged to do this
kind of thing here, Bradon — never know what's
going to happen from one minute to another.
Shooting landlords like the devil. Potted Lambert
last week ; five shots in him, and the only one that
did no harm was the one that took him in the fore-
head. Rest his sowl, as the Irishmen say, a near
escape for him. Lucky dog ! Here is the sherry ! "
In this way did the popular Colonel rattle on.

112 THE DEAD HEAT

The gallop is over, and Screwdriver has been
tried at even weights against a good one. George
Bradon had thought it better that Fortescue should
ride his own horse in the trial, which he did. " By
Jove, you've got a clipper, Fortescue ! " said the
former, as they pulled up ; " you don't know how
good. I deceived you all when I told you I had
borrowed this nag to try you. Keep your mouth
shut, hermetically sealed, old fellow, and I'll tell you
something you will care to know. It is no com-
moner you have galloped against to-day. Mind, on
your life, not a word to your dearest friend. It's my
own horse, Guardsman, you have had a spin with
— the winner of the Cheltenham Grand Annual ! "

The young man thus addressed sat like one in
a dream, at this revelation.

" It's all old Mason's doing, Fortescue," said he.
" He advised me to bring him over. I'm off now.
Look at that knot of people coming over the hill ;
there are some who crossed tlie Channel yesterday
with me who would know my old pet, and I would
not have it blown upon for a trifle — the horse has
been in Ireland for a week on the quiet. I'm now
off, across country to Athenry, where Mason is, and
has a stable for him. The horse will leave by the
late train to-night for England with a lad ; so no one
will be a bit the wiser. My old stud-groom will

THE DEAD HEAT 113

come to your diggings this evening with me to give
you a help. So mt revoir till mess-time, when you
will see yours truly ; " and putting his horse at a
five-foot wall, he sent him over, hurling the loose
stones behind him in a cloud, and was quickly out
of sight.

" So your friend has gone," said the gallant
Colonel, as Fortescue walked his horse up to a host
of his brother-officers and friends assembled in a
knot on the hill, amongst which several strangers
were distinguishable.

" Yes," replied Fortescue, carelessly, " he will be
with us at mess. Here, take the horse home.
Forester " — to his man — " see no one comes near
him."

" That's a horse to back," said a sly-looking little
man in a large drab overcoat ; and coming up to
Fortescue he whispered quietly to him : " I'm on
your nag for a plumper. I keep my own counsel,
and shall not split. 1 never come except wdth a
rush at the last minute. My glasses are good.
You've had a spin with one of the best cross-country
horses in England. Clever and fast as that nag is,
he can't give you seven pounds. You ran him to a
length or two. I know George Bradon and Guards-
man well. I've won a pot full of money on them
before. There, don't look scared ; you are a young-

114 THE DEAD HEAT

ster. Sit well down on Screwdriver, hold him
together, don't give a lead over the water, and you
will land him a winner. I know more than you
think ; but for my own sake I'm mum ! "

" News for you -o' 2 ! " said the Colonel of
Fortescue's regiment, bursting into the mess-room,
where some nine or ten officers were at breakfast,
amongst whom were Lord Plunger and Bradon.
" Here, Fortescue," continued the excited old gentle-
man, " this letter " — holding out one — " concerns
you more immediately. Eead it out."

The young man thus addressed took the letter
and read the following : —

" Dear Colonel,

" As you all know, this is the morning of the
race. Something has happened. For God's sake
ride over and see me at once. —

" Yours faithfully,

" P. O'EOONEY.

" Clougli-bally-More Castle, Friday morning."

" There, gentlemen, what do you think of that ? "
cried the Colonel, as Fortescue slowly folded up the
letter and returned it to him. " Something in that
— no race for a guinea."

" Pace or no race," said Lord Plunger, " the

THE DEAD HEAT 115

money is lodged with you. It is a p.p. bet, and
must be paid."

" ]\Iare gone amiss," put in Bradon. " I knew
he was giving her too muc]- of it. This is a hard,
stony country ; horses wol <■ stand much continued
work. Poor brutes ! they are galloped shin sore —
all the life and energy taken out of them — sweated
to death, and made as thin as whipping-posts, and
they are said to be in condition. Serves him
right."

" Hold, Bradon, my boy," interrupted Lord
Plunger, " you do not know that such is the case.
The mare was all right last night, that I am certain
of. She is about six miles from here, at a Mr
Blake's. I am inclined to think O'Eooney has got
into trouble."

" At any rate we shall soon know," returned the
Colonel ; "for here is my horse coming round. I
shall be back in an hour or a little more. I'll look
after your interests, Fortescue," he continued. " It
is only half-past ten now. The race is not till
three. Keep cool, and don't take too many brandy-
and-sodas, till you see me again." And so saying,
he took his departure.

What was up ? Had the mare broken down ?
Was O'Eooney arrested ? It must be one or the
other. It could not be about the stakes, for these

116 THE DEAD HEAT

were lodged to the Colonel's credit in the Bank of
Ireland. "What could it be then ?

" I cannot help thinking, Fortescue," said Lord
Plunger, " that somehow or other you will have to
don the new colours, doeskins, and tops, and give us
a sight of your way of crossing the Gal way country."
As he was speaking, one of the mess waiters came
in and said a few words to Fortescue, which made
that gentleman immediately leave the room. On
reaching his quarters he found seated there a sly-
looking little man in a large drab overcoat.

" I beg your pardon," said the stranger to the
officer as he entered. " You know me, I think ? "

Fortescue slightly inclined his head.

" The object of my coming," continued the sly-
looking little man, " is to tell you that there is a
writ out against Captain O'Eooney for four hun-
dred pounds. He will not show up to-day. He is
a Sunday man : now the race is ours — yours 1
ought to say — you will only have to go over the
course. Good-morning."

But he was not allowed to depart in that way.
He was soon in the mess-room, and all were put in
possession of the facts.

In the meantime the good Colonel rode on at a
rapid pace, wondering at the contents of the note,
and conjuring up all sorts of things. Five-and-

THE DEAD HEAT 117

twenty minutes brought him to the gate, or what

should have been the gate, of Clough-bally-More

Castle, but it was gone. Cantering up the neglected

wilderness-like avenue, he was soon in front of a

ruinous-looking pile. This was Clough-bally-More

Castle — a place best described by a quotation

from Hood's beautiful poem of " The Haunted

House " —

" (Jiihinged the iron gates half open hung,

Jarr'd by the gusty gales of many winters,
That from its crumbled pedestal had flung
One marble globe in splinters.

^ -x- -x- -x- *

" With sliatter'd panes the grassy court was starr'd ;
The time-worn coping-stone had tumbled after ;
And through the ragged roof the sky shone, barr'd
AVith naked beam and rafter."

Getting off his horse and walking up the broken,
moss-covered steps, the Colonel rang the bell, which
gave forth a melancholy sound that scared a colony
of jackdaws who had established themselves un-
molested for many a year in the chimneys and
uninhabited rooms.

On the second summons a shock head was
cautiously poked out of an upper window. " Sure
now, it's no use at all, at all, av yer ringing away
like that : the master's gone abroad these six
months ; he told me to say so last night. Divil a
I I

118 THE DEAD HEAT

writ can you serve him wid, my honey ; av ye don't
be off the master will be after shooting ye for a
thafe from the hall windy."

" I'm no writ server," returned the Colonel. " I
come in consequence of a note I received from Cap-
tain O'Kooney this morning."

" Troth, then, ye are the English soldier colonel.
His honour the master will be wid ye at onst," and
the head disappeared.

Presently that of the Captain protruded.

" See now, Colonel," said he, " ould Mat thought
you were a Bum. I'm sorry to say I'm a Sunday
man now. The thundering thieves they've been
about the place all the morning to serve me. I
wish they may get it. Nabocklish ! catch a weasel
asleep. I'll let you in."

In a minute or so the front door was slowly and
cautiously unchained, and the Colonel found himself
in the hall of Clough-bally-More Castle. It was a
perfect ruin, and, if possible, more ghastly and
miserable-looking on the inside than the outside.
The Captain's room was, however, pretty cosy, and
in decent repair. A bright turf fire burnt on the
hearth ; a couple of guns adorned the walls ; rods,
fishing-tackle, and various other sporting parapher-
nalia were scattered about the room in indescrib-
able confusion.

THE DEAD HEAT 119

" Be seated, Colonel," said the steeple-chase rider ;
" I raay as well come to the point at once. D — ,
of Galway, has a writ out against my person for
four hundred pounds. They tried to serve it on
me last night, and again this morning, the divil fly
away with them ! May the flames of "

" What is to be done, Capt. O'Eooney ? " inter-
rupted the Colonel. " You know it is a p.p. bet,
and out of my power to do anything. Mr Fortescue
has only two hundred and fifty on it. The rest is
made up by gentlemen who will insist on the terms
of the bet being adhered to. You ridiculed our
offer of scratching the bet for a hundred : far better
for yourself had you done so. I should not like
any advantage taken of you, and you ought to
have a run for your money. What is it you
propose ? "

" See, now, Colonel ; the only way is, that if you
do not hold me to the day, we can run it oft' on
Sunday."

" Sir I Captain O'Eooney 1 " hotly interrupted
the Colonel ; " you must be mad ! Eide a steeple-
chase on a Sunday ! Do you suppose, sir, any of
my officers would be guilty of such a thing, or that
I would allow it ? "

" See, now, Colonel," interposed the Captain,
" then there is no other way but Mr Fortescue let-

120 . THE DEAD HEAT

ting me off altogether. I've five hundred on it on
my own account. I'll give a hundred and scratch
it."

" Quite impossible," said the Colonel ; " you know
I can't do it. I am really very sorry for you ? but
stay, there is yet one way, and if I can manage it

the race may yet come off. D , who has the

writ out against you, does the wine for the mess.
Now, will you agree to this — that if you win, I pay
him the four hundred and the balance to yourself ?
If you do not win you shall be exactly in the same
position you are now, namely, locked up in your
own house."

" Tare an' ages, a capital idea ! Colonel, I agree."
And it was forthwith signed and sealed between
them.

" I'll send out to you in an hour," said the
Colonel, as he took his departure. " I will write
and tell you how it is to be, race or no race.
Depend on me ; I'll do all I can."

The Colonel succeeded, and the terms he men-
tioned w^ere acceded to by D , who thought it

was his only chance of ever getting a farthing.

" Hang it, gentlemen," said the light-hearted old
officer, " we could have got the money without a
race ; but I should not have liked it said of the
regiment that we took any advantage. Now, win

THE DEAD HEAT 121

or lose, everyone must say that we have behaved
pluckily in this matter."

Such a crowd as there was on the road all the
way to the hill of Thonabuckey, where a good view
could be had of the race ! Cars, donkey-carts, wiry-
looking horses with wiry and sporting squireens on
them crowded the road — all on their way to see the
thousand-guinea steeple-chase between the English
soldier gentleman and the famous Captain O'Eooney.

Such excitement, such running and jostling of
the dirty unwashed to get along ! There was the
old blind fiddler, Mat Doolan, in a donkey-cart, and
perched on the top of a porter-barrel, scraping away,
and occasionally giving a song.

" Sure it's himself that can bring the music out
of the instrument. He is the best fiddler in the
west," sang out one. Then a chorus of voices would
break in asking for various tunes and songs.
" Arrah, now, give us ' Croppies lie down.' "
" ' Wreath the bowl,' " cried another. " Hell to the
bowl, let's 'ave ' Tater, Jack Walsh,' or ' Vinegar
Hill,' " demanded a sturdy ruffian. " No, no ; ' The
breeze that blows the barley,' ' St Patrick's day in
the morning,' or ' Garry-owen' for me." " Begorra,
no ; ' Larry before he was stretched,' is my favour-
ite," said a ragged urchin.

" Hurrah ! here comes the Captain," bawled

122 THE DEAD HEAT

another ; and the dirty unwashed yelled as he
passed in a tax-cart driven by a friend.

" Which is the Captain ? " demanded a soldier.

" Death ! don't you know him ? Musha, why
that one forenent ye in the white caubeen and frieze
coat. Troth, he's a broth of a boy ! devil a one in
Ireland can bate him on Mad Moll across country.
Sure he's an illigant rider."

" Hould yer noise, here comes Squire Gwynne
and the ladies in the coach, and the English soldier
gentleman wid 'em. Agra ! but he's a mighty fine
young man is that same. Bedad, it's Miss Alice
that's looking swate on him entirely."

It was true : there was Charles Fortescue of the
Stiffshire Eegiment going to the scene of action
in the Squire's waggonette, and sitting beside his
affianced bride, the beautiful Alice Gwynne with
eight thousand a year the instant she married.

" Hurroo ! " shouted the people as the carriage
dashed past. " Three cheers for the Master of
Gwynne ! And another for the lady ! " They were
in the humour to shout at everything and every-
body.

The course is reached at last. It is a circular
one, and everything has to be jumped twice ; hardly
anything is to be seen but dark frowning walls.
Many cars and carriages have got down by the

THE DEAD HEAT 123

water -jump. There is no end of youth and beauty.
All the county dite are there as lookers-on. A place
has been kept for Mr C-wynne, and also one for the
large waggonette of the officers. Eager spectators
are scattered all over the course, but the big wall
and the two water-jumps are the centre of attraction.
The wall is a fearful one, six feet high, built up of
large loose stones. The water-jump is also a pretty
good one. A little mountain stream has been
dammed up. It is fifteen feet wide, four feet deep,
and hurdled and staked on the taking off side.

" By Jingo, it is a twister ! " said Mr Gwynne, a
hunting man, as he looked at it. " I say. Ally," to
his daughter, " you would not like to ride over that,
would you ? "

" ISTo, indeed, papa," said the poor girl, with her
beautiful eyes full of tears — she was terribly
asfitated. " I never shall be able to look at Charles
as he jumps it : it's fearful to look at, and it has to
be done twice too ! "

" Never mind, Alice, dear," said Fortescue, " the
old horse will carry me over like a bird. The only
difficulty in the whole thing is the big wall ; that is
a rattler ! but in your colours, of course, I shall
get over all right. Let me do that wall and I am
pretty safe, for I know Screwdriver has the foot of
Mad Moll ; and these colours, too, they must not

124 THE DEAD HEAT

play second fiddle. Cheer up ! " and he whispered
something that made the fair girl smile through her
tears.

" Now, Fortescue," said George Bradon, taking
his friend aside, " let me give you a little advice :
this is your maiden effort : whatever you do be cool ;
don't flurry or worry yourself ; you have a knowing
fellow to ride against, who is well up to these
things. Now the wall is the principal thing, and
my opinion is, he will try and baulk your horse
there ; therefore, my boy, don't let him give you a
lead over it, hut lead him. That you have the speed
of the mare there is not a doubt. Eemember, too,
you must not go at the wall too fast : keep him well
together, with his hind legs well under him, and
pop him over. Now, with regard to the brook, on
no account give him a lead there ; if necessary, walk
your horse to it rather than go first. Keep your
head, old fellow, and where you dare, make the pace
a cracker, if you can do it without pumping your
horse ; the mare is overtrained, and will not last
if she is bustled. I don't know that I can say any
more : now, go and sit by your lady fair till it is
time to weigh."

The officers had sent their two cricket tents down,
the scoring one for the scales, and the other for
luncheon. The latter one was filled with gentle-

THE DEAD HEAT 125

men discussing the merits of the different
horses.

" Here comes your nag, Fortescue," said a young
sub, running up to the carriage.

" Oh, what a beauty he is ! " said Miss Gwynne.
" Who is the little fat man leading him ? "

" That/' said Bradon, who had joined them, " is my
old stud-groom, one of the best men in Europe ; he
says Screwdriver's trained to the hour. Here, Mason,
turn the horse round and show him to the lady."

The old man touched his hat as he did so.

" He's a good 'un, miss," he said, " and nothing
but a good 'un ; and if Mr Fortescue rides him
patiently, I think that no Mad Moll will have a
chance with him." And touching his hat again
he turned and walked the horse away.

The regimental champion was then immediately
surrounded by the men of the Stiffshire Eegi-
ment.

The weighing is over, and Screwdriver mounted.
Fortescue's colours are crimson, with gold braiding.
Capt. O'Rooney's are all green. Both gentlemen
look thorough jocks, and sit their horses easily and
well ; but there is a look of the older hand about
the Captain.

" Who will lay me two to one against Screw-
driver ? " cried out a sly-looking little man in a

126 THE DEAD HEAT

large drab overcoat. " I'll do it to any amount
up to a thousand."

" I'll take you even money for a hundred," said a
flashily-dressed man on a bay horse.

" I want odds, sir," said the little man ; '' but as
I see there is no betting to be done here, make it
two hundred and I'll take you."

" Done," said the other. And the bets were
booked.

All is now excitement, for the horses are walk-
ing away to the starting-post. The judge had
locked himself up in the little box allotted to him,
which has been lent by the race committee, but
little did he think he would see such a close finish.

" They're off ! " is the cry, as the two horses are
seen canterincf across a field.

" Fortescue's leading," said Lord Plunger, with
his field-glasses to his eyes.

" Oh, papa, hold me up so that I may see," said
the beautiful and anxious Miss Gwynne."

The eyes of scores were on her as she stood up,
for all the gentry were well aware in what relation
she stood to Fortescue.

" Well lepped ! " roared the multitude, as the
horses topped a wall.

" Capital jumpers both," said the sly-looking little
man ; " the horse for my money. Will nobody

THE DEAD HEAT 127

bet ? " he roared out. But all were too eao^er to
attend to him.

Fortescue is in front, and o-oinsj at a o-ood rate
across some grass. The first brook is now
approached, and the Captain in his turn, leads at a
strong pace. All are anxiously looking to see how
Mad Moll will like it, for she is twisting her head
from side to side, Fortescue has taken a pull at
Screwdriver, who is some six lengths behind.

" Hang me if she means jumping ! " said Bradon,
as he saw the mare's spiral movements.

But he was wrong : a resolute man and a good
one was on her back. She jumped the brook, but
in bad style, her hind legs dropped in, and as she
just righted herself, Fortescue's crimson jacket
flashed in the air and cleared it splendidly, amidst
the shouts of hundreds.

" Splendidly jumped ! " said Lord Plunger. For-
tescue is a fine horseman, Bradon, and is riding
the horse patiently and well."

" He is," was the quiet reply.

All eyes are now directed to the wall, which the
horses are rapidly approaching. Fortescue is seen
to lead at it, and the old horse clears it at a bound,
as did the mare.

" It's all up," said Bradon, as he closes his glasses ;
" Fortescue will win in a canter."

128 THE DEAD HEAT

" The Captain's down ! " screamed a host of voices,
as he and the mare came to grief at the second
water-jump.

" May he stick there for the next ten minutes ! "
muttered the sly little man, a wish in which not a
few joined — a certain fair lady especially.

But he is up and at work again, none the worse.
The horses were going at a great pace, and the
jumps were taken with beautiful precision by both.
Bradon began to look anxious, the sly little man
fidgety, and Lord Plunger wore a thoughtful look.

The anxious girl's face was flushed to scarlet with
excitement and emotion, and she trembled fearfully.

" It will be a close thing," said the sly-looking
little man ; " the mare is better than I thought."

There were only a few things to be jumped now
of any consequence — the two brooks and the big
wall. The horses there turned, ran through an
opening made in the wall, and finished on the flat
in front of the carriages. The brook is now
approached for the second time : the mare comes at
it first, jumps it, and topples down on her nose on
the opposite side ; the Captain is pitched forward
on her ears, but recovers himself like lightning, and
is away again, leading Fortescue at a terrific pace.

But what is the little sly man doing ? As the
mare recovers herself he is seen to dart across the

THE DEAD HEAT 129

course and pick up something flat, and put it into
his pocket. " By G — d ! turn out as it will we are
saved," he muttered. " I'll lay any money against
the mare," he screamed out. But no one took him.

The wall is now approached again ; the Captain
leads ; but as the mare is about to rise he turns her
sharply round and gallops in a different direction.
Screwdriver refuses it too.

" Damnation ! I thought it," said Bradon ; " there's
a blackguard's trick ! "

" Oh ! poor Charles," ejaculated the beautiful
Alice ; " my poor colours ! "

" The Captain's cleared it ! " shouted out the
multitude, as the mare was seen to take the wall
splendidly.

" Where's your soldier now ? " shouted out a
chorus of voices.

" Shure it's myself," said the captain, " could
never be licked."

" Most unfortunate 1 " said the old Colonel, " a
dirty trick ; and after my kindness to him,
too ! "

" The soldier is going at it again ! " cried the
people ; and the horse is seen' to rise gallantly at it,
but both horse and rider came down on the other
side.

" Och, wirra wirra, vo vo ! Mother of Moses,

130 THE DEAD HEAT

he's kilt entirely ! " bawled out a countryman ; " poor
young fellow ! "

" Miss Gwynne's fainted," said a young sub, run-
nincf into the tent for water.

o

" By G — d ! he's up and at it again," screamed
out the sly little man : " the mare's baked too ;
look at her tail."

All faces were flushed and eager. The horse was
coming along at a tremendous pace. The captain
was at work : his legs could be seen sending the
spurs deeply into her ; and he took an anxious look
over his shoulder every now and then.

" The mare's beaten ! " resounded on all sides, as
she was seen to swerve in her stride.

" Oh that the finish were only a hundred yards
farther ! " said Lord Plunger.

The winning-post is approached. The old horse
has not been touched by Fortescue, whose face is
seen, even at that distance, to be deluged with blood.
He holds Screwdriver well in hand ; he sees the
mare is flagging.

" Green wins ! " " Eed wins ! " shouts the crowed.

It is an anxious moment. Both horses are seen
locked closely together. But the strain on Screw-
driver's jaw is relaxed, and Fortescue is seen to
shake him up ; the whip hand is at work, and they
pass the post abreast. The Colonel dashes

THE DEAD HEAT 131

off, as does the sly little man, and a host of
others.

" What is it ? " said the Colonel, as he galloped up.

" A DEAD HEAT," replied the judge.

The sly little man smiles grimly as he hears
these words.

" Is Charles hurt, papa ? " said the beautiful
occupant of the Master of Gwynne's carriage, open-
ing her eyes languidly, as she rose from her faint.

" No, dearest ; cut a little, I believe. It is a
dead heat."

Both horses were now returning to scale.

" Dead heat ? " said the Captain. " Well, we
must run it off in an hour. " I won't give in."

" Hurt, sir ? " inquired old Mason, as he took hold
of the old horse's bridle and led him back.

"A bit of a cut on the forehead," returned Eortes-
cue, " that is all. Captain O'Eooney pulled his mare
round at the wall — little cad ! "

" A scoundrel's trick," said the Colonel.

Fortescue goes to weigh in first.

*' All right, sir," said the man in charge of the
scales.

The Captain now approaches, saddle and saddle-
cloths in hand, and seats himself.

"Eleven stone eleven," said he of the scales, look-
ing at them intently. " Three pounds short, Captain."

132 THE DEAD HEAT

" What ? " yelled out O'Eooney. " Look again,
man, look again ! "

" Eleven stone eleven," replied the clerk.

" Give me my bridle ! " roared the Captain.
" What the h — 11 is the matter ? "

" Ay, give him his bridle ! " said the sly-looking
little man ; ''he can claim a pound for it ; but that
won't make him right. Look at your saddle-cloth,
sir. You will see it has burst and a three-pounds
lead gone. You did it at the big water-jump the
second time, and I picked it up. Here it is."

Cheer after cheer rent the air as the fact was
announced. The soldiers, of course, went almost
frantic.

"Here, come away," said Lord Plunger and
Bradon, seizing Charley's arm, " Get away as quickly
as you can. There will be a row. Your horse has
already gone, with seventy or eighty of our men
with him. You rode the race splendidly, old
fellow ! "

" That he did," said the sly -looking little man.

The Captain had lost the race. He was short
by two pounds, allowing him one for his bridle.
The scene of confusion that followed was indescrib-
able.

Fortescue was taken to the carriage and quickly
driven away.

THE DEAD HEAT 133

" Ah, Alice ! " said he, " I told you I should carry
your colours to the fore."

" Thank God you did so ! This is your first and
last race, promise me."

The Captain went back to Clough-bally-More
Castle ; but in a day or two he was non est, and his
creditors were done.

The regiment had a jovial night of it. Fortescue's
health was drunk in bumper after bumper ; but he
was not there to acknowledge the compliment ; some
one else had him in charge.

A short time after the Stiffshire were quartered
in Manchester, and the Colonel one day encountered
no less a person than Captain O'Eooney.

" See now. Colonel," said the latter, " you must
bear me no ill-will. I did a shabby trick, I'll
allow, at the wall, but I was a ruined man. I'm
all right now. I've married a rich cotton-spinner's
widow with some three thousand a year ; but it's all
settled on her."

Fortescue and Miss Gwynne are long ago
married ; and at the different race meetings that
they attended they often saw the celebrated Captain
O'Eooney performing ; but in all the numerous races
he was engaged in, he never rode — at any rate in a
steeple-chase — another dead heat.

ONLY THE MAEE

When one opens a suspicious-looking envelope and
finds something about " Mr Shopley's respectful com-
pliments " on the inside of the flap, the chances are
that Mr Shopley is hungering for what we have
Ovid's authority for terming hTitamenta malorum.
Not wishing to have my appetite for breakfast spoiled,
I did not pursue my researches into a communica-
tion of this sort which was amongst my letters on a
certain morning in November ; but turned over the
pile until the familiar caligraphy of Bertie Peyton
caught my eye : for Bertie was Nellie's brother, and
Nellie Peyton, it had been decided, would shortly
cease to be Nellie Peyton ; a transformation for
which I was the person chiefly responsible. Bertie's
communication was therefore seized with avidity.
It ran as follows : —

" The Lodge, Holmesdale.

" My dear Charlie,

" I sincerely hope that you have no important
engagements just at present, as I want you down
here most particularly.

134

ONLY THE MARE 135

" You know that there was a small race-meeting
at Bibury the other day. I rode over on Little
Lady, and found a lot of the 14th Dragoons there ;
that conceited young person Blankney amongst the
number. Now, although Blankley has a very con-
siderable personal knowledge of the habits and
manners of the ass, he doesn't know much about
the horse ; and for tliat reason he saw fit to read us a
lecture on breeding and training, pointing his moral
and adorning his tale with a reference to my mare
— whose pedigree, you know, is above suspicion.
After, however, he had kindly informed us what a
thoroughbred horse ought to be, he looked at Little
Lady and said, ' Now I shouldn't think that thing
was thoroughbred ! ' It ended by my matching her
against that great raw-boned chestnut of his : three
and a half miles over the steeplechase course, to be
run at the Holmesdale Meeting, on the 5 th December.

" As you may guess, I didn't want to win or lose
a lot of money, and when he asked what the match
should be for, I suggested '£20 a-side.' 'Hardly
worth while making a fuss for £20 ! ' he said, rather
sneeringly. ' £120, if you like ! ' I answered, rather
angrily, hardly meaning what I said ; but he pounced
on the offer. Of course I couldn't retract, and so
very stupidly, I plunged deeper into the mire, and
made several bets with the fellows who were round

136 ONLY THE MARE

US. They laid me 3 to 1 against the mare, but I
stand to lose nearly £500.

" You see now what I w^ant. I ride quite 1 2
stone, as you know ; the mare is to carry 1 1 stone,
and you can just manage that nicely. I know you'll
come if you can, and if you telegraph I'll meet you.

" Your's ever,

Bertie Peyton.

"P.S. — Nellie sends love, and hopes to see you soon.
No one is here, but the aunt is coming shortly."

I was naturally anxious to oblige him, and luckily
had nothing to keep me in town ; so that afternoon
saw me rapidly speeding southwards, and the evening,
comfortably domiciled at The Lodge.

Bertie, who resided there with his sister, was not
a rich man. £500 was a good deal more than he
could afford to lose, and poor little Nellie was in a
great flutter of anxiety and excitement in conse-
quence of her brother's rashness. As for the mare,
she could gallop and jump ; and though we had no
means of ascertaining the abilities of Blankney's
chestnut, we had sufficient faith in our Little Lady
to enable us to ''come up to the scratch smiling;"
and great hopes that we should be enabled to laugh
at the result in strict accordance with the permission
given in the old adage, *' Let those laugh who win."

ONLY THE MARE 137

It was not very pleasant to rise at an abnormal
hour every morning, and arrayed in great-coats and
comforters sufficient for six people, to rush rapidly
about the country ; but it was necessary. I was a
little too heavy, and we could not afford to throw
away any weight, nor did I wish to have my saddle
reduced to the size of a cheese-plate, as would have
been my fate had I been unable to reduce myself.
Breakfast, presided over by ISTellie, compensated for
all matutinal discomforts ; and then she came
round to the stables to give the mare an
encouraging pat and a few words of advice and
endearment which I verily believe the gallant little
mare understood, for it rubbed its nose against her
shoulder as though it would say, " Just you leave it
in my hands — or, rather, to my feet — and I'll make
it all right ! " Then we started for our gallop,
Bertie riding a steady old iron-grey hunter.

The fourth of December arrived, and the mare's
condition was splendid. " As fit as a fiddle," was
the verdict of Smithers, a veterinary surgeon who
had done a good deal of training in his time, and
who superintended our champion's preparation ; and
though we were ignorant of the precise degree of
fitness to which fiddles usually attain, he seemed
pleased, and so, consequently, were we. Unfortun-
ately on this morning Bertie's old hunter proved

138 ONLY THE MAKE

to be very lame, so I was forced to take my last
gallop by myself ; and with visions of success on
the morrow, I passed rapidly through the keen air
over the now familiar way ; for the course was
within a couple of miles of the house, and so we
had the great advantage of being able to accustom
the mare to the very journey she would have to take.

Bertie was in a field at the back of the stables
when I neared home again. " Come on !" he shouted,
pointing to a nasty hog-backed stile, which separated
us. I gave Little Lady her head, and she cantered
up to it, lighting on the other side like a very bird !
Bertie didn't speak as I trotted up to him, but he
looked up into my face with a triumphant smile
more eloquent than words.

*' You've given her enough, haven't you ? " he
remarked, patting her neck, as I dismounted in the
yard.

" You've given her enough," usually signifies
" you've given her too much." But I opined not,
and we walked round to the house tolerably well
convinced that the approaching banking transactions
would be on the right side of the book.

Despite a walk with Nellie, and the arrival of a
pile of music from town, the afternoon passed rather
slowly ; perhaps we were too anxious to be cheerful.
To make matters worse, dinner was to be postponed

ONLY THE MARE 139

till past eight, for the aunt was coming, and Nellie
was afraid the visitor would be offended if they did
not wait for her.

" You look very bored and tired, sir ! " said
Nellie pouting prettily; "I believe you'd yawn if
it wasn't rude ! "

I assured her that I could not, under any cir-
cumstances, be guilty of such an enormity.

" It's just a quarter past seven. We'll go and
meet the carriage, and then perhaps you'll be able
to keep awake until dinner-time ! " and so with a
look of dignity which would have been very effective
if the merry smile in her eyes had been less apparent,
the little lady swept out of the room ; to return
shortly arrayed in furs, and a most coquettish-
looking hat, and the smallest and neatest possible
pair of boots, which in their efforts to appear
strong and sturdy only made their extreme delicacy
more decided.

" Come, sleepy boy ! " said she, holding out a
grey-gloved hand. I rose submissively, and followed
her out of the snug drawing-room to the open air.

Bertie was outside, smoking.

" We are going to meet the aunt, dear," explained
Nellie. " I'm afraid she'll be cross, because it's so
cold."

" She's not quite so inconsequent as that, I should

140 ONLY THE MARE

fancy ; but it is cold, and isn't the ground hard ! "
I said.

" It is hard ! " cried Bertie, stamping vigorously.
" By Jove ! I hope it's not going to freeze ! " and
afflicted by the notion — for a hard frost would have
rendered it necessary to postpone the races — he
hurried off to the stables, to consult one of the men
who was weather-wise.

Some stone steps led from the terrace in front of
the house to the lawn ; at either end of the top-step
was a large globe of stone, and on to one of these
thoughtless little Nellie climbed. I stretched out
my hand, fearing that the weather had made it
slippery, but before I could reach her she slipped
and fell.

" You rash little person ! " I said, expecting
that she would spring up lightly.

" Oh ! my foot ! " she moaned ; and gave a little
shriek of pain as she put it to the ground.

I took her in my arms, and summoning her maid,
carried her to the drawing-room.

" Take off her boot," I said to the girl, but Nellie
could not bear to have her foot touched, and feebly
moaned that her arm hurt her.

" Oh ! pray send for a doctor, sir ! " implored the
maid, while Nellie only breathed heavily, with half-
closed eyes ; and horribly frightened, I rushed off,

ONLY THE MARE 141

hardly waiting to say a word to the poor little
sufferer.

" Whatever is the matter ? " Bertie cried, as I
burst into the harness-room.

" Where's the doctor ? " I replied, hastily.
" Nellie's hurt herself — sprained her ankle, and
hurt her arm — broken it, perhaps ! "

" How ? When ? " he asked.

" There's no time to explain. She slipped down.
Where's the doctor ? "

" Our doctor is ill, and has no substitute. There's
no one nearer than Lawson, at Oakley, and that's
twelve miles, very nearly."

" Then I must ride at once," I reply.

" Saddle my horse as quickly as possible," said
Bertie to the groom.

" He's lame, sir, can't move ! " the man replied,
and I remembered that it was so.

" Put a saddle on one of the carriage horses —
anything so long as there's no delay."

" They're out, sir ! Gone to the station. There's
nothing in the stable — only the mare ; and to
gallop her to Oakley over the ground as it is to-
night, will pretty well do for her chance to-morrow
— to say nothing of the twelve miles back again.
The carriage will be home in less than an hour, sir,'
the man remonstrated.

142 ONLY THE MARE

" It may be, you don't know, the trains are so
horridly unpunctnah Saddle the mare, Jarvis, as
quickly as you can — every minute may be of the
utmost value ! " As Bertie spoke the faintest look
of regret showed itself on his face for a second ; for
of course he knew that such a journey would very
materially affect, if it did not entirely destroy, the
mare's chance.

Jarvis, who I think had been speculating, very
reluctantly took down the saddle and bridle from
their pegs, but I snatched them from his arms, and
assisted by Bertie, was leading her out of the stable
in a very few seconds.

" Hurry on ! Never mind the mare — good
thing she's in condition," said Bertie, who only
thought now of his sister. " I'll go and see the girl."

" I can cut across the fields, can't I, by the cross
roads ? " I asked, settling in the saddle.

" No ! no ! Keep to the highway ; it's safer at
night. Go on ! " I heard him call as I went at a
gallop down the cruelly hard road.

The ground rang under the mare's feet, and in
spite of all my anxiety for Nellie I could not help
feeling one pang of regret for Little Lady, whose
free, bounding action, aucjured well for what her
chances would have been on the morrow — chances
which I felt were rapidly dying out ; for if this

ONLY THE MARE 143

journey didn't lame her nothing would. Stones
had just been put down as a matter of course ; but
there was no time for picking the way, and taking
tight hold of her head we sped on.

About a mile from the Lodge I came to the cross-
roads. Before me w^as a long vista of stone —
regular rocks, so imperfectly were they broken : to
the right was the smoother and softer pathway over
the fields — perfect going in comparison to the road.
Just over this fence, a hedge, and with hardly
another jump I should come again into the high-
way, saving quite two miles by the cut. Bertie
had said " Don't," but probably he had spoken
thoughtlessly, and it was evidently the best thing
to do, for the time I saved might be of the greatest
value to poor little suffering JSTellie ! I pulled
up, and drew the mare back to the opposite
hedge. She knew her work thoroughly. Three
bounds took her across the road : she rose — the
next moment I was on my back, shot some distance
into the field, and she was struggling up from the
ground. There had been a post and rail whose
existence I had not suspected, placed some six feet
from the hedge on the landing side. She sprang
up, no legs were broken ; and I, a good deal shaken
and confused, rose to my feet, wondering what to
do next. I had not had time to collect my

144 ONLY THE MARE

thoughts when I heard the rattle of a trap on the
road ; it speedily approached, and the moonlight
revealed the jolly features of old Tom Heathfield, a
friendly farmer.

" Accident, sir ? " he asked, pulling up. " What !
Mr Yaughan ! " as he caught sight of my face.

" What's the why 1 that ain't the mare, sure-

lie .? "

All the neighbourhood was in a ferment of ex-
citement about the races, and the sight of Little
Lady in such a place at such a time struck horror
to the honest old farmer.

" Yes, it is — I'm sorry to say. Miss Peyton
has met with an accident. I was going for the
doctor, and unfortunately there was nothing else in
the stable."

" You was going to Oakley, I s'pose, sir ? It'll
be ruination to the mare. Miss Peyton hurt her-
self ! I'll bowl over, sir ; it won't take long ; this
little horse o' mine can trot a good 'un ; and I can
bring the doctor with me. The fences, there, is
mended with wire. You'd cut the mare to pieces."

" I can't say how obliged to you I am "

" Glad of the opportunity of obliging Miss Peyton,
sir ; she's a real lady ! " He w^as just starting
when he checked himself. " There's a little public
house about a hundred yards further on ; if you

ONLY THE MARE 145

don't mind waiting there I'll send Smithers to look
at the mare. I pass his house. All right, sir."

His rough little cob started otf at a pace for
which I had not given it credit ; and I slowly
followed, leadingj the mare towards the cplimmering
light which Heathlield had pointed out. My
charge stepped out well, and I didn't think that
there was anything wrong, though glad, of course, to
have a professional opinion.

A man was hanging about the entrance to the
public-house, and with his assistance the mare was
bestowed in a kind of shed, half cow-house, half
stable ; and as the inside of the establishment did
not look by any means inviting, I lit a cigar and
lounged about outside, awaiting the advent of
Smithers.

He didn't arrive ; and in the course of wandering
to and fro I found myself against a window. Rest-
lessly I was just moving away when a voice inside
the room repeated the name of Blanhiey. I
started, and turning round, looked in.

It was a small apartment, with a sanded floor,
and two persons w^ere seated on chairs before the
fire conversing earnestly. One of them was a
middle-aged man, clad in a brown great-coat with
a profusion of fur-collar and cuffs which it would
scarcely be libel to term " mangy." He was the

146 ONLY THE MARE

owner of an unwholesome-looking face, decorated as
to the chin with a straggling crop of bristles which
he would have probably termed an imperial.

" Wust year I ever 'ad ! " he exclaimed (and a
broken pane in the window enabled me to hear-
distinctly), " The Two Thousand 'orse didn't run ;
got in deep over the Derby ; Hascot was hawful ;
and though I had a moral for the Leger, it went
down."

His own morals, judging from his appearance and
conversation, appeared to have followed the example
of that for the Leger.

" I can't follow your plans about this race down
here, though," said his companion, a younger man,
who seemed to hold the first speaker in great awe
despite his confessions of failure. " Don't you say
that this young Blankney's horse can't get the
distance ? "

" I do. He never was much good, I 'ear ; never
won nothing, though he's run in two or three
hurdle-races ; and since Phil Kelly's been preparing
of 'im for this race he's near about broke down.
His legs swell up like bolsters after his gallops ;
and he can't get three miles at all, I don't believe,
without he's pulled up and let lean agin something
on the journey to rest hisself."

" And yet you're backing him ? "

ONLY THE MARE 147

" And yet I'm backing of him."

" This young Peyton's mare can't be worse ? "
said the younger man, interrogatively.

" That mare, it's my belief, would be fancied
tor the Grand National if she was entered, and
some of the swells saw 'er. She's a real good 'un ! "
replied the man with the collar.

" I see. You've got at her jockey. You're an
artful one, you are."

As the jockey to whom they alluded, I was
naturally much interested.

" No, I ain't done that, neither. He's a gentle-
man, and it's no use talkin' to such as 'im. They
ain't got the sense to take up a good thing when
they see it — though, for the matter o' that, most of
the perfessionals is as bad as the gentlemen. All's
fair in love and war," says I ; " and this 'ere's
war."

" Does Blankney know how bad his horse is ? "

" No, bless yer ! That ain't Phil Kelly's game."
(Kelly was, I knew, the man who had charge of
my opponent's horse.)

" Well, then, just explain, will you ; for / can't
see."

From the recesses of his garment the elder man
pulled out a short stick about fifteen inches in
length, at the end of which was a loop of string ;

148 ONLY THE MARE

and from another pocket he produced a small paper
parcel.

" D'yer know what that is ? That's a ' twitch.'
D'yer know what that is? That's medicine. I
love this 'ere young feller's mare so much I'm
a-goin' to give it some nicey med'cine myself; and
this is the right stuff. I've been up to the 'ouse
to-day, and can find my way into the stable to-
night when it's all quiet. Just slip this loop over
'er lip, and she'll open 'er mouth. Down goes the
pill, and as it goes down the money goes into my
pocket. Them officer fellers and their friends have
been backing Blankney's 'orse ; but Phil Kelly will
take care that they hear at the last moment that
he's no good. Then they'll rush to lay odds on the
mare — and the mare won't win."

They laughed, and nudged each other in the side,
and I felt a mighty temptation to rush into the
room and nudge their heads with my fist. Little
Lady's delicate lips, which Nelly had so often petted,
to be desecrated by the touch of such villains as
these !

While struggling to restrain myself a hand was
laid on my shoulders, and, turning round, I saw
Smithers. We proceeded to the stable ; and I
hastily recounted to him what had happened, and
what I had heard, as he examined the mare by the

ONLY THE MARE 149

aid of a bull's-eye lantern. He passed his hand
very carefully over her, whilst I looked on with
anxious eyes.

" She's knocked a bit of skin off here, you see."
He pointed to a place a little below her knee, and
drawing a small box from his pocket, anointed the
leg. " But she's all right. All right, ain't you, old
lady ? " he said, patting her ; and his cheerful tone
convinced me that he was satisfied. '' We'll lead
her home. I'll go with you, sir ; and it's easy to
take means to prevent any games to-night."

When we reached home the doctor was there,
and pronounced that, with the exception of a sprained
ankle, Xelly had sustained no injury.

Eejoicing exceedingly, we proceeded to the stable;
Heathfield, who heard my story, and who was de-
lighted at the prospect of some fun, asking permission
to accompany us.

" Collars " had doubtless surveyed the premises
carefully, for he arrived about eleven o'clock,
and clambered quietly and skilfully into the hay-
loft above the stable, after convincing himself that
all was quiet inside. He opened the trap-door, and
down came a foot and leg, feeling about to find a
resting-place on the partition which divided Little
Lady's loose box from the other stalls. Bertie and
I took hold of the leg, and assisted him down, to
I L

150 ONLY THE MARE

his intense astonishment ; while Heathfield and a
groom gave chase to, and ultimately captured his
friend, the watcher on the threshold.

7^ ^ ^ 7^ ^

" If I'm well enough to do anything I'm well
enough to lie on the sofa ; and there's really no
difference between a sofa and an easy-chair — if my
foot is resting — and I'm sure the carriage is easier
than any chair ; and it can't matter about my foot
being an inch or two higher or lower — and as for
shaking, that's all nonsense. It's very unkind m-
deed of you not to want to take me ; and if you
won't, directly you've gone I'll get up, and walk
about, and sta7n]3 I "

Thus Nelly, in answer to advice that she should
remain at home. How it ended may easily be
guessed ; and though we tried to be dignified, as
we drove along, to punish her for her wilfulness,
her pathetic little expressions of sorrow that she
should " fall down, and hurt herself, and be such a
trouble to everybody," and child-like assurances
that she would " not do it again," soon made us
smile, and forget our half-pretended displeasure.
So with the aunt to take care of her, in case Bertie
and I were insufficient, we reached the course.

The first three races were run and then the card
said : —

ONLY THE MARE 151

3*15 Match, £120 a side, over the Steeple-chase Course, about
three miles and a half.

1. Mr Blankney, 14th Dragoons, ch. h. Jibboom, 5 years,
11 St. 7 lb., rose, black and gold cap.

2. Mr Peyton, b. m. Little Lady, 6 years, 11 st, sky-blue,
white cap.

Blankney was sitting on the regimental drag,
arrayed in immaculate boots and breeches, and,
after the necessary weighing ceremony had been gone
through he mounted the great Jibboom, which Phil
Kelly had been leading about : the latter gentleman
had a rather anxious look on his face ; but Blankney
evidently thought he was on a good one, and nodded
confidently to his friends on the drag as he lurched
down the course.

Little Lady was brought up to me, Smithers
beinej in close attendance.

" I shall be so glad, if you win," Nellie found
opportunity to whisper.

" What will you give me ? " I greedily inquire.

*' Anything you ask me," is the reply ; and my
heart beats high as, having thrown off my light
wrapper and mounted, Little Lady bounds down the
course, and glides easily over the hurdle in front of
the stand.

Bertie and Smithers were waiting at the starting-
post ; and, having shaken hands with Blankney,
to whom Bertie introduced me, I went apart to

152 ONLY THE MARE

exchange the last few sentences with my
friends.

Bertie is a trifle pale, but confident ; and Smithers
seems to have a large supply of the latter quality.
In however high esteem we hold our own opinions,
we are glad of professional advice when it comes to
the push ; and I seek instructions.

" Xo, sir, don't you wait on him. Go away as
hard as you can directly the flag drops. I don't
like the look of that chestnut's legs — or, rather, I
do like the look of them for our sakes. Go away
as hard as ever you can ; but take it easy at the
fences ; and, excuse me, sir, but just let the mare
have her head when she jumps, and she'll be all
right. People talk about ' lifting horses at their
fences : ' I only knew one man who could do it, and
he made mistakes."

I nod ; smiling as cheerfully as anxiety will per-
mit me. The flag falls, and Little Lady skims over
the ground, the heavy chestnut thundering away
behind.

Over the first fence — a hedge — and then across
a ploughed field ; rather hard going, but not nearly
so bad as I expected it would have been : the mare
moving beautifully. Just as I reach the second
fence a boy rushes across the course, baulking us ;
and before I can set her going again Jibboom has

ONLY THE MARE 153

come up level, and is over into the grass beyond
a second before us ; but I shoot past and again
take up the running. Before us are some posts
and rails — rather nasty ones ; the mare tops
them, and the chestnut hits them hard with all
four legs. Over more grass ; and in front, flanked
on either side by a crowd of white faces, is the
water-jump. I catch hold of her head and steady
her ; and then, she rises, flies through the air,
and lands lightly on the other side. A few
seconds after I hear a heavy splash ; but when,
after jumping the hurdle into the course, I glance
over my shoulder, the chestnut is still pounding
away behind. As I skim along past the stand the
first time round and the line of carriages opposite,
I catch sight of a waving white handkerchief : it
is Xellie ; and my confused glimpse imperfectly
reveals Bertie and Smithers standing on the box
of the carriacre.

I had seen visions of a finish, in which a certain
person clad in a light-blue jacket had shot ahead
just in the nick of time, and landed the race by con-
summate jockeyship after a neck-and-neck struggle
for the last quarter of a mile. This did not happen,
however, for, as I afterwards learned, the chestnut
refused a fence before he had gone very far, and,
having at last been got over, came to grief at the

154 ONLY THE MARE

posts and rails the second time round. Little Lady
cantered in alone ; Blankney strolling up some time
afterwards.

There is no need to make record of Bertie's delight
at the success. "We dined next day at the mess of the
14th, Blankney and his brethren were excessively
friendly, and seemed pleased and satisfied ; as most
assuredly were we. Blankney opines that he went
rather too fast at the timber ; but a conviction
seemed to be gaining ground towards the close
of the evening that he had not gone fast enough
at any period of the race.

And for JSTellie ? She kept her promise, and
granted my request ; and very soon after the ankle
was well we required the services of other horses
— grey ones !

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

" Jem Pike has just come round, gentlemen, to say
that they will be able to hunt to-day, after all : and
as it's about starting time, and you've some distance
to go, I will, if you wish, gentlemen, order your
horses round."

The announcement, as it came to us over our
breakfast at a hostelry which I will call the Lion,
in a market town which I will call Chippington
— a highly convenient hunting rendezvous in the
Midlands — was not a little welcome. Jem Pike
was the huntsman of the pack, and Jem Pike's
message was an intimation that the frost of last
night had not destroyed our sport for the day.
The morning broke in what Jem would call a
" plaguey ugly fashion : " from an artistic point of
view it had been divine : for hunting purposes it
had been execrable. A thin coating of ice on one's
bath indoors, a good stiff hoar frost out, crystallized
trees, and resonant roads — all this was seasonable,
very, and " pretty to look at, too." But it was " bad
for riding : " and we had not come to the Lion at

155

156 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

Chippingtoii in order to contemplate the beauties
of nature, but to brace our nerves with the healthy
excitement of the chase. Full of misgivings we
descended to breakfast, in hunting toggery notwith-
standing. As the sun shone out with increased
brilliance we began to grow more cheerful. The
frost, we said, was nothing, and all trace of it would
be gone before noon. The waiter shook his head
dubiously, suggested that there was a good billiard-
table, and enquired as to the hour at which we
would like to dine. But the waiter, as the event
proved, was wrong, and we were still in the middle
of breakfast when the message of the huntsman of
the Chippington pack arrived — exactly what we
had each of us said. Of course the frost was noth-
ing : we had known as much ; and now the great
thing was to get breakfast over, and ''then to horse
away."

After all there is nothing for comfort like the
old-fashioned hunting hotels, and unfortunately they
are decreasing in number every year. Still the
Lion at Chippington remains ; and I am happy
to say that I know of a few more like the Lion.
They are recognisable at a glance. You may tell
them by the lack of nineteenth century filagree
decoration which characterises their exterior, by the
cut of the waiters, by the knowing look of the

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 157

boots. Snug are their coftee-rooms, luxurious their
beds, genial their whole atmosphere. It is just
possible that if you were to take your wife to such
an establishment as the Lion, she would complain
that an aroma of tobacco smoke pervaded the
atmosphere. But the hunting hotel is conspicuously
a bachelor's house. Its proprietor, or proprietress,
does not lay himself or herself out for ladies and
ladies' maids. It is their object to make single
gentlemen, and gentlemen who enjoy the temporary
felicity of singleness, at home. If it is your first
visit, you are met in a manner which clearly intim-
ates that you were expected. If you are an old
hahitue you find that all your wants are anticipated,
and all your peculiar fancies known. The waiter
understands exactly — marvellous is the memory of
this race of men — what you like for breakfast :
whether you prefer a " wet fish " or a " dry : " and
recollects to a nicety your particular idea of a
dinner. Under any circumstances a week's hunting
is a good and healthy recreation : but it is difficult
to enjoy a week's hunting more perfectly than in
one of these hostelries, which have not, I rejoice to
to say, yet been swept away by the advancing tide
of modern improvement.

Of whom did our company consist ? We were
not a party of Meltonian squires, such as it would

158 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

have delighted the famous Nimrod to describe. We
were neither Osbaldestones nor Sir Harry Good-
rickes : neither Myddelton Biddulphs nor Holy-
oakes. A Warwickshire or an Oxfordshire hunting
field differs very materially, so far as regards its
personnel, from a Leicester or a Northamptonshire
gathering. The latter still preserves the memories
and the traditions of a past regime, when hunting
was confined to country gentlemen, farmers, and a
few rich strangers : the former is typical of the
new order of things under which hunting has
ceased to be a class amusement, and has become a
generally popular sport. Now it is not too much
to claim for hunting at the present day this char-
acter. The composition of the little band which on
the morning now in question left the Lion Hotel at
Chippington, bound for covert, was no unimport-
ant testimony to this fact. We were half a dozen
in number, and comprised among ourselves a
barrister, a journalist, a doctor, and a couple of
Civil servants, who had allowed themselves a week's
holiday, and who, being fond of riding, had deter-
mined to take it in this way. In an average hunt-
ing field of the present day you will discover men
of all kinds of professions and occupations — attor-
neys, auctioneers, butchers, bakers, innkeepers, artists,
sailors, authors. There is no town in England

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 159

which has not more than one pack of hounds in its
immediate vicinity ; and you will find that the
riders who make up the regular field are inhabitants
of the town — men who are at work four or five
days in the week at their desk or counter, and who
hunt the remaining one or two. There is no
greater instrument of social harmony than that of
the modern hunting field: and, it may be added,
there is no institution which affords a healthier
opportunity for the ebullition of what may be called
the democratic instincts of human nature. The
hunting field is the paradise of equality : and the
only title to recognition is achievement. ''Eank,"
says a modern authority on the sport, " has no
privilege ; and wealth can afford no protection."
Out of the hunting field there may be a wide gulf
which separates peasant from peer, tenant from land-
lord. But there is no earthly power which can
compel the tenant to give way to the landlord, or
the peasant to the peer, when the scent is good and
hounds are in full cry.

As we get to the bottom of the long and irregu-
larly - paved street which constitutes the main
thoroughfare — indeed, I might add, the entire town
of Chippington — we fall in with other eques-
trians bound for Branksome Bushes — the meet
fixed for that day — distant not more than two miles

160 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

from Chippington itself. There was the chief
medical man of the place, mounted on a very clever
horse, the head of the Chippington bank, and
some half-dozen strangers. As we drew near to
" the Bushes " we saw that there had already con-
gregated a very considerable crowd. There were
young ladies, some who had come just to see them
throw off, and others with an expression in their
faces, and a cut about their habits, which looked
like business, and which plainly indicated that they
intended, if possible, to be in at the death. There
were two or three clergymen who had come from
adjoining parishes, and one or two country squires.
There were some three or four Oxford undergradu-
ates— Chippington is within a very convenient
distance of the city of academic towers — who were
" staying up " at their respective colleges for the
purpose of reading during a portion of the vaca-
tion, and who found it necessary to vary the
monotony of intense intellectual application by
an occasional gallop with the Chippington or
Bicester pack. Then, of course, there was the
usual contingent of country doctors : usual, I say,
for the medical profession gravitates naturally to-
wards equestrianism. If a country doctor rides at
all, you may be sure he rides well, and is well
mounted, moreover. There was also a very bois-

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 161

terous and hard-riding maltster, who had acquired a
considerable reputation in the district : a fair
sprinkling of snobs ; one or two grooms and stable
cads. There was also an illustrious novelist of the
day, the guest of Sir Cloudesley Spanker, Bart.,
and Sir Cloudlesley Spanker, Bart., himself.

We had drawn Branksome Bushes and the result
was a blank. Local sportsmen commence to be
prolific of suggestions. There was Henham Gorse,
for instance, and two gentlemen asseverated most
positively, upon intelligence w^nch was indisputably
true, that there was a fox in that quarter. Another
noble sportsman, who prided himself especially on
his local knowledge, pressed upon Jem Pike the
necessity of turning his attention next to the
Enderby Woods, to all of wdiich admonitions, how-
ever, Mr Pike resolutely turned a deaf ear. These
are among the difficulties which the huntsman of a
subscription pack has to encounter or withstand.
Every Nimrod who pays his sovereign or so a year
to the support of the hounds considers he has a
right to a voice in their management. Marvellous
is the sensitiveness of the amateur sportsman. It
is a well-established fact, that you cannot more
grievously wound or insult the feelings of the
gentleman who prides himself upon his acquaintance
with horses than by impugning the accuracy of his

162 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

judgment in any point of equine detail. Hint to
your friend, who is possessed with the idea that he
is an authority upon the manners and customs of
foxes in general, and upon those of any one neigh-
bourhood in particular, that there exists a chance
of his fallibility, and he will resent the insinuation
as a mortal slight. Jem Pike had his duty to do to
the pack and to his employers, and he steadfastly
refused to be guided or misguided by amateur advice.
So, at Jem's sweet will, we jogged on from Brank-
some Bushes to Jarvis Spinney, and at Jar vis
Spinney the object of our quest was obtained.

'Tis a pretty sight, the find and the throw off. You
see a patch of gorse literally alive with the hounds,
their sterns flourishing above its surface. Some-
thing has excited them, and there *' the beauties "
go, leaping over each other's backs. Then issues a
shrill kind of whimper: in a moment one hound
challenges, and next another. Then from the hunts-
man comes a mighty clieer that is heard to the
echo. " He's gone," say half a score of voices.
Hats are pressed on, cigars thrown away, reins
gathered well up, and lo and behold they are ofil
A very fair field we were on the particular morning
to which I here allude. The rector, I noticed, who
had merely come to the meet, was well up with the
first of us. Notwithstanding remonstrances addressed

HUNTING IN THE IVUDLANDS 163

by timid papas and well-drilled grooms in attend-
ance, Alice and Clara Vernon put their horses at
the first fence, and that surmounted had fairly
crossed the Eubicon. Nay, the contagion of the
enthusiasm spread, as is always the case on such
occasions, for their revered parents themselves were
unable to resist the attraction. Sir Cloudesley
Spanker asserted his position in the first rank, as
did also the distinguished novelist, his guest.

It has been remarked that all runs with fox-
hounds are alike on paper and different in reality.
We were fortunate enough to have one that was
certainly above the average with the Chipping-
ton hounds. Our fox chose an excellent line of
country, and all our party from the Lion enjoyed
the distinction of being in at the death. Mishaps
there were, for all the bad jumpers came signally
to grief. Old Sir Cloudesley related with much
grim humour the melancholy aspect that two dis-
mounted strangers presented who had taken up
their lodging in a ditch. The two Miss Vernons
acquitted themselves admirably ; so did the rector,
and I am disposed to think that the company both
of the ladies and the farmers vastly improved our
hunting field. It is quite certain that clergymen,
more than any other race of men, require active
change, and they need what they can get nowhere

164 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

better than in a hunting field. Nor in the modern
hunting field is there anything which either ladies
or clergymen need fear to face. The strong words
and the strange oaths, the rough language — in fine,
what has been called " the roaring lion element,"
these are accessories of the chase which have long
since become things of the past. And the consum-
mation is a natural consequence of the catholicity
which hunting has acquired. There are no abuses
like class abuses. Once admit the free lisjht of
publicity, and they vanish.

There are hunting farmers and huntiog parsons,
clergymen who make the chase the business of their
lives, and those who get a day with the hounds as an
agreeable relief to their professional toils. There is
not much to be said in favour of the former order,
which has, by the way,nearly become extinct. It sur-
vives in Wales and in North Devon yet, and curious
are the authentic stories which might be narrated
about these enthusiastic heroes of top-boots and spur.
There is a little village in North Devon where, till
within a very few years, the meet of the stag-
hounds used to be given out from the reading desk
every Sunday after the first lesson. Years ago,
when one who is now a veteran amongst the fox-
hunting clerics of that neighbourhood first entered
upon his new duties, he was seized with a desire to

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 165

reform the ways of the natives and the practices of
the priests. Installed in his new living, he deter-
mined to forswear hounds and hunting entirely.
He even carried his orthodoxy to such a point as to
institute daily services, which at first, however, were
very well attended. Gradually his congregation
fell off, much to the grief of the enthusiastic pastor.
One day, observing his churchwardens lingering in
the aisle after the service had been concluded, he
went up and asked them whether they could at all
inform him of the origin of the declension. " Well,
sir," said one of the worthies thus addressed, " we
were a-going to speak to you about the very same
thing. You see, sir, the parson of this parish do
always keep hounds. Mr Froude, he kept fox-
hounds, Mr Bellew he kept harriers, and least ways
we always expect the parson of this parish to keep
a small cry of sicnwiut." Whereupon the rector
expressed his entire willingness to contribute a sum
to the support of " a small cry " of harriers, pro-
vided his congregation found the remainder. The
experiment was tried and was completely successful,
nor after that day had the new rector occasion to
complain of a deficiency in his congregation.

Tories of the old school, for instance Sir Cloudes-
ley Spanker, who has acquitted himself so gallantly
to-day, would no doubt affirm that fox-hunting has

I M

166 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

been fatally injured as a sport by railways. The
truth of the proposition is extremely questionable,
and it may be dismissed in almost the same breath
as the sinister predictions which are never verified
of certain naval and military officers on the subject
of the inevitable destiny of their respective services.
Eailways have no doubt disturbed the domestic
tranquillity of the fox family, and have compelled
its various members to forsake in some instances
the ancient Lares and Penates. But the havoc
which the science of man has wrought, the skill of
man has obviated. Foxes are quite as dear to
humanity as they can be to themselves ; and in
proportion as the natural dwellings of foxes have
been destroyed artificial homes have been provided
for them. Moreover, railways have had the effect
of bringing men together, and of establishing all
over the country new fox-hunting centres. Hunting
wants money, and railways have brought men with
money to the spots at which they were needed.
They have, so to speak, placed the hunting field at
the very doors of the dwellers in town. In London
a man may breakfast at home, have four or live
hours' hunting fifty miles away from the metro-
politan chimney-pots, and find himself seated at his
domestic mahogany for a seven o'clock dinner. Nor
is it necessary for the inhabitant of London to go

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS '[67

such a distance to secure au excellent day's hunt-
ing. To say nothing of her Majesty's staghounds,
there are first-rate packs in Surrey, Essex, and
Kent, all within a railway journey of an hour.
Here again the inveterate laud cf tor tem2:)oris adi
will declare he discerns greater ground for dis-
satisfaction than congratulation. He will tell you
that in consequence of those confounded steam-
engines the field gets flooded by cockneys who can't
ride, who mob the covert, and effectually prevent
the fox from breaking. Of course it is indisputable
that railways have familiarised men who never
hunted previously with horses and with hounds, and
that persons now venture upon the chase whose
forefathers may have scarcely known how to dis-
tinguish between a dog and a horse. Very likely,
moreover, it would be much better for fox-hunting
if a fair proportion of these new-comers had never
presented themselves in this their new capacity.
At the same time with the quantity of the horse-
men there has been some improvement also in
the quality of the horsemanship. Leech's typical
cockney Nimrod may not have yet become extinct,
but he is a much rarer specimen of sporting
humanity than was formerly the case.

It is a great thing for all Englishmen that hunt-
ing should have received this new development

168 HINTING IN THE MIDLANDS

among us, and for the simple reason that salutary
as is the discipline of all field sports, that of hunt-
ing is so in the most eminent degree. " Eide
straight to hounds and talk as little as possible,"
was the advice given by a veteran to a youngster
who was discussing the secret mode in which popu-
larity was to be secured ; and the sententious maxim
contains a great many grains of truth. English-
men admire performance, and without it they
despise words. Performance is the only thing
which in the hunting field meets with recognition
or sufferance, and the braggart is most inevitably
brought to his proper level in the course of a
burst of forty minutes across a good country. Again,
the hunting field is the most admirably contrived
species of discipline for the temper. Displays of
irritation or annoyance are promptly and effectively
rebuked ; and the man who cannot bear with
fitting humility the reprimand, when it is merited,
of the master or huntsman, will not have long
to wait for the demonstrative disapproval of his
compeers.

Hunting has been classed amongst those sports
— detestata matrihus — by reason of the intrinsic risk
which it involves. Is it in any degree more dan-
gerous than cricket or football, sliooting or Alpine
climbing ? In Great Britain and Ireland there are

HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 169

at present exactly two hundred and twenty packs
of hounds. Of these some hunt as often as five
days a week, others not more frequently than two.
The average may probably be fixed at the figure
three. Eoughly the hunting season lasts twenty-
five weeks, while it may be computed that at least
ninety horsemen go out with each pack. We thus
have one million four hundred and fifty-eight
thousand as the total of the occasions on which
horse and rider feel the perils of the chase. " If,"
said Anthony Trollope, in the course of some
admirable remarks on the subject, " we say that a
bone is broken annually in each hunt, and a man
killed once in two years in all the hunts together,
we think that we exceed the avera^^^e of casualties.
At present there is a spirit abroad which is desirous
of maintaining the manly excitement of enterprise
in which some peril is to be encountered, but which
demands at the same time that it should be done
without any risk of injurious circumstances. Let
us have the excitement and pleasure of danger, but
for God's sake no danger itself. This at any rate
is unreasonable."

These observations have somewhat diverted me
from the thread of the original narrative. Should,
however, the reader desire more precise information
as to the particular line of country taken up by the

170 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS

fox on that eventful day with the Chippington
hounds, will he not find it written for him in his
favourite sporting paper ?

So we met, so we hunted, and so we rode home
and dined ; and if any person who is not entirely
a stranger to horses wishes to enjoy a few days'
active recreation and healthy holidays, he cannot, I
would submit, for the reasons which I have above
attempted to enumerate, do better than go down to
the Lion at Chippington, and get a few days with
the Chippington hounds.

A MILITAEY STEEPLE-CHASE

We were quartered in a very sporting part of the
country, where the hunting season was always
wound up by a couple of days' steeple-chasing.
The regiment stationed here had usually given a
cup for a military steeple-chase, and when we de-
termined to give one for an open military handicap
chase, the excitement was very great as to our
chances of winning the cup we had given. As
there were some very good horses and riders in
the regiment, it appeared a fair one, eight nomin-
ations having been taken by us. There were also
about the same number taken by regiments in the
district. Our Major, who was a first-rate horseman,
entered his well-known horse Jerry ; I and others
nominated one each, but one sub., a very celebrated
character amongst us, took two. This man's father
had made a very large fortune by nursery gardens,
and put liis son into the army, where, of course, he
was instantly dubbed "The Gardener." He was by
no means a bad sort of fellow, but he never could
ride. The riding-master almost cried as he said he

172 A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE

never could make '' The Gardener " even look like
riding ; not that he was destitute of pluck, but he
was utterly unable to stick on the horse. He had
a large stud of hunters, but when out he almost
invariably tumbled off at each fence.

Amongst those who nominated horses was the
celebrated Captain Lane, of the Hussars, who was
said to be so good a jockey that the professionals
grumbled greatly at having to give him amateurs'
allowance. No one was better at imperceptibly
boring a competitor out of the course ; and at caus-
ing false starts and balking at fences he was without
a rival. The way he would seem to be hard on his
horse with his whip, when only striking his own
leg, was quite a master-piece. Eeport declared that
he trained all his own horses to these dodges, and I
believe it was quite true, as his were quite quiet
and cool under the performances when the rest
were almost fretted out of their lives.

When the handicap came out I found, to my
great disgust, that such a crusher had been put on
my horse that I at once put the pen through his
name — not caring to run him on tlie off-cliance of his
standing up and the rest coming to grief, or with tlie
probability, anyhow, of a punishing finish. How-
ever, the next night after mess, the Major called me
up to him in the ante-room, and said : " I liear you

A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE 173

have scratched your horse, and quite right, too. I
have accepted, and if you like to have the mount,
you are quite welcome." Of course, I was greatly
delighted, but told him that I had never ridden in
steeple-chase before. " But I have," growled the
Major, " and am not going to waste over this tin-
pot," as he irreverently called the cup, " so I
can show you the ropes. Come to my quarters
after breakfast to-morrow, and we will try the
horse."

The next day I went there, and found the Major
mounted, awaiting me, and Jerry — a very fine brown
horse, with black points. I soon discovered that
he had one decided peculiarity — viz., at his first
fence, and sometimes the second, instead of ejoincr
up and taking it straight, he would whip round
suddenly and refuse. On thinking what coidd be
the cause of this trick, I came to the conclusion
that his mouth must have been severely punished
by the curb when he was first taught jumping ;
and on telling the Major my idea, he allowed me
to ride him as I pleased, so instead of an ordinary
double bridle, I put one with a couple of snaffles
in liis mouth, and very soon found that this had
the desired effect. Indeed, after a few days, he
took his first fence all right, unless flurried, and
before the day seemed quite trustworthy.

174 A MILITAKY STEEPLE-CHASE

When we got back after our first day's ride, the
Major told me, rather to my amusement, that I
must go into training as well as the horse, — adding,
what was quite true, that he had seen more amateur
races lost through the rider being beat before the
horse than by any other means ; so when I had
given Jerry his gallops in the morning, I had to
start a mile run in the afternoon in flannels or
sweaters.

The course was entirely a natural one, about
three miles and a half round, and only two ugly
places in it, chiefly grass, with one piece of light
plough and some seeds. The first two fences were
wattles on a bank, with a small ditch, then an
ordinary quickset hedge, followed by an old and
stiff bullfinch. After this a post and rails, a bank
with a double ditch, and merely ordinary fences
till we came to a descent of about a quarter of a
mile, with a stream about twelve feet wide, and a
bank on the taking- off side. Xext came some grass
meadows, with a very nasty trappy ditch, not more
than four feet wide, but with not the slightest bank
or anything of the kind on either side, — ^just the
thing for a careless or tired horse to gallop into.
The last fence, which was the worst of all, was, I
fancy, the boundary of some estate or parish, and
consisted of a high bank, with a good ditch on eacli

A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE 175

side — on the top a young, quick-set hedge, and, to
prevent horses or cattle injuring it, two wattle
fences, one on each side, slanting outwards. After
this, there was a slight ascent of about 300 yards ;
then there was dead level of about a quarter of a
mile up to the winning-post.

On the evening before the chase, we had a grand
cjuest nidit, to which, of course, all the officers of
other regiments who had entered horses were in-
vited. We youngsters were anxious to see Captain
Lane, of whom we had heard so much.

On his arrival, after the usual salutations,
he enquired of the Major whether he was going
to ride, and, on receiving a negative, asked who
was ; and on having the intending jockeys pointed
out to him, just favoured us with a kind of con-
temptuous glance, never taking any furtlier notice
of us.

The celebrated Captain was a slight man, about
five feet eight inches, with not a particularly pleasant
look about his eyes, and looking far more the jock
than the soldier. The steeple-chases were fixed for
the next day at 2.30 r.M., but, as a matter of fact,
all the riders were on the ground long before that
for the purpose of examining the ground and the
fences.

The Major came to see me duly weighed out, and

176 A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE

gave me instructions as to riding — that I was not
on any account to race with everyone w4io came
alongside me, nor to make the running at first,
unless the pace was very slow and muddling, of
which there was little danger, for quite half the
jocks, he said, would go off as if they were in for a
five furlong spin, and not for a four mile steeple-chase.

I was to lie behind, though handy, until we came
to the descent to the stream and then make the
pace down and home as hot as I could, — to find out
the " dicky forelegs," he said, kn owning that Jerry's
were like steel.

We all got down to the post pretty punctually,
and, of course, in a race of this description, the
starter had no difficulty in dropping his flag at the
first attempt.

I gave Jerry his head, and to my joy he took
the first fence as straight and quietly as possible,
so taking a pull at him, I was at once passed by
some half dozen men (the gallant " Gardener "
amongst them) going as hard as they could tear.
It was lucky for them that the fences were light
and old, as most of the horses rushed through
them. When they got to the bullfinch, one horse
refused, and another attempting to, slipped up and
lay in a very awkward looking lump, jock and all
close under it. The rest havincr been a little

A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE 1

t i

steadied took it fairly enough. Jerry jumped it as
coolly as possible, like the regular old stager that
he was, in spite of Captain Lane coming up at the
time with a great rush, evidently hoping to make
him refuse.

When we landed on the other side a ludicrous
spectacle presented itself, the gallant " Gardener "
being right on his horse's neck, making frantic
attempts to get back into his saddle, which were
quite unsuccessful, and the horse coming to the
next fence, a post and rail, quietly took it standing,
then putting down his head slipped his rider off'
and galloped on without him.

The field now began to come back to us very
quickly, and soon the leading lot were Vincent of
ours, a splendid rider, as I thought, and as it turned
out, my most dangerous opponent, with a Carabinier
in close attendance ; then myself, with Captain
Lane waiting on me, and watching the pair of us
most attentively, so that it seemed almost impossible
that I should have any chance of slipping him.
However, an opportunity did present itself at
length, which I took advantage of — hearing a horse
coming up a tremendous " rattle " on my right.

I looked round to see who and what it was.
Lane, noticing what I was doing, looked round
too. Seeing this I loosed Jerry's head, and

178 A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE

giving him at the same time a slight touch with
the spur, he shot out completely — slipping the
Captain, passing the Carabinier, and getting head
and head with Vincent. Down the hill we
went as hard as we could, clearing the water
side by side. At the grip in the fields beyond
I gained slightly by not taking a steadier at Jerry,
trusting to his eyesight and cleverness to avoid
grief.

As we got to the best fence, the ugly boundary
one, I did take a pull, the jump looking as nasty a
one as could well be picked out ; however, the old
horse did it safely, and Vincent and myself landed
side by side in the winning field, amidst most
tremendous shouting and cheering from our men,
who were standing as thick as thick could be on
each side of the course.

The excitement was terrific as we came up,
apparently tied together, but giving Jerry a couple
of sharp cuts with the whip, I found my leg gradu-
ally passing Vincent's, until at length I was nearly
opposite his horse's head, and thus we passed the
winning post, to my great relief. I did not know
how much my opponent's horse had left in him,
and expected him to come up with a rush at the
last, in which case I doubted whether I should be
able to get anything more out of Jerry in time, as

A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE l79

lie was rather a lazy horse, though possessing enor-
mous " bottom."

I had scarcely pulled up and turned round to go
to the scales, before I met the Major, who told me
I was " not to make a fool of myself and dismount,"
before the clerk of the scales told me to, and then
he pitched into me for riding at the " Grip," as I
did, apprising me at the same time that he did not
care how I risked my neck, but " I might have
hurt the horse," adding, after a pause, and with a
grunt, '' but you won."

The delight of our men was so great at two of
their officers being first and second, that it was all
that Vincent and myself could do to avoid being
carried about on their shoulders after we had
weighed in.

The gallant captain was most awfully disgusted
at being beaten by " a couple of boys," and went off
immediately — resisting all invitations to stop and
dine at mess. I subsequently found out that when
I slipped him (at which he was particularly angry)
he gave his horse a sharp cut with his whip, which
seemed quite to upset it.

On coming down to the water the horse jumped
short — dropping his hind legs in, and at the " Grip,"
nearly got in, only saving itself by bucking over it,
and at the big boundary absolutely came down on

180 A MILITARY STEEPLE-CHASE

landing, though his rider managed to keep his
seat.

As for myself, I need not say how delighted I
was at winning my first steeplechase, though the
Major did tell me that a monkey would have ridden
as well, and helped the horse as much as I did.
" But I IVOR " was always my reply.

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

TOLD BY THE WINNER

It was a foot-racing handicap, run just after Christ-
mas at Sheffield, and how I came to win happened
in this wise. At eighteen I found myself still
living, say, at Stockton-on-Tees, on the borders of
Yorkshire, the town of my birth. My trade was
that of a wood-turner, and with but half my time
served. " Old Tubby " found me an unwilling
apprentice, who had not the least inclination for
work. Stockton, though only a little place, is noted
for sporting and games of all sorts — but particularly
for cricket. I played, of course, but they didn't
" reckon " much of me, except for fielding. " Sikey,"
who was a moulder, and I, kept ferrets and dogs,
too, and on Sundays we used to go up the " Teeside "
after rabbits, or rats, or anything we could get.
Sometimes we stripped and had a " duck," and then
we ran on the bank barefoot. I could give him
half a score yards start in a field's length, and win
easily ; but often I didn't try to get up till close

I N '5'

182 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

upon the hedge we had agreed should be the
winniug-post. My father had been coachman to a
sporting gent who kept race-horses, and the old man
used to talk for everlasting about the " Chifney
rush." When first Sikey and I ran I tried to beat
him, so he made me give a start. Then I thought
of the 'cute old jockey, and I used to try and get
up and win in the last yard or so.

One day Locker, who had formerly kept a run-
ning ground at Staleybridge, met me, and asked if
I'd go out with him next Saturday and have a spin.
I told him I " didn't mind ; " so we went up the
turnpike till a straight level bit was found, and he
stepped 100 yards, leaving me at the start, saying,
" Come away as hard as thou can, whenever thou
art ready." He had his hands in his topcoat pocket
all the while, and when I finished, we walked on a
bit, neither speaking for a quarter of a mile further,
when he looked at his watch and said it was
" getting dinner-time." Soon after he looked again,
and then " took stock o' me from head to foot," and
as we passed the ground I had run over, he asked,
" Canst run another hundred ? " I told him I could ;
but tliis time he pulled off his own coat, and said,
" We'll go together." He was quickest off, but I
could have passed him any time, just as I used to
pass Sikey. When we got nearly to the finish I

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP 183

" put it on " aucl just got home first. He seemed
pleased and told me not to say a word to anybody,
but come down and meet him ao-ain. I didn't know
what he was about at all, but I said " All right,"
and next Saturday went to the same place. Locker
was there, and two other coves with him, as I hadn't
seen before. One was a tall thin un he called
" Lanky," and the other was little and wiry, and
rather pock-pitted. He said, "Let's all four run
for a ' bob ' a-piece, and you three give me two yards
start ? " But they wouldn't ; so he said, I should
run the " lonc,^ un " for a crown. That was soon
settled, and just before we started, Locker whispered
to me, " Beat him, lad, if thou canst ; I want him
licked, he is such a bragger. We'll share t' crown
if thou wins." The little un set us off, and Locker
was judge. Well, we got away together, and I
headed him in by five yards easy. Locker fairly
danced, he was so pleased ; and though Lanky
grumbled a bit at first to part with his " crown," he
was soon all right. We went to Locker's to dinner,
and talked about " sprinting," as they called it, all
the afternoon. I told 'em I'd never run at all
before except for fun, and they seemed " fairly
staggered." They asked if I would run a match
for £5 next week, and I told 'em I didn't mind.
Locker said I was a " good un," and I might " win

184 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

£100 if I'd nobbut stick tu him." Weil, we agreed
that I was to do just as he directed, and receive a
sovereign for myself if I won by just a foot, and
two pound if I ran a dead heat, letting the " novice "
who was to be my opponent catch me at the finish.
I never " split " to anybody except Sikey, and he
went to see the race. Over a hundred people were
tliere, and off we started. Everybody thought I
was winning, but I " shammed tired," and he beat
me about three inches, the judge said. Locker
swore it was a dead heat, and as he had laid 2 to I
on me I thought he'd lost a lot of money. As we
went home, he said, "There's £2 for thee, lad; thou
did it wonderful well ; I shall match thee again
next Saturday for £20 : we might as well have it
as anybody else." Well, during the week I was
out with him every night, and he said, " Stick to
me, and we'll mak these coves sit up. Thou'rt a
thunderin' good un, and we'll gan to Sheffield together
in less nor six months if thou can keep thysel to
thysel." Of course I was pleased, and I bought a new
pair of running-shoes with spikes in. He showed
me The sporting Life next week, with a challenge
in that " ' Locker's lad,' not satisfied with his late
defeat, will take a yard in a 100 from the 'Stockton
Novice,' for £25 or £50 a-side. A deposit to the
editor and articles sent to Mr Locker's running-

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP 185

grounds, Stockton, will meet with immediate atten-
tion." I was quite struck, and said I wondered
what " Old Tubby " would think if he knew. Locker
said, " Go ask him for thy indentures, and if he
won't give 'em up, ask him what he'll tak for 'em."
So I did, and if I hadn't been in such a hurry, he'd
have thrown 'em at me, and said he was glad to get
rid of an idle rascal. As it was, I told him I'd
something else to do, and he demanded £3 for my
release. Locker gave me the money next day, and
I soon put the indentures in the fire ; thanking my
stars for the escape. After this I lived at Locker's
altogether, and in two or three days an answer
came from the " Novice," to say he'd give 2 yards
start in 150. Well, that didn't seem to suit
Locker, so he replied, through the paper again, that
" Sooner than not run again, his lad should run the
'Novice' 100 yards level at Kenham grounds for
£25 a side. To run in three weeks." Articles
came and were signed on these terms. Then he
said, " Thou needn't train at all, though I want thee
to win this time by nearly a yard ; just stay a bit
longer than before, and don't let him quite catch
thee. Make a good race of it, but be sure and win."
We often went to the old spot on the turnpike, and
once he took a tape and measured the ground. He
had stepped it within a yard and a half. At last

186 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

he showed me his watch that he had won in a handi-
cap. There was a long hand which jumped four
times in a second, and he could start it or stop it by
pressing a spring whenever he liked. Then I held
it while he ran, and found he was just 1 1 sec. doing
his 100 yards. I tried, and was " ten and a beat,"
which he told me was reckoned first-rate time.
While I stopped with him I found out all about
" sprints " and " quarters," and how long a man
ought to be running different distances. I asked,
too, about tlie last race ; why he could afford to
give me £2 when I lost ? He said the two " fivers "
he had bet were with " pals," and he lost nothing
but my stake. Then he told me about the little
man and Lanky, whom I had met with him and run
against. The " long 'un," he said, was a very good
" trial horse," who could keep his tongue in his head,
and would " stand in " if I w^on anything. The
little un had been on business in the north, and
came round to see him (Locker). It was all chance
his being there, but I should see him again, farther
south, where he kept a running ground. Well, the
day for our race came at last, and we went to Ken-
ham. I was wrapped in a blanket after we stripped,
and a stout man, called Woldham, who stood referee,
whispered something to Locker, who replied tliat I
was fit and sure to win. They laid 5 to 4 against

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP 187

me at first, but presently I heard evens offered, and
then £22 to £20 on me, and that was as far as
Locker's friends would go. We had a lot of
" fiddling," as they call it, at the mark, but pre-
sently we jumped away, I with an advantage of
about a yard. I had made the gap quite four yards
at half the distance, and then " died away " till near
the post, wliere, as the Chronicle next Monday said,
I " struggled manfully, and took the tape first by
half a yard; time, lOi sec." Hadn't we a jaw as
we went back ! Locker said I was a " wonderful
clever lad," and that Woldham had told him I
should be " heard of again." We both laughed, and
I got £5 for winning. With this I bought a new
rig out, and everybody at Stockton that knew me
said I was " ruined for life." They all wanted to
know where the togs came from, however, but I
kept that to myself.

It was now September, and Locker said, '' I'll
enter thee for a handicap." So he did, and shortly
afterwards we went to Kenham again, where, by his
directions, I was beat for my heat, with 5 yards start
in 120. About a week later, we had a long talk, and
then he said, "I)ost know what I've been doing,
lad ? " I told him I thought he meant to get me a good
start and try if I could win. " Thou'rt partly right,"
he said, " but I've been running thee 100 yards, and

188 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

letting thee lose in t' last few strides. This makes
'em think thou can't stay. I know thou'rt as good
at 150 as 100, so I shall train thee and run thee at
Sheffield this Christmas. If thou can win there, we
can earn £1000 between us, and if thou can only
run into a place, we shall make £50 or £100
apiece ; but mind, we shall let t' cat out o' t' bag :
thou'll never get on a mark again after trying once."
Presently, Merling and Stemmerson advertised a
£40 handicap at Kenham, and I entered; then
came the big Sheffielder of £80, and down went my
name for that too. I lived very regular all this
time, went to bed early, and practised the distance
every day, till Locker said I was a '' level time "
man, and if I didn't w^in it would be a " fluke."
At last the start appeared : I got in at 7 yards in
the 130 at Newcastle, and my mark was 67 in 210
yards at Eyde Park. Locker was delighted : " Thou
can win 'em both in a walk, lad," he said, again and
again. Then the betting quotations were sent up
week after week, and I was at 5 0 to 1 long enough
at Sheffield. There wasn't much doing on the 130
yards race, so Locker said I might go there on the
Saturday and lose my first heat. He didn't lay out
a penny any way till we went into Alf Wihier's,
the Punch Bowl, on Sunday night. Somebody
presently asked my price, and, to my surprise, up

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP 189

got the little pock-marked man I had met, and said
he was commissioned to take 60 to 1 to £5, just
for a " fancy " bet. A big Sheffielder opened his
book and said he might as well have the " fiver " as
not, and there I was backed to win £300 already.
Locker and I went away to bed about nine o'clock,
and next morning in came the little 'un at six to
tell us he'd ta'en five fifties more, then five forties,
ten thirties, and ten twenties, and I was now in the
market at 12 to 1 taken and offered. My heat
was the sixth, and there were five starters marked.
First came " old Scratch " of Pendleton at 5 9 yards,
then Eoundtree of Huddersfield at 62, and myself
at 67 ; the other didn't turn up. The pistol was
fired and away we went, and, as Locker had started
me hundreds of times, so that I could " get off the
mark " well, I don't think I lost any ground. At
about half way I could hear somebody on my left,
but I daren't look round. Afterwards I found
" Scratch " had tried to " cut me down," but it was
all no use, and I took away the tape by two yards
good. Everybody cheered, for betting on the heat
had been 7 to 4 on " Scratch " and 8 to 2 against
me. At the close of the day there were ten run-
ners left in for the final heat, and " my price " was
4 to 1 , Eoper of Staley bridge being the favourite at
6 to 4 against him. Locker said he had laid off

190 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

£250 at 5 to 1 directly after the heat, so that our
party stood to win £1000 exactly, of which I was
to have £200 if I "lauded." We were together
till bedtime, and slept in a double room. At seveu
next morning we took a stroll, and just as we got
to Alf s to breakfast somebody put a bit of paper
into my hand and then shot away. I slipped it in
my pocket, and said " nowt " till after breakfast,
when I read on it, "£150 for thyself before the
start if thou'U run fourth." I asked Locker what
it meant, and he laughed, and said they wanted me
to " rope." When we went out again the little
fellow pulled out a roll of notes and showed 'em to
me ; but I meant to win if possible, so I shook my
head. As the morning passed I " sort of funked "
the race, but then I thought, " I were a made man
if I copped." So I just said to mysel', " Bill, lad,
haul in the slack," and off we went to the grounds.
I never felt fitter either before or since ; and after
Eoper got off badly and was beat a short foot, I was
sure the final heat was my own. My second heat
was an easy win, and " Lord, how the Sheffielders
did shout " when I ran in three yards ahead without
being fully extended ! They laid 7 to 4 on me for
the deciding race, which was the hardest of the lot.
Hooper of Stanningly went from the same mark ;
we afterwards found out they'd played a similar

HOW I WON MY HANDICAP 191

game with him. They'd " pulled " him for two
handicaps, and let him lose all his matches, and
now he had heen backed to win £600. He beat
me at starting, and before we got half way they
cried " Hooper wins." I was a good yard behind
him, but with a hard strain I got level, and we ran
shoulder and shoulder till just on the tape, where I
threw myself forward, with the old " Chifney rush,"
and just won by a bare half-yard. Locker fairly
hugged me, and, half blind though I was with the
tough race, the " tykes " shoulder -heighted and
carried me off to the house.

In presents, and with my share, I got £230, and
thought I'd put it away in the bank. But that
night we all had champagne, and I went to bed
quite queer and dizzy-like. Next day was the
same, and on Thursday we took train to Manchester,
where I was invited to stop a week or two. Locker
left me and went home, telling me to take care of
myself. I wish I'd gone too, for what with meet-
ing betting-men and playing cards and buying swell
clothes, to say nothing of dresses for a fresh sweet-
heart, I soon got awful " fast." Then we used to
sit up at nights playing " seven's the main," and I
wasn't lucky or summut ; but, however, in six weeks
I'd got through half my money. One night we
started cutting through the pack, and then played

192 HOW I WON MY HANDICAP

" Blind Hookey," and next morning the little pock-
pitted man came up and called me a " flat," and said
I'd fair thrown my winnings into the fire. He
didn't know much about what had gone on, and
when I told him " I knocked down close on £150,"
he said he daren't send me back to Stockton. Well,
I stopped at Manchester altogether ; and during the
next two or three years I won heaps of races,
learned the " rope trick," and found out whose
" stable " every lad trained from. I won hundreds
of pounds, which, having all come over the " devil's
back," went the same way. I'm twenty-three now,
but I can't do " level time " any longer without six
weeks' training, although even yet, at 100 yards,
very few lads can " pull off their shirt " every day
in the week and lick me. I like the life very well
— it's free and easy ; but I wish Locker had ta'en
me back and made my matches. He's clever, he is,
and knows when to " let a fellow's head loose "
without halloaing.

THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON, AND
ITS RESULTS

" When at the close of the departing year
Is heard that joyful sound, the huntsman's cheer,
And wily Reynard with the morning air
Scents from afar the foe, and leaves his lair."

I QUITE agree with the distinguished foreign noble-
man who declared that '' Nothing was too good to
go foxing in ; " and with the immortal Jorrocks
of Handley Cross fame, I exclaim, " 'Unting, my
beloved readers, is the image of war with only ten
per cent, of its dangers."

Ever since I was an imbreeched urchin, and my
only steed a rough Shetland pony, across whose
bare back my infantine legs could scarcely stride, I
have looked forward to a day's hunting with the
keenest relish. The preliminary sport of cub-
hunting — with its early-dawn meets : bad scent,
consequent upon fallen leaves and decayed veget-
able matter ; riotous young hounds, which can
scarcely be brought to hunt upon any terms ; timid,
nervous young foxes, who hardly dare poke their
sharp noses out of covert — only serves to give a

193

194 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

greater zest as it were to the opening day, One or
two woodland runs, just sufficient to breathe the
well-trained hunter or take the exuberant spirits
(the accompaniments of high feeding and no work)
from the young one, after a stripling Eeynard, who
as yet has no line of country of his own, and
hardly dares to venture far from the place of his
birth, ending with a kill just to blood the young
hounds, only makes the longing for the first day of
the season more intense.

Not one of her Majesty's subjects throughout her
vast dominions — so vast indeed are they that,
as the song tells us, " the sun never sets on
them " — not one, I say, of her Majesty's lieges
looked forward more anxiously than I did to the
first day of the hunting season of 18 — , for why
should I be too explicit about dates, or let all the
world know that I am so ancient as to remember
anything so long buried in the past ? I had just
returned to old England with a year's leave from
my regiment, then in India. I was possessed of
capital health and spirits, was only just six-and-
twenty years of age, had five hundred pounds at
my bankers, and two as good nags in my stable as
ever a man laid his le^ across. " Huntins: for
ever ! " I cried, as I strolled into Seamemup and
Bastemwell's, the unrivalled breechesinakers' estab-

AND ITS RESULTS 195

lishment in the Strand, to order a few pair of those
most necessary adjuncts to the sporting man's
wardrobe previous to leaving town. " Hunting for
ever ! " and of all the packs in England, commend
me to my old acquaintance, those friends of my boy-
hood, the Easyallshire Muggers. I am not sure
but that, strictly speaking, the term " mugger "
ought only be applied to those packs of hounds
which are used for that peculiar pastime which, to
again quote the immortal Jorrocks, " is only fit for
cripples, and them as keeps donkeys," viz., harriers.

Be that as it may, the pack I now speak of
were, though called muggers, honcl fide foxhounds,
and as such, only used in the " doing to death " of
that wily animal.

The country which had as it were given birth to
this distinguished pack presented to the hunting
man very much the same features as do most parts
of England. There were the same number of
ditches and dingles to be got over somehow, the
same gates which would and would not be opened,
the same fences, stiles, and heavers to be cleared,
the same woodland parts to be hunted, from which
it was next to impossible to get a fox away, and to
which every one said he would never come again ;
but for all that no one ever kept his word, for there
were just the very same number of sportsmen to be

196 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

seen at the very next meet held in the district ;
thus proving that foxhunting, even under difficulties,
is still a most fascinating diversion ; and there were
the same snug-lying goi^e coverts, from which a
run was sure to be obtained over a flat well-enclosed
country, wliich gave both man and horse as much
as ever their united efforts could accomplish, to
be there or thereabouts at the finish. ISTor were
the meets of the Easyallshire Muggers, adver-
tised in The Field, dissimilar in any respect
to those of other packs of hounds, for there were
an equal number of cross roads, turnpike gates,
public houses, gibbets, woods, sign-posts, and mile-
stones, as elsewhere. Well, to enjoy a season's sport
with this so distinguished hunt was my intention ;
and no sooner had I completed the requisite arrange-
ments with regard to my hunting toggery, which a
residence of some half dozen years in India had ren-
dered necessary, than I took up my abode in the
little town of Surlyford, at the comfortable hotel
rejoicing in the mythological sign of the Silent
Woman, a fabulous personage surely, to be classed
with Swans with Two Necks, Green Men, and other
creatures who never had any existence. The first
meet of the Easyallshire Muggers was settled, so
said the county paper, to take place at the fourth
milestone on the Surlyford road. Thither I re-

AND ITS RESULTS 197

paired, fully equipped in all the splendour of a new
pink, immaculate cords, brown-tinted tops, my blue
birds'-eye scarf, neatly folded and fastened with a
pin bearing a most appropriate device, viz., a real
fox's tooth. In my impatience to be up and doing
on this our opening day, I arrived at the trysting-
place, from whence I was to woo my favourite pas-
time, some half hour or more before the master and
his pack were due. I had, therefore, ample leisure to
receive the greetings of my numerous old friends and
acquaintances, as they came up from all parts, and
in all directions, on all sorts and all sizes of nags,
and at all kinds of paces, to the place of meeting.
First to arrive on that useful steed yclept " Shanks's
pony," slouching along, clad in rusty velveteen,
baggy brown cord breeches and gaiters, billycock, as
he termed his wideawake hat, on head, a stout ashen
stick, cut from a neighbouring coppice, in hand, and
ten to one a quantity of wires in his pockets, was
handsome, dark-eyed, good-for-nothing, scampish, dis-
honest Gipsy Jim — the sometime gamekeeper, when
he could get any to employ him, but oftener the poach-
ing, drinking, thieving vagabond of the neighbour-
hood. A broad grin of recognition, and a touch of
the hat on the part of the Gipsy one, and an
exclamation on mine of " Bless me, Jim ! not hanged
yet ? " placed us once again on the old familiar
I o

198 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

footing of " I will tell you all I know about foxes "
(and who could afford better information than one
whose habits and disposition partook more of the
vermin than the man ?), " providing you give me a
shilling to drink your health." Gipsy Jim and I
had hardly interchanged these civilities, when, trot-
ting along on a stout, handsome, six-year-old, in
capital condition, though, if anything, a little too
fat (not a bad fault, however, at the beginning of
the season), came farmer Thresher, of Beanstead, a
florid, yellow-haired, red-whiskered, jovial, hard-
riding, independent agriculturist, who, on the
strength of having been at school in years gone by
with some of the neighbouring squires, myself
amongst the number, called us all freely by our sur-
naQies, forgetting to prefix the accustomed Mister,
and thus giving great umbrage to some and causing
them always to pointedly address him as " Mr
Thresher." Our mutual salutations had hardly come
to an end when we were joined by half a dozen
more sturdy yeomen, able and willing to go, let the
pace be ever so severe, and all of them contributing
their five pounds yearly to the support of the
Easyallshire Muggers, " spite of wheat, sir, at four-
teen shillings a bag."

Young Boaster next turns up, a swaggering blade
from a neighbouring hunt, who is always abusing

AND ITS RESULTS 199

the Easyallshire hounds, and bragging of his own
prowess, which consists of riding extraordinary dis-
tances to far-off' meets, and doing nothing when he
gets there, save telling wonderful and fabulous
stories of what he had done last time he was out,
and what he intended to do then. He is succeeded
by Dr Bolus, " the sporting Doctor," as he is called,
who must be making a very handsome fortune in
his profession, if his knowledge of medicine is any-
thing like his judgment in horseflesh, his skill in the
pigskin, or his acquaintance with the line of a fox.
After Bolus, on a three-legged screw, a wonder to
every one how it is kept at all on its understandings,
comes Aloes, the veterinary surgeon, a pleasant-
spoken, florid, little old man, skilful in his business,
ever agreeing, with his " That I would, sir," and one
whom I would much prefer to attend me when sick
than many a professor of the healing art among
men. The majesty of the law is upheld next by Mr
Sheepskin, the attorney, a gentlemanly man, a light-
weight, and one who rides, when need be, as hard
as if not harder than any one. Nor is the Church
absent (for we have not a few clerical subscribers
to the Easyallshire Muggers), but is well represented
in the person of the Piev. Mr Flatman, a good-
looking, well-built, foxy-whiskered divine, whose
handling of the ribbons on the coach-box, and seat

200 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

on horseback, would entitle him to a deanery at the
very least, could the Broad-Church party but come
into power. His small country parish, however,
does not suffer by the fondness of its rector for the
sports of the field ; having a hard-working and most
exemplary curate, he is still a painstaking and
estimable parish priest, and much preferred, I doubt
not, by all his parishioners to any more busy and
interfering divine of either of the other two schools
of divinity. I myself am by no means the sole
member of the military profession present, for we
are here of all ranks, from the just-joined subaltern
to the gallant colonel of the county militia, a stout
fine-looking veteran, none of your feather-bed
soldiers, and one w^ho, spite of his w^eight, is an
exceedingly difficult man to beat across country.
" Mammon," as it is the fashion nowadays to call
that useful article, money, is seen approaching in
the person of the Surlyford banker, who, wisely
flindng business to the winds at least twice in the
week, gets astride a good-looking, nearly thorough-
bred nag, and finds accepting bullfinches, negotiating
ditches, and discounting gates, stiles, &c., a much
more healthy and more pleasant, if not more pro-
fitable, occupation than everlastingly grubbing after
filthy lucre.

The Master now makes his appearance, tall and

AND ITS RESULTS 201

upright, knowing thoroughly the duties of his office,
and if not quite so bold and determined a rider as
in years gone by, still making up for want of nerve
in knowledge of the country, and for lack of dash
in careful riding and judicious nicking-in. Suffice
it to say, that at the finish, his absence is never
observed, though how he came to be there is better
known to the second-rank horsemen than to the
flyers. The huntsman and whip are much the same
as those worthies are everywhere ; but the hounds,
how to describe them I know not.

The Easyallshire Muggers set all rules regarding
the make, size, and symmetry of foxhounds at
defiance. They show almost better sport, and kill
more foxes, than any pack in the kingdom ; and
yet they are as uneven as a ploughed field, and as
many shapes and sizes as a charity school. I can
only say, " handsome is as handsome does ; " and
if my canine friends are not pleasant to the eye
of the connoisseur — if they come not up to the
standard of Beckford Somerville, and other writers
who have described a perfect foxhound, still they
work beautifully — which to my mind is far pre-
ferable to looking beautiful — and will run and
kill foxes with any hounds in England. The
huntsman and whip, though not so well mounted
(economy is the order of the day with the Easy-

202 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

allshire Muggers) as we would wish to see them,
yet manage somehow to get across the country,
and to be with their hounds ; though for the
matter of that, such is the sagacity of the Easy-
allshire pack, they can very frequently do quite as
well without the assistance of their ruler and guide
as with it. The Easyallshire Hunt, as the name
implies, is an easy-going sort of concern, in which
every man, gentle and simple, has a finger in the
pie ; every subscriber imagining tliat he has a perfect
right, on the strength of his subscription, to hunt,
whip-in, or otherwise direct the movements of the
hounds whenever opportunity occurs. But for-rard !
for-rard on 1 or I shall be at the fourth milestone on
the Surlyford road all day, instead of drawing that
inviting piece of gorse covert which lies so pleasant
and warm, with its southern aspect on yonder bank.
A guinea to a gooseberry, a fox lies there 1

Joe, the huntsman, now trots along through the
somewhat bare and brown pasture fields towards the
covert ; the pack, eager and keen for the fray,
clustering round the heels of his horse. A few
moments only elapse, and the sea of gorse is alive
with hounds poking here, there, and everywhere,
seeking the lair of sly Reynard. Old experience
having taught me tliat Gipsy Jim's knowledge of
the fox and his habits (for being half-brotlier to tlie

AXD ITS RESULTS 203

varmint in his nature, how can it fail to be other-
wise ?) would serve me in good stead, I station
myself near to him in order to have a good view of
" Mr Eeynolds/' as Jim calls the cunning animal,
when he breaks covert. Xor am I wrong in my con-
jecture ; for after a few pleasant notes from old
Bellman, who hits upon the place where Master Fox
crossed a ride early this morning, and a " hark to
Bellman " from Joe the huntsman, out jumps,
almost into Jim's arms, as fine a fox as ever wore a
brush. Master Reynard looks somewhat astonished
at being brought so suddenly face to face with a
two-legged monster, and seems half inclined to turn
back again to his hiding-place ; but, perhaps judging
from Jim's varmint look that no danger might be
apprehended from that quarter, and being warned
by the deep notes of old Bellman that his late
quarters were untenable, he throws back his head
as if to sniff the pleasant morning breeze, and giving
his brush a gentle wave of defiance, boldly takes to
the open, and starts across the field which surrounds
the covert at a good rattling pace. Gipsy Jim grins
from ear to ear with delight, showing his white
regular teeth, at the same time holding up his hand
as a warning to me to keep silence for a few seconds,
so as not to spoil sport by getting the fox headed
back. The moment, however, Master Eeynard is

204 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

safely through the neighbouring hedge, Jim's tremen-
dous view-halloa makes the whole country ring again.
This is the signal for every bumpkin and footman to
shout and halloa with might and main, thus making
the necessary confusion of the find worse confounded
still. '' Hold your noisy tongues," shout the Master,
huntsman, whip, and all the horsemen ; but " Hold
your noisy tongues " they cry in vain. " Tallyho !
tallyho ! tallyho ! " yell the footmen, totally regard-
less of all expostulation. But crafty Jim, knowing
the idiosyncrasy of the yokels, has made all safe by
his silence, until the red-coated rascal is well away.
" Hark ! halloa ! " " Hark ! halloa ! " roar the
field. " Tootle, tootle ! " goes Joe's hoirn, reechoed
by an asthmatical effort in the same direction, on
the part of the worthy master, who blows as if his
horn was full of dirt. The hounds, however, are
accustomed to the sound, feeble as it is, and all rush
to the spot where Master, huntsman, and Gipsy Jim
are all cheering them exactly at the place where
foxy broke away. What a burst of music now"
strikes upon the ear, far superior to the delights of
any concert it has ever been my lot to be present at,
as the hounds acknowledge with joy the rapture
they feel at the strong scent left behind by liim they
had so unceremoniously disturbed from his comfort-
able lodgings ! But the scent is too good for us to

AND ITS RESULTS 205

dwell here for description, and away they go at a
killing pace, which, if it lasts long enough, will get
to the bottom of many a gallant steed there present.
And now comes the rush of horsemen amidst the
cries of " Hold hard ! don't spoil your sport ! " of
the master, and the " 'Old 'ard ! " of the huntsman,
who has an eye to tips, and therefore restrains his
wrath in some measure. But the Easyallshireans
are not to be kept back by any such remonstrances
and expostulations as these, and those who mean to
be with the hounds throughout the run, hustle along
to get a forward place ; whilst the knowing and
cunnino- ones, with the Master at their head, turn
short round, and make for a line of gates which lie
invitingly open, right in the direction which the fox
has taken. I get a good start, and being well
mounted, sail away, and am soon alongside of Joe
the huntsman, whose horse, though a screw, and
not very high in condition, is obliged to go, being
compelled thereto by its rider. A stiff-looking
fence, which I charge at the same moment as Joe,
who takes away at least a perch of fencing, and
thus lets many a muff through, lands us into the
next field, and affords a fair view of the hounds
streaming aw^ay a little distance before us. But
why should I describe the run ? The Field, weekly,
gives much more graphic descriptions of such things

206 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

than I am able to write ; let me, therefore, con-
fine my narrative to what befell my individual self.
A rattling burst of twenty minutes rendered the
field, as may be well imagined, very select, and it
would in all probability have become still more so,
had not a fortunate check given horses and men a
few moments' breathing time, thus enabling the
cunning riders to get up to the hounds. " Away
we go again, and I will be there at the finish," I
exclaimed, as pressing my cap firmly on my head,
and shutting my eyes, I ride at a tremendous bull-
finch, the thick boughs and sharp thorns of which
scratch my face all over and nearly decapitate me
as I burst through it. But, as in the case of the
renowned John Gilpin, it is —

" All, luckless speech and bootless boast,
For which I paid full dear."

Another ten minutes' best pace and the fox is
evidently sinking before us ; but, alas ! it was not
to be my lot to see the gallant animal run into and
pulled down in the open, after as fine a run as was
ever seen. Trim-kept hedges, well-hung, stout, and
newly-painted white gates, had shown me that for
the last few moments, lie had entered the domain
of some proprietor, whose estate certainly presented
the very pink of neatness. Little indeed did I

AND ITS RESULTS 207

dream that there would exist in the very heart of
Easyallshire one so benighted as to object to the
inroads made upon him by that renowned pack, the
Muggers. But I reckoned without my host, or
rather, as the sequel will show, with my host ; for
as, in my endeavours to save my now somewhat
exhausted liorse, I rode at what appeared an easy
place in a very high fence, bounded on the off-side
with a stiff post and rail, an irate elderly gentleman,
gesticulating, shouting, and waving an umbrella in
his hand, suddenly rose up as it were from the very
bowels of the earth, just as my steed was preparing
to make his spring, thus causing the spirited animal
to rear up, and, overbalancing himself, to fall
heavily to the ground with me under him. When
I next recovered consciousness and opened my eyes,
I was beinc^ borne alono- on a hurdle, by the author of
my misfortunes — a gray-haired, piebald-whiskered,
stout, little, red-faced old gentleman — and two of
his satellites, whom I rightly conjectured to be the
coachman and gardener ; but the pain of my broken
leg made me relapse into unconsciousness, nor did
the few wits I by nature possess return to me again
until I was laid on a bed, and a medical practitioner
of the neighbourhood was busy at work setting my
fractured limb. To make a long story short, I
remained under the roof of Major Pipeclay — for

208 THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON

that was the name of the irascible little gentleman
whose hatred of hunting, hounds, and horses had
caused my suffering — until my wounded limb was
well again, the worthy old major doing all in his
power to make amends for the catastrophe his
absurd violence had brought about.

At the expiration of six weeks I was able to
move about on crutches ; at the termination of twice
that period, I was well again, and had, moreover,
fallen irretrievably in love with the bright eyes and
pretty face of Belinda Pipeclay, one of the major's
handsome daughters. Thinking, in my ignorance
of the fair sex, that the child of so irascible a papa
• — having been in her juvenile days well tutored
under the Solomonian code of " sparing the rod, and
spoiling the child" — must therefore, of necessity,
make a submissive and obedient wife, I proposed,
was accepted, obtained the major's consent, and
became a Benedict.

Dear reader, I am really ashamed to confess the
truth : I have been severely henpecked ever since.
Whether Belinda possesses the same antipathy to
hounds, horses, and hunting men as her progenitor,
I cannot possibly tell ; for returning to India soon
after my marriage, I had no opportunity of there
testing her feelings in that respect. Now the in-
creasing number of mouths in our nursery compels

AND ITS RESULTS 209

a decreasing ratio of animals in my stable, and I
am reduced to one old broken-winded cripple, which
I call " the Machiner." He takes Mrs Sabretache
and myself to the market town on a Saturday, and
mamma, papa, and the little Sabretaches to church
on the following day.

A DAY AVITH THE DEAG

BY THE EDITOR

To my mind there are few more pleasant ways of
spending an afternoon, than in having a good rousing
gallop with the Drag. Of course there be Drag-hunts
and Drag-hunts, and unless the sport is conducted
smartly and well, 'twere better far that it should
not be done at all. The hounds need not be bred
from the Beaufort Justice, but on the other hand,
they need not be a set of skulking, skirting brutes,
that one " wouldn't be seen dead with." Of course
the members of such hunts ride in mufti — more fami-
liarly called, in these degenerate days, " ratcatcher "
— but I always think that Huntsman and Whips
should be excepted from this rule, and anyone who
is privileged to share the fun of the Royal Artillery
Draghounds will find that the high officials of the
hunt are arrayed, not certes, as was Solomon in all
his glory, but in the very neatest and smartest of
" livery," and nothing could look more sportsmanlike
than the dark-blue coat, red collar and cuffs, sur-

A DAY WITH THE DRAG 211

mounted by the orthodox black velvet hunting-cap,
which are de rigeur at Woolwich now. When
I first joined in their cheery gallops, there was no
hunt uniform, and the appearance of the " turn out "
suffered accordingly. Now, nothing is left to be
desired in this direction. Good fellowship in the
field we have always had, and does not this go far
indeed to make up the sum of one's enjoyment ?
When every man out, almost without exception,
knows the rest of the field personally ; when a
kindly hand is always ready to be stretched forth
to aid a brother in distress — when you know every
man well enough to say " mind you don't jump on
me, old chap, if this ' hairy ' comes base over apex
at the next fence ! " or, " Let me have that place
first ; I can't hold this beggar ! " things all seem so
much pleasanter than they are in a country where
you know few people, and don't know them very
well : yes, sociability, depend upon it, goes very far
indeed to make up the charm of any sport, and in
none more so than in that of crossing a country.

Let us imagine ourselves arrived at Woolwich
and " done well " at luncheon in the E.A. mess.
And here I would observe, par parenthcse, that
it would require a big effort of imagination to
picture to yourself any occasion upon which you
were not " done well " within those hospitable

212 A DAY WITH THE DRAG

portals. About 2.30 when we are half way through
that cigar in the ante-room, which alone '' saves
one's life " after such a luncheon, a crack of the
whip, and a " gently there, Waterloo ! " brings us
quickly to the window overlooking the parade
ground, where hounds have just arrived in charge
of the Master and two Whips. We hurry out, after
a farewell to such of our kindly hosts as are not
intending to accompany us, and find that that big-
boned black horse with a hog mane, is intended to
carry " Caesar and his fortunes " this afternoon. A
right good one he is, too, with a perfect snaffle
mouth. He is " not so young as he was," but
" sweet are the uses of adversity," and this fact has
its advantages, as he will not fret and worry, and
pull one's arms off before starting : he has " joined
the band," which is also an excellent thing in its way,
because the man just ahead of you can hear him
coming, and will, you hope, get out of the way at
the next fence ! After a short period of moving
up and down the parade ground, and exchanging
greetings with a few whom you have not had a
chance of speaking to before, the word is given,
and at that indescribable and, to me, most direful
pace, a " hound's jog," off we go along the road
over the Common.

How the bricks and mortar fiend has been work-

A DAY WITH THE DRAG 213

ing his wicked will with the place since last we
saw it ! The trots out to the several meets set
longer and longer as season after season rolls by.
What was once almost our best line, and where for
two or three years the annual point-to-point race was
held, is now an unwieldy mass of buildings, pro-
minent amongst which stands that gigantic fraud on
the long-suffering ratepayers, the Fever Hospital,
with its staff of 350 to wait on a maximum of 450
patients !

At last we emerge from the region of building
and railway " enterprise" (save the mark !) and see
glimpses of the country ahead of us. A winding
lane traversed, and we find a gate propped open on
our left : here a halt is called. The Master rides
into the field, whilst the Whips remain where they
are in charge of the pack. Two minutes later our
worthy chief returns and addresses the assembled
company, not in the studied beauty of language
employed by Cicero, nor in the perfervid oratory of
Demosthenes, but in a manner very much more to
the point than most of the harangues of those some-
what long-winded classics. " Let 'em get over the
first fence : then you can ride like blazes ! " he
says.

The Whips move forward gently : hounds are all
bristling with excitement, for they seem to know as

214 A DAY WITH THE DRAG

well as we that the moment for action has arrived.
" Gently there, Safety ! have a care, then ! " Yow,
yow, yow ! from the hounds. Toot, toot, from the
Master's horn, and away they go. " Do wait, you

dev fellows ! You'll be bang into the middle

of 'em ! There, now, you can go and be blessed to
you ! " Amid a confused rush of horses, clatter of
hoofs, and babel of tongues, we are away, and thun-
dering down to the first fence, a big quickset. AVith
a crash the first Whip is over or through ; it doesn't
matter which so long as he finds himself " all
standing" on the right side. Half-a-dozen men
make for the same place and great is the thrust-
ing thereunto. The first and second get over :
the third man falls : the next alights almost on
top of him : now comes a gallant " just joined "
one, who does not jump when his horse does,
and then that first fence becomes of no further
interest to us, for are we not over it, and speeding
along at our best sprinting pace towards a line of
post and rails, where, the Powers be praised ! there
is plenty of room for the whole field to have it
abreast, if they wished. Two refuse at this : it is
a pretty big one, and worse still the timber is oieiu :
but the next comer smashes the top rail and lets
everyone through : then for three or four fields all
is plain sailing — brush fences that our steeds

A DAY WITH THE DRAG 215

almost gallop through, form the only obstacles.
We jump into a park, and " Ware hole ! " is the
cry : we pull off to the right of where hounds are
running in order to avoid the home of the ubiqui-
tous bunny, but not soon enough, unluckily, to save
one youngster from a tumble : the horse puts his
foot in a rabbit hole and rolls over as if he is shot.
" Not hurt a bit ! Go on," calls out the rider,
pluckily. Yes, no doubt about it, this is the game
for the making of young soldiers. On we go, now
descending a geutle slope to where an ominous
little crowd of yokels and loafers are lining a
narrow strip of green on each side : a second glance,
as we rise in our stirrups for inspection purposes,
shows us that this is evidently looked upon as the
sensation '* lep " of the run : a good sized brook, in
front of which have been placed some stout, well
furze-bushed hurdles. The scent has been thought-
fully laid a little on one side of this, so there is no
fear of stray hounds getting in one's way. One
look shows us that it will take a bit of doing, and
hats are crammed on, and horses "taken by the
head " in earnest, as the three leading men come
along at it. A quick glance round and a lightning
calculation as to where you'll go to, shoiild your
neighbour whip round or fall just in front of you,
and then a vigorous hoist over the hurdles carries

216 A DAY WITH THE DRAG

you just clear — and no more than just clear — of
the frowning and muddy stream just beyond. The
man on your left gets over also, but with one
hind leg dropped in : three come slashing over,
all right: then little Miff kins, in an agony of
incertitude, takes a pull at his horse when within
three lengths of where he should take off. Fatal
mistake ! for he merely succeeds in putting the
break on : the horse jumps short, and just
clearing the hurdles drops helplessly into the
turbid stream amid the ribald jeers and laughter
of the crowd assembled. Baulked by this contre-
tem]js the next horse refuses, and though ridden at
the obstacle again and again, resolutely persists in
remaining on the wrong side of the water. But
" forrard on, forrard on ! " Miffkins will get dry
again — he is not hurt, in the least — and his horse
will be taught an invaluable lesson in swimming.
The pack is still racing away half a field ahead, but
they are beginning to " string " a good deal now,
from the severity of the pace. And by the same
token, most of our good nags are obviously feeling
that this sort of fun can't go on for ever. My own
musical steed is, in especial, making the most
appalling observations on the subject as we breast
the next sharp slope. I feel, somehow, that he is
using the equinese for " Hang it all, you know, I'm

A DAY WITH THE DRAG 217

not a steam roundabout, my dear chap ! " and my
heart smites me. Before, however, I can make up my
wavermg mind as to whether conscience imperatively
demands of me " a pull," or not, to my great joy,
hounds suddenly throw up their heads where the
drag has evidently been lifted, and we find ourselves
at the ever welcome check. Most of us slip off our
smoking steeds, whose shaking tails and sweat-
lathered coats attest the rate at which these three
miles have been covered. By twos and threes, the
stragglers, and those whose luck is " out," arrive.
One man has broken the cantle of his saddle, another
has managed to pull his horse's bridle off in the
floundering of a fall : here is a rider whose spur has
been dragged off his boot : there one who has
broken his girths : two men are hatless and another
has lost his cigarette case, presumably whilst stand-
ing on his head after trying unsuccessfully to
negotiate a stile without jumping it. However, these
are but common incidents of the chase, and " all in
the day's work." The troubles are taken good
humouredly, and in the true spirit of philosophy.
The men who have second horses out, have now
mounted them, whilst the rest of us who intend
ridin" the concluding half of the line, resume
acquaintance with our splashed saddles and mud-
stained steeds. Trotting off across a road, we again

218 A DAY WITH THE DRAG

lay on, and have a gallop of quite five hundred
.yards before coming to anything in the way of an
obstacle. Over a piece of timber, to the tune of a
most unholy cracking of top rails, we go, and soon
find ourselves approaching the far boundary which
offers us the choice of a blind, hairy place, with a
big ditch on the far side, a gate securely nailed
up, and a greasy- looking foot-bridge adorned with
several dangerous-looking holes. This last we all —
as I think, wisely — eschew. Some make for the
gate : the rest of us try the first-named place. One
of the whips goes at it " hell for leather," and gets
over. I, following him, I blush to say, rather —
just a very little — too closely, utter a silent prayer
that my leader may not fall, and somewhat to my
astonishment feel " the musician " apparently dis-
appearing into the bowels of the earth beneath me
whilst I shoot over his head and sprawl, spread-
eagled, on my hands and face into the ploughed
field beyond. He has jumped short and paid the
penalty by dropping into the ditch. I shout back
" No " to a kindly enquiry as to whether I am hurt,
and the questioner gallops on, leaving me to wrestle
with the problem of how I am to extract the
hog-maned one from his present retreat. As I
take him Ijy the rein and wonder how deeply his
hind legs are imbedded in the sticky clay, he makes

A DAY WITH THE DRAG 219

a wild flounder, plunges up the bank, rams his big,
bony head into my chest and causes me to take up
a most undignified position, for nothing can look
much more aimless than to see the ardent sportsman
attired in boots and breeches, seated involuntarily
in the wet furrow of a ploughed field, his horse
standing over him in an apparently menacing
attitude. However, although I felt damped — and
was — the animal was out of what might have been
" a tight place," and I climbed into the saddle again
with muddy breeches, but a cheerful heart. To
catch hounds after this was, of course, out of the
question, but I jogged slowly across the field I was
in, and felt, I humbly confess, a thrill of unholy
joy, as from the farther side of the thick hedge
there, I heard a plaintive voice saying :

" Come through the gap and give us a hand, old
fellow ; I've come down, busted both girths and a
stirrup leather, lost my curb chain and split my
br — waistcoat ! "

I was happy again. I had a companion in
misfortune, and, better still, one in sorrier plight
than my own. By the time we had (as far as a
piece of string, two torn handkerchiefs and a neck-
tie, the thongs of both hunting crops, and a pair of
braces w^ould allow) repaired damages, lighted and
smoked a couple of cigars, and talked the day's

220 A DAY WITH THE DRAG

doings over as we rode back to the cheery lights
shining from the barrack windows, I for one felt
just as happy as if I had managed to live through
the whole, instead of only part, of that invigorating
gallop with the Woolwich Drag.

STAG-HUNTIXa ON EXMOOR

We sons of Devon are, I doubt not, too prone to
dwell and enlarge upon the fact that we are not
quite as other men, that w^hen all things were made
none was made better than this, our land of sunny
skies and mystic moors, of lane and hedgerow,
of sea and river, where the balmy fragrance of
Torbay invites the winter, and the chill grandeur of
Exmoor repels the summer's heat; with goodness
overflowing from Porlock to Penzance ; the home of
traditions and folkspeech that mark us out a people
meet to enjoy the wholesomest clime under the
canopy of heaven.

I say we are too apt to allow these matters to
weigh with us, and breed a smiling contentment
and ease of living perhaps not good for those who
shall come after us — for those who may be forced
to quit their native soil and sojourn among aliens
of sharper wits and noisier mode of life. Soft as a
Dartmoor bog the South Devon man has been
found by those of northern blood, who in mean
ways despoil him. Yet if history doth not lie.

222 STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR

there have been sundry occasions when, for stout-
ness of heart and a kind of obstinacy of courage,
the men of the west of England had no need to
suffer by comparison with any. To many of us
now, alas, the home of our fathers, the haunts of
our boyhood, are no longer daily present ; but
the exile's memory is strong and vivid, and, aided
as is natural by not infrequent visits to them,
yields abundant pleasure in the contemplation of
spots hallowed to us by fond associations, the
tombs of our sires, the scenes of early passion, and
perhaps above all, to him of man's estate, the otter
bank and Exmoor.

Stronger than death, more lasting than love of
woman, is the passion for the chase, and of all
those who ride to hounds, the hunter of the wild
deer of Devon must surely bear the palm for all the
qualities that go to make up the sportsman ; and as
I have been challenged to show that this at least is
no empty boast, nor figment of the brain, I proceed
to tell, for all but those who know it better than
I, how the men of Devon hunt the wild red deer.

It was ordained that I should be the first of my
race born out of Devon, and there was perhaps
allotted to me lacking that birthright a keener
relish for all that Devon yields, so that a certain
home-sickness will often befall me, which that

STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR 223

sweet air and homely speech and hospitable fare only
may cure. It is then I go west, go where merrie
England is merrie England still, remote from stir
and traffic of modern life, forgotten of civilization
and the so-called march of mind. Cathay within
three hundred miles of Paddington Station !

Not many years ago there came over me the
old longing. As summer merged into autumn it
got into my blood and there being no help for it,
ere September waned I packed my bag and set
out for Exmoor. There, descendants of the tall
deer whom the Conqueror " loved as if he were
their father," were to be found in plenty, hunted
with horn and hound, captured and slain.

As much in the spirit of the pilgrim as of the
sportsman, I made my way to where the river Exe
and its bio- brother Barle have union. To Dul-

o

verton I fared, even as John Eidd had fared two
hundred years before, and as I crossed the threshold
of the Eed Lion, recalled John Fry's striding into
the hostel, " with the air and grace of a short-
legged man, and shouting as loud as if he were
calling sheep upon Exmoor."

" Hot mootton pasty for twoo trarv'lers, at
number vaive, in vaive minnits ! Dish un up in the
tin with the grahvy, zame as I hardered last Tuesday."

In these days Uulverton may be said to exist

224 STAG -HUNTING ON EXMOOR

for one purpose only, that of hunting the stag —
with perhaps a little fisliing thrown in. The oldest
inhabitant will meet you upon the bridge, and with
true Devonshire garrulity discourse of stag. Saunter-
ing alongside you the length of its single street, he
will point out the abode of the tailor (who makes
hunting garments), of the cobbler (who makes riding
boots). A saddler's shop is almost an appanage of
the inn under whose portico, on the day of my
arrival, a fuming sportsman and a well " done "
horse were eloquent of stag. In the town there
was suppressed excitement, and what passes in those
parts for bustle and stir. The traffic had a way of
suddenly disappearing down an alley which led to
the banks of the Barle, and so to Exford. Needless
to say, the attraction at Exford was Mr Bisset's
kennels, nor would any peace or comfort reign in
Dulverton until such time as news should arrive
of the find and the kill.

That evening we sat in the stone-floored parlour
of the inn and drank cider out of blue pint mugs
— no true son of Devon drinks from a tumbler —
and by my side was the warped old man who
had weathered eighty Exmoor winters, and who
told of the season of bitter frost when the red
deer would come by the score of a morning to the
farmers' ricks of corn and hay and clover, and some

STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR 225

of them so tame that they would present themselves
at the back door for a drink of water.

On the followmg day, things had quieted down.
The staghounds were in kennel ; and although the
Exmoor foxhounds met in the neighbourhood for
cub-hunting, heedless people went their way and
took no notice of a pursuit only distantly connected
with stag.

At last the eventful or stag-hunting day is ushered
in, and as usual one's preparations are discovered at
the last moment to be incomplete. A refractory
boot causes delay and consequent anguish to
a small party who have to travel with me on
wheels from Dulverton to the meet at Yenniford
Cross ; for eighteen Devonshire miles are before us,
and it is conceivable that the day would have
ended before our journey, had our coachman been
other than a native Jehu. A man must live in the
west of England to get used to driving horses at
a hand-gallop up and down hills of which the
gradient is sometimes less than 1 in 4 and some-
times more. And so we go on, our driver singing —

" When the ^A-ind whistles cold on tke moors of a night,
All along, down along, out along lee,
Tom Pearce's ould mare doth appear gashly white,
Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Slewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy,

Dan'l Whiddon, Harry Hawke ;
Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all, old Uncle Tom Cobleigh

and a— a — 11."

226 STAG- HUN TING ON EXMOOR

At noon we reach Yenniforcl Cross and find our
horses who were sent on yesterday, little short-
legged animals with perfect shoulders and forelegs
of iron ; as well they may have, to climb almost per-
pendicular hills and gallop over the rugged Devonian
slate country, which attains its greatest elevation
on Exmoor. The stream of traffic was enormous,
or so it seemed in those unfrequented parts. The
countryside was agog, and for twenty miles round
few Devonians able to sit a liorse can have been
absent from the meet. Here leaked out a change
of venue : it had been determined to draw the
sorse and the combes which seam the side of
Dunkery, and so for some miles we jogged on by
road, sometimes at a walk, often at a fast trot, but
always ascending higher and higher. We seemed
to be climbing heights of stupendous proportions.

Cloutsham is at length reached, and on the
plateau assembled the sort of " field " that Devon
and Somerset turn out w^hen the staghounds are
afoot. There are the sporting farmer, a doctor or
two, boys on ponies, parsons on cobs, strangers
from London, neighbours from South Devon, the
master of Pixton and other " county " people, and
of course every hunting lady of the district, not all
of whom use the side saddle ! Among tliis goodly
company hardly one is there wliose thoughts and

STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR 227

anxieties are not centred on the chase — the chase
stripped of polish and luxury, the chase divorced
from good cheer and even from opportunities for
vain display. The instinct and passion of the
hunter possesses them all.

We have all come long journeys and have perhaps
many hours to remain in the saddle ; and now is
the time to ease our horses. The field dismounts,
and booted ladies are seen seated by the roadside,
or seeking refreshment of milk and bread and clotted
cream at an adjacent farmhouse. While the "tufters"
are drawing, we look round again and inly rejoice
that Exmoor is still a vast wild tract hardly
civilised. Around it Brendon common lies unen-
closed, and the miles from Alderman's Barrow to the
east of Dunkery are unbroken by a fence. We are
told of rare birds and beasts to be seen there along
with the red deer which have had a home in Exmoor
from time immemorial ; polecats are found, though
now somewhat rarely ; the Montagu's liarrier is
occasionally seen ; a snowy owl was shot some few
years back, and only two years ago a pelican was
found walking about on the North Forest if the
story of a Somersetshire farmer may be believed.
The stag-hunting country is a matter of six and
thirty miles, which often the tireless hounds will
cross from end to end after their quarry.

228 STAG -HUNTING ON EXMOOR

Surely the most important, interesting, and
difficult part of the chase of the wild deer is
the " harbouring," as it is called. How fine an
exercise of woodcraft ! The harbourer's best guide
is the slot, or footprint of the deer, which, to the
experienced eye, tells whether the deer afoot be
stag or hind, and whether of proper age to hunt
and kill. Four or five hours are often spent by
the most skilful harbourer in tracking a warrant-
able stag to his lair. The deer duly harboured,
the next thing is to rouse him, and force him to
break cover and run for dear life. Selected hounds
called " tufters " are laid on the drag, and master,
huntsman, whip and harbourer, post themselves
where they will be able to stop the hounds after
this purpose is served.

Looking across the declivity in front of us, we
see the wooded slopes where a stag has been
harboured. The scarlet jackets of huntsman and
whips move about in the distance, directing the
tufters by horn and voice. " There he goes, sir,"
at length cries a schoolboy on his pony, whose
sharp eyes have detected the graceful bound of a
deer ; but it is a hind, and the schoolboy is told
that, although hinds are hunted later on, the present
is a close time for them, and that our jolly company
of sportsmen and ladies will not ride to hounds this

STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR 229

day unless a warrantable stag be found. Our
" harboured " stag had evidently wandered on.

Let us leave the field to indulge in that gossip
for which Devonians are famous, and follow at a
respectful distance the tufters now moving across
Cloutsham Ball to Ten Acre Cleeve. We of course
find it necessary almost immediately to negotiate a
combe, that is, to descend the sides of one of those
deep ravines with which Exmoor abounds. We
yield the reins and see our horse's head disappear
between our knees, his croup rises to our neck, and
so we slip, shuffle, and slide down the precipitous
pathway. In the bottom of the combe, we meet
the tufters returning ; they have roused their stag,
and now rejoin the pack. Jogging forward, we see
a noble beast of chase, large as an eastern donkey,
the antlered monarch of Exmoor, trotting in a
leisurely way, and evidently making for Holm Wood.

Jumping the fence into the fields by Bucket Hole,
our stag has met a woman and two children, who
flourished a pink apron at him, so he has turned
back, showing how easily sometimes a stag may be
headed if he has formed no definite plan as to where
he will go ; within five minutes we were to see how
hopeless a task it is to head a stag when he is
determined to make his point. Crossing the combe
towards us, the stag came up to the edge of the
I Q

230 STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR

bushes and coasted along the side, while we rode
along the heather on the ridge, in the vain hope
that we could keep him out of the Porlock Coverts.
Just by Whitestones he turned up, and, undismayed
by the shouting and smacking of whips, trotted up
to our horses. Eiding at him was no good ; a
sudden stop with lowered antlers — all his rights
and three on top both sides — a bound to one side
or another, and he is behind you, and perfectly
ready to encounter the next one ; horses, too, will
not go near a stag if they can help it.

Although we did all we knew to turn him, I do
not think we forced him fifty yards from the course
he would have taken had he been left to himself.
Andrew Miles always declared that there was only
one way to turn a stag, and it would have required
an exceedingly well-drilled field, proof against the
temptation to look at the stag, to carry out his
plan. " Get right in front of the stag," Miles
would say, " and ride as hard as you can go for
the point to which he is making ; he will dodge
round you if you ride at him, but he will not
deliberately follow you."

But now our stag, with an air of insulted majesty,
turns his back upon us and sets out for his long
last journey. He must rouse himself, for the soul-
stirring notes of the hounds float towards us. The

STAG-HUNTIXG ON EXxMOOR 231

pack is at length laid on, the sweet scent fills the
big hounds with delirious joy, and in long drawn
file they race forward, and the chase begins.

We had a nice gallop over Skilgate Common and
down a steep, root -grown slope, through the Bitts-
combe plantations. The stag turned down the
valley to Eaddington. Despite the blazing sun and
intense heat, hounds ran fast, but Devonia's wilds
are not everywhere to be invaded, and here the
sobbing horses must pound along the road, while
the hounds turn up over a grass field as steep as
the side of a house ; some riders indeed climbed
up, some cast forward, others like myself cast back
towards Skilgate, on the chance of the stag swing-
ing round towards Haddon again ; but we were
wrong, as he went straight over the top, past Hove
and Quarterly, into the Exe valley by Morebath,
running through several little coverts. From this
point I was beaten out of my country and hardly
know how to tell of our wanderings.

The stag worked the line of a brook past Shilling-
ford as far as Hockley bridge where he soiled, but
the eager hounds gave little respite, and our new-
found stag went away up a little valley to the left.
Hounds ran on fast, keeping about a hundred yards
from the lane, which helped us to get along, for
Devonshire banks with the leaves on cannot be

232 STAG-HUNTING ON EXAIOOR

ridden over in September. The heat and dust were
something to be remembered, but hounds pushed on,
hovering a minute where bullocks had been over
the line, and again where a mare and foal charged
them in a most determined manner doing, luckily,
no harm. Huntsham seemed to be the point, a
good old-fashioned line often travelled by deer
fifty years ago, but most unusual now.

Leaving Huntsham on the right, we went on by
Cudmore to Hole Lake, hounds running on grass,
horses again pounding along the road. !N'ow we
turn into the fields and gallop alongside the pack,
which kept on in most determined manner, and
with more music than is nsually given on so hot
a day. We soon got into a maze of small combes
running down to the brook which passes under
Huntsham Wood. From gate to gate, and gap to
gap we liie, keeping as near hounds as may be,
and passed a farm which I was told is Eedwood.
A patch of ferny gorse-covered ground is Bere
Down, across which hounds ran fast, much dis-
turbing a pony at grass, who jumped the fence
down the biggest drop I ever saw anything except
a deer come over in safety. The stag went down
the line of the brook till its junction with the
bigger Loman Water near Chief Loman. Here a
long check refreshed us, the stag liaving worked

STAG -HUNTING ON EXMOOR 233

first the road and then the water for a long dis-
tance. Tlie pack puzzled it out slowly, both
Anthony and Col. Hornby dismounting to keep
close to them through the impassable places. Then
we heard a holloa ahead, and hounds were lifted
about a quarter of a mile to Land's Mill, when
they hit off the line, just owning it down the road,
and so recall us to the chase.

The field seemed hardly to diminish, though it
kept changing ; many of those from the Minehead
and Dunster side stopped and went home, but every
hamlet, every farm we passed, brought out recruits
eager to see the hounds, for they do not often come
this way. The whole country was in a wild state
of commotion and excitement. A capital gallop
over a ridge of hills, where the chase went through
a field of roots, which some gentlemen were
just beginning to shoot over (and much I fear we
spoiled their sport), brought us to the Western
Canal, where the stag swam over, while we crossed
by a bridge, and went on again to the Halberton
lane. In the field beyond, sheep had foiled the
ground, but hounds cast forward, and were soon
running again down to the canal, which here "ran
a ring." Hounds feathered down the towing-path
and over the railway, where we had to make a
d^toicr. We had just rejoined them when there

234 STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR

was a burst of music, and the stag was seen
swimming in the canal. He scrambled out, ran
down the road a few hundred yards with the
pack at his heels, and then jumped over the fence
into ploughed ground, where he fell, and was rolled
over a moment afterwards, when he was found to
have a broken leg. The fatal stab to the heart
was dealt as soon as our stag was taken, and now
the hounds must be given their portion. " Look at
that ! " exclaims a sporting farmer as the body is
turned over and the legs are seen standing stark
and stiff in the air. " Ay, properly runned up, poor
thing," answers the huntsman, who is busy anato-
mising. " Brasher, bother your old head, you'm
always after the venison." And Brusher, who has
stolen forward and began licking the haunch, beats
a hasty retreat, not without a taste of whipcord.
Then the hounds' portion is made over to them, the
huntsman reserves his perquisites, and the head
being claimed by the Master, all the farmers of tlie
district account for the venison share and share
alike. The run lasted exactly seven hours from
the lay on ; the last liour and a-lialf we hunted
in the dark. Eight only of us saw the finish.

And now looking over my record of this memor-
able run how bare an itinerary it seems, lacking
the mental eye to fill up the scene with luscious

STAG-HUNTING ON EXMOOR 235

autumn tints, and lacking too the stir and move-
ment of the chase. Then the blood boils in veins
of horse and man, then a fierce energy urges on
the pursuers. What can compare with it, but
the wild charge of cavalry ? The occasion past,
however, our pulse resumes its normal beat, and
presently in slumber the scene and all its glories
fade away. But not the memory fades ! Year
by year while trouble, sickness, hopes and long-
ings get blotted from our recollection, the printed
page or glance at whip and spur, shall revive
with more than pristine splendour, the memory of
the chase.

And what of the stag ? Well, the stag's life
is not, I fear, a happy one ; for him no sooner
is one trouble past than another is upon him.
During the summer his horns are growing and
keep him in constant irritation and anxiety. The
velvet is hardly lost when the fever of the rut-
ting season consumes him. Then there is the hard
winter to live through, and with the return of
spring returns also the period for the shedding of
old horns, and sprouting of new ones. Indeed, it
is only for a few weeks in every year that the stag
is his perfect self, and those weeks, with a small
margin before and after, constitute what is called
the stag-hunting season, a season of relief to the

236 STAG -HUNTING ON EXMOOR

farmer whose turnip crops have been ruined by
the herd's depredations, a season of anxiety to the
master of the Devon and Somerset staghounds, a
season of delight to him who loves the chase.
Pleasure unalloyed, indeed, for so long as fortune
favours him, but assuredly the day will sooner or
later arrive when a grip or cart rut on Exmoor will
turn horse and rider over, when the red grass or
white bog flower that should warn the horseman to
" take a pull " is overlooked or disregarded, with
alarming results. The least of the ills that flesh
is heir to, when stag-hunting on Exmoor, is to lose
one's way twenty miles from home, and be found a
solitary horseman wandering on the moor, soaked to
the skin, out of hail of any living creature but
forest ponies, and uneasily musing on the old nurse-
tales of pixies. If, in such case, you are fortunate
enough to stumble upon a moorland farm, do not
fail to accept the shelter which will surely be
offered ; and so shall the congratulations of your
friends sound sweet in your ears when you return
safe and sound on the morrow. Your landlord also,
if you are staying at an inn and hunting on a
hired mount, will welcome you with such evident
sincerity that you feel sure it is not unconnected
with the recovery of his horse.

SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

By " Sarcelle "

It is a gloriously bright, glowing autumn morning,
a light breeze ruffles the clear, blue surface of the
Atlantic, or rather of a little bay thereof, which
lies in a pretty setting of hills and mountains just
in front of the window whereat I am writing,
beyond the hydrangeas and fuchsias of the garden
and an intervening stretch of marshland, home of
many a snipe and duck. As the day is bright, and
the water in the river low, there is but little chance
of hooking either salmon or trout before evening ;
therefore, instead of " dropping a line " to those
finny aristocrats, I will endeavour to '' improve the
shining hour " by writing a few lines about them,
and their " followers."

Truly a fitting room is this in which to write of
matters piscatorial — ay, of sport in general. In a
corner, just two feet to the left of me, are my two
beloved rods, a trout fly-rod and a troUing-rod ; by
the opposite end of the fire-place repose a handsome

237

238 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

salmou-rod, and a landing-net of portentous dimen-
sions, so huge that it looks more suitable for Og,
king of Bashan, or Goliath of Gath, than for
any modern mortal : but it is not upon record that
those large gentlemen ever studied the quaint pages
of " The Contemplative Man's Eecreation." Two
chairs off me lies my old creel, which had eleven
good sea-trout in it yesterday, but now contains
only my precious fly-book, its cover shiny with
hundreds of rrlitteriniij scales of the beautiful fish,
which I shall be at no pains to remove ; for when
I am far away from these charming scenes those
scales shall remind me of the river and the lough,
of the mountains and the heather, of the grouse and
the snipe, and of the genial companions it has been
my good luck to meet in old Ireland.

A little beyond my fishing-basket is a sideboard
which is littered with central-fire cartridges, tins of
powder, and bags of shot. It is also adorned by
one or two short clay pipes, and by a " billy-cock "
hat, which, like almost every other hat in this inn,
is covered with the most approved " casts " of
salmon and trout-flies. In the corner, by the side-
board, two more rods and another landing-net ; on
the floor, sundry and divers pairs of sturdy-looking
shooting boots. Next we come to a big salmon-
creel, three central-fire guns, and a muzzle-loader ;

SPORT AMOXGST THE MOUNTAINS 239

more hats, adorned with bunches of heather and
casts of flies ; a big shrimp-net (by the way, I and
a fellow-sportsman took about five quarts of beauti-
ful prawns with that latter one afternoon) ; more
pipes, more fishing-rods.

In one corner of the room is a stuffed badger,
which was pulled out of a deep and narrow hole,
after a struggle of nearly two hours, by a white bull-
terrier with a brown patch over one eye, who is
now lying at my feet. On the chimney-piece are a
grouse and a peregrine falcon, the latter incurring
grave penalties by " the wearing of the green," for
some friendly hand has adorned it with a little
Dolly Yarden hat of that colour. Xow to complete
his notion of my immediate surroundings, the
reader must picture another window at the other
end of this room, looking out not upon the sea,
but upon a high heathery mountain, the home of
the grouse and the hare ; and he must imagine
frequent interruptions from the incursions of friendly
dogs, pointers, setters, retrievers, greyhounds, and
terriers. Yes, the whole atmosphere of this house
is evidently of the sport, sporting ; the " commer-
cial " would be at a discount here ; all are lovers of
the rod or gun, many of both ; and those of the
fair sex who honour us witli their presence — thank
cjoodness we are not without their refininsj and

240 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS
humanisino- influence — take a keen interest in our

o

sport, and are proud of the doings of their respec-
tive husbands, brothers, or sons — for there are
several family-parties staying here.

Some of my readers with sporting proclivities are
already beginning to ask, " Where is this ' happy
hunting ground ? ' " Alas, I fear me that I must
not proclaim it in the pages of so popular a
periodical as this, for there were nine rods on the
little river yesterday, and our worthy hostess has
her house nearly full of people, and her hands quite
full of work ; and if it were only generally known
in London how delightful a place is the White
Trout Inn (that is the most appropriate sobriqicet I
can think of for the moment), we should be flooded
with eager sportsmen, the rivers would be over-
fished, the moors over-shot, and the place spoiled.
Before I dilate further on the delights of the White
Trout Inn and its surroundings, I must lay down
my pen for a brief space, and devote myself to the
consumption of a hearty breakfast, at which some
of the fish, from which the inn takes its name,
invariably figure, accompanied generally by eggs and
bacon, grilled mutton, and other solid viands.

It is done, the inner man is refreshed ; and
though a stronger breeze has sprung up, bringing
clouds with it, and rods are off to the river, and

SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS 241

guns to the mountain, and a knowing old profes-
sional angler in long-tailed frieze coat, indescribable
hat, knee breeches, and black stockings, opines that
there is a good chance for both trout and salmon,
I must forego the sport for the present, and finish
my appointed task. The White Trout Inn is not
situated in a town, nor even in a village, though
there are a few scattered houses here and there, but
the place has the inestimable advantage to the
sportsman of being twenty miles distant from a
railway. Within a comfortable hour's walk of mine
inn is a lovely lake five miles in length, surrounded
by mountains as grand as artist could desire.
White villas nestle here and there on the wooded
slopes that lead down to the clear blue water, dotted
with sundry fishing-boats, from which anglers are
throwing the fly for salmon or trout, both of which
swarm in the lake.

From the lake down to the sea a beautiful river
runs a picturesque course of about four miles, in a
valley with mountains on the one side and well-
cultivated hills and slopes on the other ; and in
every part of the river are to be found the noble
salmon, the brilliant white or sea-trout, and their
humble relative, the brown trout — in England a
prize coveted by most anglers, and esteemed by
most gourmcmds, but here looked upon with con-

242 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

tempt alike by fisliermeii and epicures, being far
exceeded both in strength and gamesomeness, and
in delicacy of flavour, by its migratory brother from
the sea. The fishing in both river and lake is free
to visitors at this inn, who have, moreover, the
privilege of shooting over some of the neighbouring
mountains, where may be found grouse, hares, wood-
cock, and snipe. There is grand duck-shooting
here in the season, and the lovely bay affords an
immense abundance and variety of sea fish to tliose
who like a good breeze and a bit of heavy hand-
pulling, as an occasional change after many days'
fly-fishing. We have a glorious sandy beach, wdiere
sea-bathing may be enjoyed untrammelled by con-
ventionalities of machines or costumes. We have
always some of " the best of all good company "
here ; in fact, one gentleman, as true a sportsman
as ever crossed country, drew trigger, or threw
salmon-tiy, has taken up his abode here en ^;f?'-
inanence, and finds sport of some kind for nearly
every day in the year.

I must not omit to mention that, for those who
like to take rifle or shot-gun out to sea with them,
we have seals pretty frequently, and a great abun-
dance of large wild-fowl. Our larder, I need hardly
say, is kept constantly supplied with the best of fish
and game, and the " cellar 's as good as the cook,"

SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS 243

the whisky especially being undeniable and insinu-
ating, and " divil a headache in a hogshead of it."

But I am to say something about salmon-fishing.
Faith, it's difficult to say anything new about it,
inspiring and exciting theme though it be. The
rationale of it I utterly renounce. We know pretty
well why a trout takes an artificial fly. It is a toler-
ably correct imitation of a natural insect, which is
the natural food of our spotted friend ; and the
different flies wliich are used on different waters,
and during the various months, are constantly
changed to correspond with the proper insects
frequenting each locality at each period. Of
course, this is reasonable enough. A trout is
lying on the look-out for flies, and something
comes floating down the stream towards him,
which so closely resembles his natural food, that
he sees no earthly (or watery) reason to sup-
pose it to be unwholesome, and he takes it, and —
it disagrees with him. But why on earth a salmon
should ever make such a fool of himself as to jump
at a huge, gaudy arrangement of feathers, fur, silk,
&c., which is not an imitation of anything " in the
heavens above or the earth below, or the waters under
the earth," the nearest approach to a faithful simile
for which would seem to be an imaginary cross be-
tween a humming-bird and a butterfly, altogether

244 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

passes my comprehension. Still more astonishing is
it that these extraordinary objects must be varied in
size, colours, and sundry other particulars, according
to locality and time of year.

But let not the reader, who is yet unlearned in
the craft, imagine that every salmon is such a fool as
to leap at the gaudy lure. From my little experi-
ence of the number of these princely fish which run
up certain rivers, and the small proportion of them
which fall victims to the rod, I would rather be
inclined to come to the conclusion that these un-
happy individuals must either be lunatics or morbid
misanthropical (misopiscical ?) specimens of the
genus, that a fish who takes the fly is either entirely
bereft of his senses, or has firmly made up his mind,
wearied with subaqueous trials, to hang himself —
upon a hook — and that his vigorous struggles after
he is hooked are to be accounted for by that instinct
of self-preservation which is the first law of nature,
and which often leads a would-be suicide, after he
has jumped into the water, to exert himself might
and main to get out of it again.

Not the least charm of salmon-fishing is the
wild grandeur of the scenery in which the best of
it is found, heather-clad mountains, ravines, and
gorges, rapid, rushing streams, plashing waterfalls,
deep smooth pools, and huge rocks here and there

SPORT AMOXGST THE MOUNTAINS 245

ill the river, adding picturesqueness to the scene
and increased danger to the line.

"Who has not read vivid descriptions of the kill-
ing of a salmon ?

First comes the " rise," no little circling splash
like that of a trout, but a rushing boil in the water,
hailed with a joyous shout by the angler and his
attendant ; then there is a momentary check ; then
the merry music of the clicking reel as the fish
rushes off, perchance quite slowly at first, not
apparently quite alive to the danger of his position ;
but when the fact dawns upon him that the little
sting in the tail of the fly he snapped at is attached
to something that is seriously menacing his liberty,
his struggles become exciting in the extreme. Xow
comes a swift rush, taking out some fifty yards
of line without a check. Now he is seen for a
moment — of extreme danger to the tackle — throw-
ing himself high out of water, a huge bar of bright-
est silver, falling back into it again with a splash.
Instantaneous guesses are made at his weight ; then
comes a long run, fatiguing for both fish and fisher-
man, up and down stream ; then the salmon,
getting rather fagged, half turns on his side near
the opposite bank, but he is of no use over there.
A little later on he comes over to our side, and
Sandy or Patsy, as the case may be, " makes an

I R

246 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

offer " at him with the gaff, but it is too soon ; the
fish, roused to fresh life by the sight of the horrid
biped, exerts all his remaining strengtli — we have
two or three last frantic rushes, moments of intense
excitement, during which we have not one single
thought for anything in the wide world but that
salmon and that gaff. At last the gallant fellow
is near the bank, thoroughly tired this time — the
gaff is in his quivering flesh ; Patsy struggles up
the bank with our glittering prize ; the fish is
knocked on the head, the fiy carefully cut out, the
hackles blown and cleared of blood or dirt — for
some salmon-flies are worth from fifteen shillings to
two pounds each — and then we and Patsy, or
Sandy, can sit down on the bank and enjoy our
well-earned rest.

First we must have a "tot" of whisky to "wet
that fish " ; then Patsy says, " Sure now, yer
honour '11 be afther giving the blessed pool a bit of
rest, an' we'll thry another directly."

So we sit and enjoy the beauty of the mountain
and river scenery, with a pipe of good tobacco and a
frequent furtive glance at the salmon, till a freshen-
ing breeze, or the sight of a rising fish, inspires us
with fresh courage, to result, if we are lucky, in a
fresh capture.

Pleasant, too, is the fishing from a boat on the

SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS 247

rippling surface of our fair gem of a lake in the
grand setting of those majestic mountains ; ay, and
pleasant too when the salmon are sulky, is the
fishing for the beautiful white trout in the various
streams betw^een the lake and the tideway ; and
exciting indeed is the struggle when a white trout
with glittering scales, only a few hours from the
sea, is hooked on a small trout-fly and fine drawn
gut — for your sea- trout is the most active of fish,
and will £jive the angler a braver fight than a brown
trout of more than double his size, flinging himself
constantly high into the air, a silvery flash of light,
game to the very last, making rush after rush, and
spring after spring, when you think he should be
quite safe for the landing-net.

Ay, and when the shades of evening are falling
over mountain and valley, river, lake, and bay,
when the smoke from the chimney of our inn,
rising from amongst the trees which surround it,
suggests busy doings at the huge peat-fire in the
kitchen, pleasant is the walk or drive back to that
snug hostelry, and jovial the dinner — with salmon
and trout fresh from lake and river, grouse not
quite so fresh from the mountain, and snipe from
the marsh.

Genial and jolly, too, is the evening talk over
our glasses of punch, the recital of incidents of

248 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

sport during the day, the compaiisoii of Hies, the
arrangement of plans for the morrow. '' Early to
bed and early to rise," is a very good motto gener-
ally for the sportsman ; but there are seasons when
the morning fishing is of but little account, and,
mindful of this, we prolong our symposia and our
yarns far into the small liours till our stock of
anecdotes and tobacco are alike exhausted.

Many a rich man has paid down his hundreds
for the rental of part of a salmon river, and per-
haps his fish have cost him twenty to a hundred
guineas each. But then again tlie poor professional
anglers often make a good living by it, partly by
the salmon they catch, and partly by acting as
guides and instructors to tourists and amateurs.
And here let me tell the reader to take the anec-
dotes of his tourist friends anent the salmon they
liave killed in Ireland or Scotland cum grano salis.
I believe that about nineteen out of twenty fish
*' taken" by non-resident amateurs are risen and
hooked by Patsy or Sandy aforesaid.

The most delicate part of the negotiation having
thus been effected, the rod is carefully handed to
the amateur, and he is instructed how to humour
and play the fish, which is gaffed at last, and he
may certainly be said to have killed it, though he
was not exactly the man who caught it.

SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS 249

But to do Patsy or Sandy justice he is — though
sometimes, sub rosd, a bit of a poacher — a keen
lover of real sport, and infinitely prefers accom-
panying anyone who can throw a fly and kill a fish
himself to one of the amateurs aforesaid, in spite of
the heavier fee he may expect from the latter.

A friend called one day on a professional fisher-
man near here, and found him lugging a big table
about his cabin by the aid of a hook and a bit of a
line. " What the divil are ye doin' at all at all ? "
asked his friend Corny. " Sure, thin, I'd betther
be brakin' the hook in the table than brakin' it in
a salmon," was the reply.

And this little yarn bears a very good practical
moral. See that your tackle is sound and perfect
in every respect before you go after salmon.

Ludicrous incidents sometimes happen in salmon-
fishing. A bungling amateur on the Bandon river,
near Cork, hooked something whicli seemed to him
to be an immense and very sulky salmon. The
stream was swift, but the fish never travelled very
far, moving sluggishly about and resisting all his
efforts to bring it to the surface.

At last, after a long but very uneventful play of
about two hours, the thing came into a more rapid
part of the stream, lifted to the top of the water,
and behold, a big ox-hide, which had been sunk in

250 SPORT AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS

that part of the river ! The disgust of that angler,
and the profane language he gave way to, may be
imagined. A friend of mine had a long play with
what seemed to be a very heavy spring fish, but at
last it came to the top, when the attendant Patsy ex-
claimed, " Bedad, it's a judy, sir ! " And a " judy " it
was, that is, a spent fish or kelt, but it was hooked by
the tail, which accounts for the vigorous play it gave.

There is a rather strong religious sentiment among
some of our Irish professional salmon-fishers. One
of them has been known at the commencement of a
season to sprinkle his patron's rod, line, and flies
with holy water, as a potent charm. Another
worthy was out the other day with a friend of mine
fishing for white trout. My friend hooked a nice
strong fish over two pounds, which got away after a
brief play. In the first excitement of this loss his
attendant exclaimed, " Oh, the divil carry him then !"
but, suddenly bethinking himself, added, " an' may
God forgive me for cursin' the blessed fish — that
didn't take a good hould ! "

But the day has become so beautifully breezy and
cloudy that I can't possibly sit here any longer,
knowing that all my brethren of the craft are on the
river or the lake, so I will e'en pick up rod, shoulder
basket, and be off after them. Kind reader, I crave
your indulgence, and — An revoir.

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW^

BY " OLD CALABAR "

Fourteen years have passed away and somewhat
mildewed my hair since the first show of dogs took
place at Birmingham.

How many glorious fellows connected with that
and subsequent exhibitions have " gone from our
gaze," never again to be seen by those who were
" hail-fellow well met " with them !

Poor Frederick Burdett, Paul Hakett, George
Jones, George Moore, that inimitable judge of a
pointer ; Joseph Lang, and lately, Major Irving,
with a host of others, have passed away.

Ruthless Death, with his attendant, " Old Father
Time," has mowed them down in quick succession
without favour or distinction.

It makes one sad to think of it ; and also to know
that some who are in the land of the living have,
to use a sporting expression, " cut it."

For years I have not seen " the Prior," " Idstone,"
the Pievs. O'Grady and Mellor, John Walker of Hali-

* It should be mentioned that this paper was written several
years ago. — Ed. S.S.

2SI

252 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

fax, and CrojDpen of Horncastle. Yet I know that
some of them are still to the fore in dog matters,
and are running their race against " all time."

Poor Walker, by-the-by, I saw last year. He
was unfortunately shot by accident some two or
three seasons back by a friend ; he has never, if I
may so term it, " come with a rush " again. William
Lort, one of our oldest judges, is hard at work here,
there, and everywhere, with one or two more of the
old circuit.

What has become of Viscount Curzon, who so
well filled the chair at tlie Annual Dinner ? Death
has been busy again, for Viscount Curzon is, by the
demise of his father, now Earl Howe. The last
time I saw his Lordship was at the " Hen and
Chickens" at Birmingham, in 1869. Poor Lord
Garvagh was on his right hand ; he too has gone
" the way of all flesh."

On that occasion I remember that prince of good
fellows, P. L. Hunt, who has been connected with
the show from its commencement, singing a song
that made our hair curl, and drove one or two
white- tied gentlemen from the room.

The Earl Howe has been chairman of the Com-
mittee ever since the show was started, and Mr
George Beecli, the secretary, nearly as long; and
right well has he done his work,

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 253

I do not exactly know with whom the idea of
dog shows originated. My old friend, the late
Major Irving, told me it was with Frederick Bur-
dett ; others have informed me it was Mr Brailsford,
the father of the present men, and formerly keeper
to the Earl of Derby, the present Earl's father.
Whoever it originated with, it was a happy idea,
and has given endless amusement to thousands.

As I have often stated, I do not think shows have
improved the breed of dogs, but they have brought
many strains forward which were known nothing
about before, except to a few.

Dog shows have opened the door to a good deal
of roguery ; unscrupulous breeders have bred dogs
for size, head, coat, and colour. To effect this they
have mixed up strains ; the consequence is that,
although it cannot be detected by the judges, the
animals are, in reality, nothing more or less than
mongrels ; this has been done uiore particularly in
the sporting classes, and with fox-terriers especially.

But dog shows are wonderfully popular all over
the kingdom. It has not rested with us alone, for
the French have for years had exhibitions, and this
year there was one at Vienna.

It has often surprised me there is so much
wrangling, and so many letters from disappointed
exhibitors, after a dog show. The same thing does

254 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

not occur in cattle and horse shows ; why then with
dog shows ?

The Birmingham Dog Show is a favourite of mine.
Everything is so well conducted and carried out.
The comfort of the animals is strictly attended to,
and the building is spacious and airy. You see so
many old friends you would not otherwise meet,
which makes it very enjoyable.

One of the most celebrated breeders of blood-
hounds is Major John A. Cowen, of Blaydon Burn,
Blaydon-on-Tyne ; and he has also a famous
breed of setters, but he never has a bad one of any
sort.

All coursing men breed good greyhounds, so I
cannot pitch on anyone in particular for these —
and fox-hounds, deer-hounds, otter-hounds, harriers
or beagles, are bred by so many that 1 cannot pick
out anyone in particular.

The most celebrated breeders of fox-terriers are
Messrs Murchison and Gibson, Brokenhurst, Lyming-
ton, Hants ; Mr Cropper, of Horncastle, and Mr T.
Wootton, Mapperley, near Nottingham. Of pointers,
small and medium-sized, perhaps Mr Whitehouse,
Tpsley Court, Piedditch, Warwickshire, is the best
known ; of the large size, Mr Thomas Smith, The
Grange, Tettenhall, Wolverhampton ; Eichard Garth,
Esq., Q.C. ; Lord Downe, Danby Lodge, Yarm,

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 255

Yorkshire ; Mr Francis E. Hemming, Bentley
Manor, Bromsgrove, and others. Of setters, R. LI.
Purcell-Llewellin, Esq., Willesley Hall, Ashby-de-la-
Zouche, Leicestershire ; Edward Laverack, Esq.,
Broughall Cottage, near Whitchurch, Shropshire ;
Geo. Jones, Esq., Ivy Cottage, Ascott ; Thomas
Pilkington, Esq., Lyme Grove, Prescot, Lancashire;
Major John A. Cowen, Blaydon Burn, Blaydon-on-
Tyne ; Captain Thomas Allaway, Highbury House,
near Lydney; Captain Eichard Cooper, Thornly
Hall, Welford, Paigby ; Capt. Hutchison ; The
Prior, and many others. Of retrievers, I shall only
name one, Mr J. D. Gorse, Old Manor House, Piad-
cliffe-on-Trent, Notts. His curly black-coated dogs
are the handsomest I ever saw.

There are so many different breeds of spaniels
that I will not attempt to name any breeders —
their name is lecjion — neither do I intend to touch
on the non-sporting classes ; but should anyone
wish to know where any particular sort of dog is
to be had, and will write to me, I shall have great
pleasure in giving him every information.

Gentlemen who are anxious to become members
of a canine society, cannot, I imagine, do better
than belong to the National, which is composed of
many of the first noblemen and sportsmen in the
United Kingdom.

256 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

The society held their show the latter part of
last year at Nottingham, and a very capital show it
was, too, and bids fair to be second to none.

To exhibitors, disappointed or otherwise, I would
say, never mind the reports you read in papers as
to the merits or demerits of your dogs ; remember
that such reports are only the production of one,
and that one may know just as much of a dog as
he does of the man in the moon. It is amusincr to
read the accounts of a show in the different papers.
I have very frequently seen every one of them
disagree ; one calling a dog a splendid animal ;
another, that the said splendid animal was nothing
but a cur : so T say, never be disheartened at wdiat
the papers may write, and remember the fable of
the old man and his ass.

Curzon Hall has been much enlarged of late
years, and it is now not nearly big enough for the
number of dogs that are sent. It is a fine building,
and eminently adapted for tlie purpose. Walking
along the galleries, which are very spacious, you
can look over and see all the dogs below and the
people as well.

The entries this year are exactly tliirty-three in
advance of 1872. Take it altogether, it is the best
entry, as to numbers and quality, they have ever
liad. The total entries in the sporting classes were

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 257

557; viz.: — 10 blood-hounds, 23 deer-hounds, 19
greyhounds, 4 otterhounds, 11 harriers, 8 beagles,
127 fox-terriers, 85 pointers, 87 setters, 78
retrievers, 82 spaniels, 15 Dachshunds, and 5 in
the extra class for any foreign breed of sporting
dogs.

For dogs not used in field-sports there were
387 entries; viz.: — 46 mastiffs, 24 St Bernards, 19
Newfoundlands, 26 sheep-dogs, 6 Dalmatians, 23
bull - dog-s, 27 bull - terriers, 15 smooth - haired
terriers, 2 5 black - and. - tan terriers, 1 6 Skye
terriers, 15 Dandie Dinmonts, C broken-haired
terriers, 17 Bedlington terriers, 12 wire-haired
terriers, 14 Pomeranians, 19 pugs, 6 Maltese, 7
Italian greyhounds, 8 Blenheim spaniels, 7 King
Charles spaniels, 28 toy terriers, and 21 foreign
dogs.

I have before remarked that many, very many,
find fault with the decisions of judges when there
is no occasion to do so, and some when there is
just reason ; but they should remember it is not
etiquette to question the judges' fiat. They enter
their dogs subject to those who are chosen to
adjudicate on their merits ; and after the awards
are made, right or wrong, there should be an end to
the matter.

I have always thought, and always shall think,

258 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

that the public would be much more satisfied if
they knew who the judges would be at the time a
show was advertised. Those intending to exhibit
could then do as they liked, enter or not. But, on
the other hand, if this were done, the entries would
not be nearly so numerous, and the receipts smaller
in proportion ; but in such a show as Birmingham,
where the Committee have a good balance in hand,
it would not much matter. At any rate, it is
worth the trial. The Birmingham Committee is
composed of men who are thoroughly well up on
the subject, and have, doubtless, good reasons for
continuing as they do.

An attempt was made, some years ago, of judg-
ing by points — a thoroughly absurd notion, and one
worthy of those from whom it emanated.

Fancy men who really knew what a dog was,
going about with a tape, like a tailor ! Would you
see judges of horses or cattle doing this ? Perhaps
to take the girth of a bullock it might be, and is
done ; but that is all, except weighing them.
When the entries are numerous, of course it takes
time to judge them. In such a class as the fox-
terriers, which is extremely large at Birmingham —
this year it being no less than 127, and many of
the animals being very evenly balanced — it is any-
thing but an easy task ; but with all this, judges

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 259

generally manage to spot the right animals. Tt
does not follow that sporting clogs who gain a prize
at a show are any good for the field. Many first-
prize dogs are utterly useless for it, never having
been broken : and, if they had, might perhaps have
turned out worthless. Dogs of the first breed are
often gun-shy, want nose, face, method of range,
will not back or stand, and are otherwise utterly
unmanageable. It is not every dog that breaks
well ; not one in ten makes what is called a first-
class animal. All judges can do, when the dogs are
led from their benches, is to give prizes to those
who come up to the standard in head, shape,
strength, colour, and general goodness of formation.

At some show^s judging in public is the fashion ;
but this is a very great mistake, and has been
proved to be so time after time. Judges should be
quite to themselves when they are giving their
awards ; and not have a crowd around them making
their remarks, which are sometimes anything but
flattering. A dog, to win at such a show as
Birmingham, must not only be handsome, but he
must go up in good coat and in the pink of
condition.

Having now given a general outline of the
Birmingham Dog Show from its commencement, I
will turn to the show itself for this year. Take it

260 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

altogether, it has 1jeen the most successful one
that has yet taken place ; and when in Class 3,
bloodhounds (dogs), the following prices are
attached to them, perhaps all readers may form
some idea how the owners value their animals : —
Eival, £500; Brutus, £1000; Baron, £1050; Draco,
£10,000,000,000. Of course these prices are only
put against them to show they are not for sale.
Another, by the same owner as Draco, was merely
£10,000. So highly are stock dogs and breeding
bitches valued, that it is simply impossible to get
them ; and it is very rarely the best pups are sold,
and if they are, at an enormous price.

Altogether, there were 103 classes, so it will be
impossible for me to notice all ; in fact, I must
leave the non-sporting classes, and confine myself
to pointers, setters, spaniels, and retrievers.

I will take three gentlemen who sent heavy
entries : — Mr Price of Ehiwlas, Bala, North Wales,
had fourteen entries, comprising 1 fox-terrier, 6
pointers, 1 setter, 2 retrievers, 1 spaniel, 1 sheep-
dog, 1 Dalmatian and 1 bull-dog. He only got
with these, two first prizes, one commended, and
five highly commended. Notwithstanding all the
puff and long pedigrees given by this gentleman in
the catalogues, it will be seen he did not do very
much. Two of tlie highly commended ones, Ginx's

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 261

Baby, and a dog with an unwriteable name, were
bred by Mr Purcell Llewellin, who has three more
of the same litter in his kennel far superior to
these. His pointer bitch, Belle, was absent, but
in her place was a large photograph — another
species of puff. The bitch is not A 1, being a
soft, tiring animal. In the catalogue she appears
with £10,000,000,000 as her price. Take away
the figure 1, and we should then get at her right
value. As regards his old setter, Eegent, who took
a first in Class 34, it is an incomprehensible bit
of judgment ; for Mr Llewellin's eleven months
old. Flame, was the best in the class, far away. I
am forced to admit that the Ehiwlas kennel is but
a second-rate one. Mr Purcell Llewellin had
eight entries, one absent (Nellie). None of his
dogs were in feather, yet so good are they that out
of the seven who represented him six were to the
fore — two first prizes, one second prize, and three
highly commended. This is something like form.
Prince took the first in the Champion Class. He
is, without doubt, the handsomest headed setter in
England, and the Champion Countess not only
very beautiful, but the test in the field. Prince
won at the Crystal Palace this year, taking
champion prize and extra cup — the same at
Birmingham in 1872 and 1873 ; first prize and
I s

262 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHONA^

extra cup at the Crystal Palace in 1872 ; at
Birmingham in 1871 and 1872, first prize and
extra cup. He has never been shown anywhere
else, and has never been beaten. Countess, the
nonpareil, though out of feather, was in good
muscle and condition, and beat Mr Dickens's
celebrated Belle. Countess has only been ex-
hibited four times — at the Crystal Palace and
Birmingham — has won each time and never been
beaten. Take her altogether she is the setter of
England.

Mr Whitehouse of Ipsley Court, Warwickshire,
had an entry of twelve — 11 pointers and 1 re-
triever. Out of these there were three first prizes,
one second, one highly commended, and one com-
mended. It will thus be seen that, as breeders,
both Mr Whitehouse, for pointers, and Mr Purcell
Llewellin, for setters, are far before Mr Price — and
will be, for his animals are not up to the mark.
Mr Thomas Smith of the Grange, Tettenhall,
Wolverhampton, had a grand entry of ten ; and he
spotted three first prizes and one commended.
Take the setters all through, they were very
good.

The black-and-tan setters in Class 37 (dogs)
were good; but in Class 38 (bitches) were still
better.

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 263

Class 39, setters (Irish dogs), was good. Curiously
enough, there was exactly the same entry this year
as last, viz., 14. Mr Stone, with Dash, spotted the
first prize ; Mr Purcell Llewellin, the second with
Kite, y.H.C. with Kinio, and three others got
Y.H.C.

In 1872 the entry for Class 40, setters (Irish
bitches), was 10 ; this year it was only 8 ; but
they were the best lot that have ever been shown
at the Hall, and so highly were they thought of by
the judges that every one in the class was highly
commended. Here three gentlemen, probably the
best breeders of the Irish setter we have, contended,
viz. : — Captains Cooper and Allaway and Mr Purcell
Llewellin. Captain Cooper exhibited three, Captain
Allaway one, Mr Llewellin one ; but the first prize
fell to neither of these gentlemen, Mr Jephson
beating them on the post with Lilly II., and
Captain Cooper running a good second with Eilie ;
though neither were bred by the same gentleman,
yet each was two years and four months old.

There were 78 entries for retrievers. For the
best in all classes (curly- coated), Mr Morris took it
with True ; he also secured the Champion Class
Bitches (curly-coated) with X L; second prize in
Class 43 with Marquis ; highly commended in same
class with Monarch ; first prize in Class 44 with

264 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

Moretta. So with an entry of six he secured three
first prizes, one second, and one highly commended
— good form indeed.

My old friend Mr Gorse, one of our very best
breeders, took the champion prize in smooth or
wavy-coated dogs with Sailor, four years old ; and
a fine animal he is. The spaniels were 82 entries,
and some very good ones, too, there were among
them. Classes 55 and 56 were capital. Better
have never been seen at Curzon Hall.

The greyhounds were a poor lot. It is not the
time of year for hounds or greyhounds, as they are
all at work.

The non-sporting and toy classes were well
represented. And it was amusing to see the
excitement and hear the exclamations of some of
the ladies on looking at the cages which held these
beautiful little animals.

I have often thought how much better it would
be if ladies, or others who want dogs, instead of
sending to a London dealer, who is almost sure to
" do " them, were to attend such shows as Birming-
ham, the Crystal Palace, or Nottingham. Tliere
you can pick out what you want — always remem-
bering you must give a good price for a good article.
But, then, if you intend to exhibit, and you have
a good animal, it will soon pay itself ; and

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 265

if you breed, the pups will see your money
back.

Good as the other exhibitions have been at
Birmingham, this must be considered the best ; and
with an entry of 944 against 911 of last year.

At the time of writini:^ this — the 3rd December
— I have seen no letters from disappointed ex-
hibitors or others. But then, " Bell's Life," " Land
and Water," and the Authority {query) have not yet
appeared.

The "Times," however, for the 2nd December,
says it was a most capital show.

Both Mr Murchison and the Eev. Mr Tennison
Mosse were conspicuous by their absence, but I
hope to see them to the fore again at the Crystal
Palace Show, with their unapproachable fox and
Dandie Dinmont terriers. Talking of fox-terriers,
I have overlooked them. Not only was the entry
a grand one (127), but the quality was good too. I
love the terrier, for he is a sporting little dog, no
matter what breed ; but the fox-terrier is the
favourite, if one may judge from the entries. But
why other terriers, such as smooth-haired, black-
and-tan, Skye, drop-eared, and others, Dandie
Dinmont, broken-haired, wire-haired, and Bedling-
ton should not be included in the sporting classes,
I have ever been at a loss to imagine. There is

266 A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW

no better terrier exists to drive heavy gorse for
rabbits than the Dandie Dinmont He is the
gamest of the game, and no cover, however thick,
will stop him. Mr Wootton of Mapperley, near
Nottingham, has a magnificent breed of ^vire-haired
terriers, the best in England. For this class (92),
there were twelve entries ; bnt Mr Wootton skinned
the lamb, taking first and second prizes with
Venture and Tip, and the highly commended Spot
being bred by him.

Whatever sort of terrier Mr Wootton has, you
may be sure of one thing — that it is the right
sort.

I confess to a ^;c7?c/ia7i^ for the wire-haired
terrier, rather than the fox-terrier, for the latter
are now bred very soft and delicate — there is too
much Italian greyhound in them for me. Of course
I am speaking generally. Give me, if I must have
fox-terriers, hard ones, such as Old Jock was —
something that will stand wet and cold, the cut-
and-come-again sort.

One thing I sincerely hope will be done away
with next year at Birmingham, viz. : — the photo-
graphic dodge of advertisement, as was the case
with Mr Price's Belle. It is quite wearying
enough to inflict his long-winded pedigrees on the
public, without the picture puff; and I trust the

A BIRMINGHAM DOG SHOW 267

committee will see the necessity of putting a stop
to this, or in a few years Curzon Hall will be
turned into a photographic gallery instead of a dog
show, which I hardly think would be pleasing to
the visitors.

The next dog show of any importance will be at
the Crystal Palace, held from June 9th to the 12th.
It is to be hoped that the judges this year will be
properly selected ; but as it is to be held under the
auspices of the Kennel Club, I suppose none but
their own clique will officiate. But let me hope
they will see the folly of such a course, and that
they will select judges that do not belong to
their association — then the public will have con-
fidence, which they will not if members of the club
exhibit, and members of the club adjudicate.

HUNTIXGCEOP HALL.

" Eeputatiox ! Eepiitation ! oli, I have lost my
reputation ! " It was, I believe, one Michael Cassio,
a Florentine, who originally made the remark ; and
I can only say I sincerely wish I were in Michael
Cassio's position, and could lose mine. It may be
a " bubble," this same reputation ; indeed, we have
high authority for so terming it : but " bubble "
rhymes with '' trouble," and that is the condition to
which such a reputation as mine is apt to bring
you ; for it supposes me to be a regular Nimrod,
whereas I know about as much of the science of the
chase as my supposititious prototype probably knew
of ballooning : it sets me down as being " at home
in the saddle ; " whereas it is there that I am, if I
may be allowed the expression, utterly at sea.

When, last November, I was seated before a
blazing fire in Major Huntingcrop's town house, and
his too charming daughter, Laura, expressed her
enthusiastic admiration for hunting, and everything
connected with it — mildly at the same time hinting
her contempt for those who were unskilled in the
268

HUNTINGCROP HALL 269

accomplishment — could I possibly admit that I was
amongst the despised class ? Was it not rather a
favourable opportunity for showing our community
of sentiment by vowing that the sport was the
delight of my life, and firing off a few sentences
laden with such sporting phraseology as I had hap-
pened to pick up in the course of desultory reading ?

Laura listened with evident admiration. I waxed
eloquent. My arm-chair would not take the bit
between its teeth and run away ; no hounds were in
the neighbourhood to test my prowess ; and I am
grieved to admit that for a fearful ten minutes " the

father of stories " (what a family he must

have !) had it all his own way with me.

" Atra cura sedet post eqidtemi indeed I " I con-
cluded. '' You may depend upon it, Miss Hunting-
crop, that man was mounted on a screw ! Black
Care would never dare to intrude his unwelcome
presence on a galloper. Besides, w^hy didn't the
fellow put his horse at a hurdle ? Probably Black
Care wouldn't have been able to sit a fence. But I
quite agree with you that it is the duty of a gentle-
man to hunt ; and I only wish that the performance
of some of my other duties gave me half as much
pleasure 1 "

Where I should have ended it is impossible to
say ; but here our Ute-d-tete was interrupted by the

270 HUNTINGCROP HALL

advent of the Major, who heard the tag end of my
panegyric with manifest delight.

" Huntingcrop is the place for you, Mr Smooth-
ley," said he, with enthusiasm, " and I shall be more
than pleased to see you there. I think, too, we
shall be able to show you some of your favourite
sport this season. We meet four days a week, and
you may reckon on at least one day with the Grass-
mere. It is always a sincere pleasure to me to find
a young fellow whose heart is in it."

As regards my heart, it was in my boots at the
prospect ; and, despite the great temptation of
Laura's presence, I paused, carefully to consider the
2yj'os and cons before accepting.

How pleasant to see her fresh face every morning
at the breakfast-table — how unpleasant to see a
horse — most likely painfully fresh also — waiting to
bear me on a fearsome journey as soon as the meal
was concluded ! How delightful to feel the soft
pressure of her fingers as she gave me morning
greeting : how awful to feel my own fingers numbed
and stiff with tugging at the bridle of a wild,
tearing, unmanageable steed ! How enjoyable
to

" Are you engaged for Christmas, Mr Smooth-
ley ? " Laura inquired, and that query settled me.
It might freeze — I could sprain my ankle, or knock

'• I unceasingh' studied the works of Major Whj-te-
Mehille, and endeavoui-ed to get up a little enthu-
siasm."—Pa^e 271.

HUNTINGCROP HALL 271

up an excuse of some sort. Yes, I would go ; and
might good luck go with me.

For the next few days I unceasingly studied the
works of Major Whyte-Melville, and others who
have most to say on what they term sport, and
endeavoured to get up a little enthusiasm. I did
get up a little — very little ; but when the desired
quality had made its appearance, attracted by my
authors' wizard-like power, it was of an extremely
spurious character, and entirely evaporated when I
arrived at the little railway station nearest to the
Hall. A particularly neat groom, whom I recog-
nised as having been in town with the Hunting-
crops, was awaiting me in a dogcart, and the con-
veyance was just starting when we met a string of
horses, hooded and sheeted, passing along the road :
in training, if I might be permitted to judge from
their actions, for the wildest scenes in " Mazeppa,"
" Dick Turpin," or some other exciting equestrian
drama. I did not want the man to tell me that
they were his master's : I knew it at once ; and the
answers he made to my questions as to their usual
demeanour in the field plunged me into an abyss of
despair.

The hearty welcome of the Major, the more sub-
dued but equally inspiriting greeting of his daughter,
and the contagious cheerfulness of a house full of

272 HUNTINGCROP HALL

pleasant people, in some measure restored me ; but
it was not until the soothing influence of dinner had
taken possession of my bosom, and a whisper had
run through the establishment that it was beginning
to freeze, that I thoroughly recovered my equanimity,
and was able to retire to rest with some small hope
that my bed next night would not be one of pain
and suffering.

Alas for my anticipations ! I was awakened
from slumber by a knock at the door, and the man
entered my room with a can of hot water in one
hand and a pair of tops in the other ; while over
his arm were slung my — in point of fact, my
breeches ; a costume which I had never worn except
on the day it came home, when I spent the greater
portion of the evening sportingly arrayed astride of
a chair, to see how it all felt.

" Breakfast at nine, sir. Hounds meet at Black-
brook at half-past ten ; and it's a good way to ride,"
said the servant.

" The frost's all gone, I fea I hope ? " I said,

inquiringly.

" Yes, sir. Lovely morning ! " he answered,
drawing up the blinds.

In his opinion a lovely morning was characterised
by slightly damp, muggy weather ; in mine it would
have been a daybreak of ultra-Siberian intensity.

HUNTENGCROP HALL 273

I ruefully dressed, lamenting that my will was
not a little stronger (nor were thoughts of my other
will — and testament — entirely absent), that I might
have fled from the trial, or done something to rescue
myself from the exposure which I felt must shortly
overwhelm me. The levity of the men in the
breakfast -room was a source of suffering to me, and
even Laura's voice jarred on my ears as she peti-
tioned her father to let her follow "just a little
way " — she was going to ride and see the hounds
" throw off," a ceremony which I devoutly hoped
would be confined to those animals — " because it
was too hard to turn back when the real enjoyment
commenced ; and she would be good in the pony-
carriage for the rest of the week."

" No, no, my dear," replied the Major ; " women
are out of place in the hunting field. Don't you
think so, Mr Smoothley ? "

" I do, indeed, Major," I answered, giving Laura's
little dog under the table a fearful kick as I threw
out my foot violently to straighten a crease which
was severely galling the inside of my left knee.
'' You had far better go for a quiet ride, Miss
Huntingcrop, and " — how sincerely I added — " I
shall be delighted to accompany you ; there will be
plenty of days for me to hunt when you drive to
the meet."

274 HUNTINGCROP HALL

" 'No, no, Smootliley. It's very kind of you to
propose it, but I won't have you sacrificing your
day's pleasure," the Major made answer, dashing the
crumbs of hope from my hungering lips. " You
may go a little way, Laura, if you'll promise to stay
with Sir William, and do all that he tells you.
You won't mind looking after her, Heathertopper ? "

Old Sir William's build would have forbidden
the supposition that he was in any way given to
activity, even if the stolidity of his countenance
had not assured you that caution was in the habit
of marking his guarded way ; and he made suitable
response. I was just debating internally as to the
least circuitous mode by which I could send myself
a telegram, requiring my immediate presence in
town, when a sound of hoofs informed us that the
horses were approaching ; and gazing anxiously
from the window before me, which overlooked
the drive in front of the house, I noted their
arrival.

Now the horse is an animal whicli I have always
been taught to admire. A " noble animal " he is
termed by zoologists, and I am perfectly willing to
admit his nobility when he conducts himself with
reticence and moderation ; but when he gyrates
like a teetotum on his hind legs, and wildly spars
at the groom he ought to respect, I cease to recog-

" Gazing" anxiously from the window before me, I noted the arrival of the horses. Lauri
hastened to the window. ' You pretty darlings ! ' she rapturously exclaimed."— Pag^es 274-5.

HUNTINGCROP HALL 275

nise any qualities in him but the lowest and most
degrading.

Laura hastened to the window, and I rose from
the table and followed her.

" You pretty darlings ! " she rapturously exclaimed.
" Oh ! are you going to ride The Sultan, Mr
Smoothley ? How nice ! I do so want to, but
papa won't let me."

" No, my dear ; he's not the sort of horse for
little girls to ride ; — but he'll suit you, Smoothley ;
he'll suit you, I know."

Without expressing a like confidence, I asked,
" Is that the Sultan ? " pointing to a large chestnut
animal at that moment in the attitude which, in a
dog, is termed " begging."

" Yes ; a picture, isn't he ? Look at his legs.
Clean as a foal's ! Good quarters — well ribbed up
— not like one of the waspy greyhounds they call
thoroughbred horses now-a-days. Look at his condi-
tion, too ; I've kept that up pretty well, though he's
been out of training for some time," cried the Major.

" He's not a racehorse, is he ? " I nervously
asked.

" He's done a good deal of steeplechasing, and
ran once or twice in the early part of this season.
It makes a horse rush his fences rather, perhaps ;
but you young fellows like that, I know."

276 HUNTINGCROP HALL

" His eye appears slightly blood-shot, doesn't

it ? " I hazarded ; for he was exhibiting a large
amount of what I imagine should have been white,
in an unsuccessful attempt to look at his tail with-
out turning his head round. " Is he quiet with
hounds ? "

" Playful — a little playful," was his not assuring
reply. '' But we must be off, gentlemen. It's
three miles to Blackbrook, and it won't do to be
late ! " And he led the way to the Hall, where I
selected my virgin whip from the rack, and swallow-
ing a nip of orange-brandy, which a servant provi-
dentially handed to me at that moment, went forth
to meet my fate.

Laura, declining offers of assistance from the
crowd of pink-coated young gentlemen who were
sucking cigars in the porch, was put into the
saddle by her own groom. I think she looked to
me for aid, but I was constrained to stare studiously
in the opposite direction, having a very vague idea
of the method by which young ladies are placed in
their saddles. Then I commenced, and ultimately
effected, the ascent of The Sultan : a process which
appeared to me precisely identical with climbing to
the deck of a man-of-war.

" Stirrups all right, sir ? " asked tlie groom.

" This one's rather too long. — No, it's the other

HUNTINGCROP HALL 277

one, I think." One of them didn't seem rioht, but
it was impossible to say which in the agony of the
moment.

He surveyed me critically from tlie front, and
then took up one stirrup to a degree that brought
my knee into close proximity with my waistcoat :
The Sultan meanwhile exhibiting an uncertainty
of temperament which caused me very considerable
anxiety. Luckily I had presence of mind to say
that he had shortened the leather too much, and
there was not much difference between the two,
when, with Laura and some seven companions, I
started down the avenue in front of the house.

The fundamental principles of horsemanship are
three : keep your heels down ; stick in your knees ;
and try to look as if you liked it. So I am in-
formed, and I am at a loss to say which of the
three is the most difficult of execution. The fact
that The Sultan started jerkily, some little time
before I was ready to begin, thereby considerably
deranging such plans as I was forming for guid-
ance, is to be deplored ; for my hat was not on very
firmly, and it was extremely awkward to find a
hand to restore it to its place when it displayed a
tendency to come over my eyes. Conversation,
under these circumstances, is peculiarly difficult ;
and I fear that Laura found my remarks some-

1 T

278 HUNTINGCROP HALL

what curt and strangely punctuated. The Sultan's
behaviour, however, had become meritorious to a
high degree ; and I was just beginning to think that
hunting was not so many degrees worse than the
treadmill, when we approached the scene of action.

Before us, as we rounded a turning in the road,
a group of some thirty horsemen — to which fresh
accessions were constantly being made — chatted
together and watched a hilly descent to the right
down which the pack of hounds, escorted by several
officials, was approaching. The Major and his
party were cordially greeted, and no doubt like
civilities would have been extended to me had I
been in a position to receive them ; but, unfortu-
nately, I was not ; for, on seeing the hounds, the
'' playfulness " of The Sultan vigorously manifested
itself, and he commenced a series of gymnastic exer-
cises to which his previous performances had been
a mere farce. I lost my head, but mysteriously
kept what was more important — my seat, until the
tempest of his playfulness had in some measure
abated ; and then he stood still, shaking with ex-
citement. I sat still, shaking — from other causes.

" Keep your horse's head to the hounds, will
you, sir ? " was the salutation which the master
bestowed on me, cantering up as the pack defiled
through a gate ; and indeed The Sultan seemed

HUNTINGCROP HALL 279

anxious to kill a hound or two to begin with.
" Infernal Cockney ! " was, I fancy, the term of
endearment he used as he rode on ; but I don't
think Laura caught any of this short but forcible
utterance, for just at this moment a cry was raised
in the wood to the left, and the men charged
through the gate and along the narrow cart-track
with a wild rush. Again The Sultan urged on his
wild career — half -breaking my leg against the gate-
post, as I was very courteously endeavouring to get
out of the way of an irascible gentleman behind
me, who appeared to be in a hurry, and then
plunging me into the midst of a struggling push-
ing throng of men and horses.

If the other noble sportsmen were not enjoying
themselves more than I, it was certainly a pity
that they had not stayed at home. Where was
this going to end ? and — but what was the
matter in front ? They paused, and then suddenly
all turned round and charged back along the nar-
row path. I was taken by surprise, and got out
of the way as best I could, pulling my liorse back
amongst the trees, and the whole cavalcade rushed
past me. Out of the wood ; across the road ; over
the opposite hedge, most of them — some turn off to-
wards a gate to the right — and away up the rise be-
yond ; passing over which they were soon out of sight.

280 HUNTINGCEOP HALL

That The Sultan's elibrts to follow them had
been vigorous I need not say ; but I felt that it
was a moment for action, and pulled and tugged
and sawed at his mouth to make him keep his head
turned away from temptation. He struggled about
amongst the trees, and I felt that, under the cir-
cumstances, I should be justified in hitting him on
the head. I did so ; and shortly afterwards — it
was not exactly that I was throum, but circum-
stances induced me to get ojf rather suddenly.

My foot was on my native heath. I was alone,
appreciating the charms of solitude in a degree I
had never before experienced ; but after a few
minutes of thankfulness, the necessity of action
forced itself on my mind. Clearly, I must not be
seen standing at my horse's head gazing smilingly
at the prospect — that would never do, for the
whole hunt might reappear as quickly as they had
gone ; so, smoothing out the most troublesome
creases in my nether garments, I proceeded to
mount. I say " proceeded," for it was a difficult
and very gradual operation, but was eventually
managed through the instrumentality of a little
boy, who held The Sultan's head, and addressed
him in a series of forcible epithets that I should
never have dared to use : language, however, which,
though reprehensible from a moral point of view,

'i/y/vjwv.^

" I proceeded to mount. I say proceeded, for it •was a difficult and'very gradral operation,
but was eventually managed through the instrumentality of a little boy, who held The Sultan's
head, and addressed him in a seiies of forcible epithets that I should never have dared to use."
—Page 280.

HUNTINGCROP HALL 281

seemed to appeal to the animal's feelings, and to be
successful.

He danced a good deal when I was once more
on his l)ack, and seemed to like «oin2: in a series of
small bounds, which were peculiarly irritating to
sit. But I did not so much mind now, for no
critical eye was near to watch my hand wandering
to tlie convenient pommel, or to note my taking
such other little precautions as the exigencies of
the situation, and the necessity for carrying out the
first law of nature, seemed to suggest.

Hunting, in this way, wasn't really so very bad.
There did not appear to be so very much danger,
the morning air was refreshing and pleasant, and
the country looked bright. There always seemed
to be a gate to each field, which, though trouble-
some to open at first, ultimately yielded to patience
and perseverance and the handle of my whip. I
might get home safely after all ; and as for my
desertion, where everyone was looking after him-
self, it was scarcely likely they could have observed
my defection. No ; this was not altogether bad
fun. I could say with truth for the rest of my
life that I " had hunted." It would add a zest to
the perusal of sporting literature, and, above all,
extend the range of my charity by making me
sincerely appreciate men who really rode.

282 HUNTINGCROP HALL

But alas ! though clear of the trees practically,
I was, metaphorically, very far from being out of
the wood. When just endeavouring to make up
my mind to come out again some day, I heard a
noise, and, looking behind me, saw the whole fear-
ful concourse rapidly approaching the hedge which
led into the ploughed field next to me on the
right. Helter-skelter, on they came ! Hounds
popping through, and scrambling over. Then a
man in pink topping the fence, and on again over
the plough ; then one in black over with a rush ;
two, three, four more in different places. Another
by himself who came up rapidly, and, parting com-
pany with his horse, shot over like a rocket !

All this I noted in a second. There was no
time to watch, for The Sultan had seen the oppor-
tunity of making up for his lost day, and started
off with the rush of an express train. We flew
over the field ; neared the fence. I was shot into
the air like a shuttlecock from a battledore — a
moment of dread — then, a fearful shock which
landed me lopsidedly, somewhere on the animal's
neck. He gives a spring which shakes me into
the saddle again, and is tearing over the grass
field beyond. I am conscious that I am in the
same field as the Major, and some three or four
other men. We fly on at frightful speed — there is

"An agony of semi-unconsciousness— a splash, a fearful splash— a struggle. ... I am
on his back, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the saddle ; -without stirrups, but grimly
clutching a confused mass of reins as The Sultan gently canters up the ascent to where the
hounds are howling."— Pa^e 283,

HUNTINGCROP HALL 283

a line of willows in front of us which we are
rapidly nearing. It means water, I know. We
get — or rather it comes nearer — nearer — nearer —
ah-h-h ! An agony of semi-unconsciousness — a
splash, a fearful splash — a struggle . . .

I am on his back, somewhere in the nei^^hbour-
hood of the saddle : without stirrups, but grimly
clutching a confused mass of reins as The Sultan
gently canters up the ascent to where the hounds
are howling and barking round a man in pink, who
waves somethino' brown in the air before throwing
it to them. I have no sooner reached the group
than the master arrives, followed by some four or
five men, conspicuous among whom is the Major.

He hastens to me. To denounce me as an im-
postor ? Have I done anything wrong, or injured
the horse ?

" I congratulate you, Smoothley, — I congratulate
you ! I promised you a run, and you've liad one,
and, by Jove ! taken tlie shine out of some of us.
My Lord " — to the master — " let me present my
friend, Mr Smoothley, to you. Did you see him
take the water ? You and I made for the Narrows,
but he didn't turn away, and went at it as if
Sousemere w^ere a puddle. Eighteen feet of water
if it's an inch, and with such a take-off and such a
landing, there's not a man in the hunt who'd

284 HUNTINGCROP HALL

attempt it ! Well, Heathertopper ! Laura, my
dear," — for she and the bulky Baronet at this
moment arrived at the head of a straggling detach-
ment of followers — " you missed a treat in not
seeing Smoothley charge the brook :

' Down in tlie hollow there, shiggish and idle,

Runs the dark stream where the willow trees grow,
Harden your heart, and catch hold of your bridle —
Steady him — rouse him —and over we go ! '

Isn't that it ? It was beautiful ? "

It might have been in his opinion ; in mine it
was simply an act of unconscious insanity, whicli I
had rather die than intentionally repeat.

" I didn't see you all the time, Mr Smoothley ;
where were you ? " Laura asked.

" Where was he ? " cried the Major. " Not
following you, my dear. He took his own line,
and, by Jove ! it was a right one ! "

It was not in these terms that I had expected to
hear the Major addressing me, and it was rather
bewildering. Still I trust that I was not puffed up
with an unseemly vanity as Laura rode back by my
side. She looked lovely with the flush of exercise
on her cheek, and the sparkle of excitement in her
eyes ; and as we passed homewards through the
quiet country lanes I forgot the painful creases
that were afflicting me, and with as much eloquence

-"^i

" I tnist I was not puffed up with an unseemly vanity, as Laura rode back by mj' side.
. . ' You are so rasli and daring,' she says softly, ""that I should never he happy when you
were out.' " — Pages 284-5.

HUNTINGCROP HALL 285

as was compatible with the motion of my steed — I
ventured !

The bhishes deepen on her cheek. She consents
on one condition : I must give up hunting.

" You are so rash and daring," she says, softly —
very softly, " that I should never be happy when
you were out."

Can I refuse her anything — even this ? Im-
possible !

I promise : vowing fervently to myself to keep
my word ; and on no account do anything to
increase the reputation I made at Huntingcrop
Hall.

A DOG HUNT ON THE BEEWYNS

Thanks to the columns of the sporting papers,
every Englishman, whatever his occupation, is suffi-
ciently familiar with the details of fox-hunting,
and all other kinds of hunting usually practised in
merry England ; but few, I fancy, have either seen
or heard of a dog-hunt. It has fallen to my lot to
participate in such a hunt ; one, too, which was
quite as exciting as a wolf -hunt must have been in
the olden time, or as that most glorious of sports,
otter-hunting, is now. Imagine to yourself a three
days' chase after a tierce and savage dog, a con-
firmed sheep worrier, and that in the midst of the
picturesque ruggedness and grandeur of the Welsli
hills.

Some three or four miles east from Bala, the
Berwyn Mountains raise their heathery summits in
the midst of a solitude broken only by the plain-
tive bleat of a lost sheep or tlie shouts of men in
search of it.

For miles the purple moorland rolls on without
a moving creature to break the stillness. Deep

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 287

ravines run down on either hand throudi oreen,
ferny sheep-walks, dotted with innumerable sheep.
These ravines in winter time, when the snow lies
deep on the hills, are, when not frost-bound, roar-
ing torrents. In the summer, huge blocks of stone
are scattered about in strange confusion, and a
tiny stream can scarcely find its way between
them. Lower down still can be seen, here and
there, a farm-house, in some sheltered glen, kept
green all the year round by the trickling moisture.
Further off still, in the valleys, are villages and
hamlets tenanted by hardy Welsh sheep-farmers
and dealers.

In the least-exposed corners of the sheep-walks
are folds built of loose, unmortared stones, in which
the sheep huddle to find shelter from the fury of
the frequent storms which sweep over the moun-
tains.

As the wealth of the hill farmers consists cliiefly
of sheep, if a dog once takes to worrying them, he
is either kept in durance vile, or killed. The habit
once acquired is never got rid of ; and after a
sheep-dog has once tasted blood, it becomes prac-
tically useless to the farmer. The quantity of
sheep that can be killed by such a dog in a short
time is almost incredible.

It may be imagined, therefore, with what feelings

288 A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS

the Berwyn farmers heard of sheep after sheep
being killed on their own and neighbouring farms,
by a dog which nobody owned, and which ran
loose on the mountains catering; for itself. De-
scending from the lonelier parts of the hills, it
would visit the sheep-walks and kill, as it appeared,
for the pure love of killing ; in most cases leaving
the mangled bodies on the spot.

Month after month ran by, and it still eluded
the vengeance of the indignant hillmen. The most
exaggerated accounts were current respecting its
size and ferocity. No two versions agreed as to its
colour, though all gave it enormous size. As it
afterwards turned out, it was a black and white
foxhound bitch.

Everybody carried a gun, but on the few occa-
sions that the dog came within shot, it appeared to
be shot proof. The loss of numerous sheep ' was
becoming serious ; in some instances the farmers
suffered heavily. It was the staple topic of con-
versation. From time to time, paragraphs, such as
the following, appeared in the papers published in
the neighbouring towns : —

"The Eapacious Dog. — The noted sheep de-
stroyer on the Berwyn hills still continues to
commit liis depredations, in spite of all efforts to
kill him.

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 289

" The last that was seen of him was on Sunday
morning, by Mr Jones on the Syria sheep-walk,
when the dog was in the act of killing a lamb.
Mr Jones was armed with a gun at the time,
and tried to get within gunshot range ; but
it seems that the animal can scent a man ap-
proaching him from a long distance, so he made
off immediately. After it became known to the
farmers and inhabitants of Llandrillo that he had
been seen, a large party went up to the mountain
at once, and were on the hills all day, but nothing
more was heard of him till late in the evening,
when he was again seen on Hendwr sheep-walk,
and again entirely lost. On Monday a number of
foxhounds were expected from Tanybwlch, and if a
sight of him can be obtained, no doubt he will be
hunted down and captured, and receive what he
is fully entitled to — capital punishment."

On a bright May morning, five months after the
first appearance of the sheep -destroyer, a pack,
consisting of a dozen couple of fox-dogs, with their
huntsman, started up the lane from Llandderfel to
the hills, followed by a motley crowd of farmers
and labourers, armed with guns and sticks, and
numbering many horsemen.

Up the lane till the hedges gave place to loose
stone walls, higher still till the stone walls dis-

290 A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS

appeared, and the lane became a track, and then a
lad came leaping down the hill, almost breathless,
with the news that the dog had been seen on a hill
some six miles away.

Up the mountain, down the other side, up hill
after hill, following the sheep-tracks, the cavalcade
proceeded, until we reached the spot where our
quarry had been last seen. A line of beaters was
formed across the bottom of a glen, and proceeded
up the hill. Up above was Dolydd Ceriog, the
source of the Ceriog, which came through a rent
in the moorland above.

A wilder scene could not be imagined. On
either side the hills rose up, until their peaks were
sharply defined against the blue. The steep sides
were covered with gorse and fern, with fantastic
forms of rock peering through. At the bottom the
infant Ceriog eddied and rushed over and among
rocks of every shape and size, forming the most
picturesque waterfalls. In front up the ravine the
numerous cascades leaped and glittered, growing
smaller and smaller, until the purple belt of moor-
land was reached.

The hounds quartered to and fro, and the men
shouted in Welsh and English. The hardy Welsh
horses picked their way unerringly over the cUhris.

" Yonder he is," was the cry, as up sprang the

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 291

chase a liuiiclred yards ahead. From stone to
stone, from crag to crag, through the water, through
the furze and fern fled the dog, and the foxhounds
catching sight and scent, followed fast. At first
they gained, but when the pursued dog found it
was terrible earnest for her, she laid herself well to
her work — mute.

Startled by the unusual noise, the paired grouse
flew whirring away. The sheep were scattered in
confusion, and a raven flew slowly away from a
carcase. Upward still we went, the footmen
having the best of it on the uneven ground —

" Upward still to wilder, lonelier regions,
Wliere the patient river fills its urn
From the oozy moorlands, 'mid the boulders ;
Cushioned deep in moss, and fringed with fern."

jSTow the hounds are over the crest, and soon we
followed them. We now had the bogs to contend
with, worse enemies than the rocks.

" Diawl ! John Jones, I am fast," we lieard and
saw an unfortunate pony up to its belly in the bog.
Another stumbles in a crevice and sends its rider
headlong. We footmen have still the best of it,
although it is no easy matter to run through the
heather.

We had now reached the other side of the
mountain, and were fast descending into the valley

292 A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS

of the Dee. There seemed a probabiHty of our
catching the quarry here ; but no, she left the
heather — much to my relief, it must be confessed
— and made for the valley, past a farm ; now well
in advance of her pursuers ; over the meadows ;
then, for a short distance, along the Bala and
Corwen line. Then past Cynwyd village, where
the crowd of people, and tlie various missiles sent
after her, failed to stop her. Then through
the churchyard, and along the road for some
distance.

Here a man breaking stones hurled his hammer
at the bitch, but missed her.

Turning again, she made for the hills, running
with unabated speed, although she had been hunted
for nearly ten miles. The original pursuers had
melted away, but we were reinforced by numbers of
others.

Here I obtained a pony and set off again.

By this time the hounds were in full cry up the
hillside. Mile after mile, over the hills we followed,
now only by scent, as the dog had made good use
of her time, while the hounds were hampered by
people crossing the scent at the village.

" The shades of night were falling fast," when we
came to a brook flowing from the moorland. Here
the scent was lost, and the wild dog was nowhere

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 293

to be seen. We held a council of war as to what
was to be done. I was the only horseman present
at first, but by-and-by the huntsman and others
came up, bog-besmeared, and in a vicious frame of
mind. We looked a queer group, as we sat in the
light of some dead fern that somebody had kindled.
Some were sitting on stones ; others kneeling down,
drinking from the brook ; some whipping the tired
dogs in, and others gesticulating wildly.

One thing was evident — nothing more could be
done that evening ; and the hounds w^ere taken to
their temporary home, to rest all the morrow, and
resume the hunt on the day after.

On the morrow, from earliest dawn, messengers
were coursing the glens in all directions, with invi-
tations to people far and near to come and assist in
the hunt. Eor myself, I was glad to rest my tired
limbs. Although pretty well used to mountain
work, I was quite done up ; still, I resolved to see
the end of the fun, and hired another pony.

The day after, the men kept pouring in to the
place of rendezvous, till I was sure the majestic
hills had never before witnessed such an assem-
blage. From far and near they came. Many, like
myself, were mounted upon Welsh ponies. We
commenced beating; and the Berwyns rang with
the unearthly yells of the crowd. We reached
I u

294 A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS

Cader Fronweu, one of the highest of the Berwyns,
without meeting with a trace.

Here I was put liors cle comhat by my pony
sticking fast in a bog ; and as every one was too
busy to help me, there I had to stay, and the hunt
swept on. Soon the noise of the beaters died away,
and I was left alone, sitting on a stone which peered
out of the bog, holding the bridle of my unfortunate
steed, and every now and then cutting heather and
pushing it under its belly, to prevent the poor crea-
ture sinking any deeper into the mire. Here's a
pretty fix, I thought.

Soon the mist which enveloped the summit of
Cader Fronwen came sweeping down the gorge in a
torrent of rain ; and, even if my pony had been
free, it would have been madness to stray from
where I was, as I could not see two yards before
me, and I did not know the paths.

By-and-by I heard them coming back, and then
saw them looming gigantic in the mist. After
having extricated my pony, as I was chilled and
wet through, I made the best of my way to Llan-
gynog, while the rest of the party — or multitude,
rather — made for the Llanrhaiadr hills, but as I
afterwards learnt, without success. Tired with a
hard and long day's work, the men separated, and
made off for their respective homes. No traces of

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 295

the dog had been found, although every likely hill
had been well scoured.

Some of the people averred that the devil must
be in the dog. The major part of the farmers
believed that the savage animal had been frightened
away, and most probably would not be met with
again for some time. Acting under this conviction,
the hounds were sent back by train the next
morning.

The morrow was beautifully fine ; and, little
expecting that I should see the death of the sheep-
worrier, I had gone for a ramble over the hills,
armed with my geological hammer. I was sitting
on a slab in an isolated quarry, watching tlie
varying tints of the hillside, as shadow and sun-
shine coursed each other over the tender spring
green of the grass, the darker green of the new
fern, and the warm yellow-brown of last year's
fronds, and admiring the contrast of the grey rocks
angrily jutting out amidst the loveliness, and the
whole crowned with the purple heather, rising above
a narrow belt of mist, when a man, gun in hand,
came clinking down the sloping rubbish, digging his
heels in at each step, and excitedly told us — the
two or three quarrymen and myself — that he had
seen the dog lying on a rock about a mile away.

A boy was despatched to summon the neighbour-

296 A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS

ing farmers. In a very short space of time about
fifty were on the spot, armed with guns of every
conceivable make and age. Stealthily creeping up
the hill, we were sent in different directions, so as
to surround the sheep-walk where she lay.

In half an hour's time a gradually lessening
circle was formed, all proceeding as silently as pos-
sible, and taking advantage of every tuft of fern or
stunted thorn, so as to get as near as possible before
arousing the sleeping dog.

There was a distance of about eighty yards be-
tween each man, when the brute rose up, and
stretched herself, showing her white and glistening
fangs.

Uttering a low growl as she became aware of her
position, she set off* in a long swinging gallop to-
wards the heather. Just in that direction there
appeared to be a man missing from the cordon, and
a wide gap was left through which it seemed pro-
bable she would escape, and a storm of shouts
arose. Just, however, as escape seemed certain, a
sheet of flame poured out from behind a clump of
thorn bushes and fern, and a loud report went
reverberating over the glens. The dog's neck turned
red, and she rolled over and over, uttering yelp
after yelp in her agony. There was a miscellaneous
charge from all sides. Crash came the butt-end of

A DOG HUNT ON THE BERWYNS 297

the gun which had shot her on her body, with such
force that the stock was splintered. Bang ! bang !
everybody tried to get a hit at her, even after she
was dead.

When life was quite extinct we all gathered
together, and a whoop of triumph awoke the echoes,
startling the lapwings on the moorland.

As we marched down to the village we tired a
volley in token of our success, and cheer after cheer
told of the gladness with which it was welcomed by
the villagers. The man who fired the lucky shot
was carried through the streets of the village on the
shoulders of two stout quarrymen, and the whole
population gave themselves a holiday and made
merry. A large subscription was started, and con-
tributed to handsomely, in order to pay for the
hounds and other expenses.

Upon examination the bitch was found to be
branded on the left side with the letter " P ; " so if
any of my readers have lost such a dog, they will
know what has become of it.

1 do not suppose that a more exciting chase was
ever witnessed since the old wolf-hunting days.

It may seem strange to many, as it did to me,
that foxhounds should chase one of their own breed,
but the fact remains that they did so.

ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING

BY THE AUTHOR OF " MOUNTAIN, MEADOW, AND MERE"

The maxim that one half the world does not know
how the other half lives may, with slight variation,
be applied to the world of sportsmen. The " sports-
man " is not of any particular class. The highest
in the land and tlie lowest may rub against each
other in the broad field of sport. This is peculiarly
true as regards the gentle art. Wandering by the
side of an unpreserved stream you may see my
lord casting a fly over this shallow ; and, twenty
yards further down, Tinker Ben seated by the side
of a chub hole watching his float circling round in
the eddy, and as the noble passes the boor an
honest angler's greeting may be interchanged, and
a light for the latter's pipe asked for and given.
It may be taken as a general rule that between
anglers who pursue their sport by fair means there
is a levelling freemasonry of the craft which is as
pleasant as it is right.

Between the fair fisherman and the poacher, there
298

ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING 299

is, however, a broad line of deniarcation — a line
which bars the interchanoe of even the commonest
civilities on the mutual ground of pursuing the
same object. The fair fisherman hates the man
who captures the finny tribe by unfair or illegal
means as strongly as a foxhunter hates a foxkiller,
or a strict Sabbatarian hates a sinner who enjoys
a Sunday afternoon's walk and the glimpses of
nature it may afford him. There is also a line
drawn between the man who fishes for amusement
alone and he who fishes for profit. The division
in the latter instance may not be so broad as it is
in the former, but, nevertheless, it is wide enough
to distinctly separate the two classes. Now T
think the fair and amateur angler is in a great
many instances unaware of the shifts and dodges
adopted by the poacher and the pothunter to fill
their pockets, and of the consequent hindrance to
his own sport. Therefore by w^ay of warning, of
information, and possible amusement, I have noted
down a few of the more singular instances which
liave come under my own observation.

Let anyone take a boat and row down the
sluggish Yare from the dirty old city of Norwich
as the shades of evening are darkening the river,
and he will see several uncouth, rough-looking
boats being slowly impelled down stream by

300 ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING

rougher looking men. He will notice that they
have short, stout rods and poles in the boats, and
if he watches them, he will presently see them
take up their stations by the margin. Driving
poles in the mud at the stems and sterns of their
boats, the men make them fast ; and, taking their
seats, proceed to " bob " for eels. A quantity of
earthworms are strung on worsted, and, after being
weighted, are suspended by a stout line from a
short thick rod. The solitary fisherman holds one
of these rods in each hand on each side of the
boat, just feeling the bottom with the bait, and
now and then pulling it up and shaking the eels,
whose teeth get entangled in the worsted, into the
boat. There he sits silent and uncommunicative,
the greater part of the night and in all weathers,
for the sake, perhaps, of, on the average, a shilling's
worth of eels each night. Altogether his berth
must be a lonely one. His companions take their
positions too far off to hold conversation with him,
and the splash of a water-rat or the flaps of the
canvas of a belated wdierry and the cheery good-
night of its steersman are the only sounds to be-
guile the tedium of his midnight watching.

Another mode of capturing eels is by " eel pick-
ing " in the lower waters of the Yare near Cantley.
Tlie man, armed with his eel spear, takes his stand

ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING 301

in the bows of his craft, and, stealing along by the
edge of the reeds, plunges his spear at random in
the mud. He uses his spear also as the means of
propelling his tiny boat. I have seen four or five
boats following each other along the side of the
river in a queer-looking procession.

Those centres of interest to the angler — the
iSTorfolk broads — are, alas ! the strongholds of
poaching. Norfolk anglers plead their great ex-
panse of water as an excuse for " liggering " or
trimmering to an enormous extent. Taking Nor-
folk anglers as a class, if they can " ligger " they
will. The amount of destruction is something
wonderful. The only time I ever yielded to the
temptation of going with a friend " liggering," I am
thankful to say, w^e caught nothing, and I am not
in a hurry to repeat the experiment. Yarrell gives
an account of four days' sport (?) at Heigham
Sounds and Horsea, where in 1834, in the month
of March, his informants caught in that space of
time 256 pike weighing altogether 1135 lbs.
What wonder that it is now difficult to get really
good sport at these places with rod and line !

My favourite fish, the tench, has a bad habit of
baskinof on the surface of some of these broads on
hot sunniier's days in weedy bays, where he deems
himself perfectly secure. But the amphibious

302 ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING

Broadsman paddles quietly up to him, and actually
scoops him out with his hand. You may touch his
body with your hand and he shall not move, but if
you touch his tail he darts away.

I have seen a somewhat similar thing in shallow
pools in Shropshire. When the big carp come to
the side to spawn, their bodies are half out of the
water, and they may be approached and shovelled
out with a spade. In the reeds adjoining a carp
pool I once found a murderous instrument which
was used by a gang of sawyers at work in the
adjacent wood, for destroying the basking carp.
It consisted of a large flat piece of wood, in which
were set long nails like the teeth of a garden rake.
This was attached to a long pole, and woe betide
the unfortunate carp on whose back it descended.

Groping for trout in the shallow streams is a
well-known amusement of country boys ; but the
dastardly and cruel practice of liming a brook is
not now so often resorted to as it used to be. I
have seen it done in a mountain brook, when, on
account of my extreme youth, I have been power-
less to prevent it, and the schoolboy notion of
honour prevented my "peaching." A shovelful of
quicklime is taken up the brook to some shallow
ford, and then thrown into the water and triturated
so that the stream carries it in a milk-white stream

ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING 303

downwards. In a short time the poachers follow
it, and pick up the trout, which are floating dead
on the surface, or swimming in circles on the top
of the water, with scorched and blinded eyeballs.
The lime penetrates into every crevice of the
stream bed, and if it does not kill every trout
within its range, it cruelly tortures all. I well re-
member the sickening sense of shame that crept
over me as, an unwilling participator in the outrage,
I crept over the mossy ground, when the noise made
by every water-ouzel that took wing and every
sheep that leaped dow^n the hill side seemed to
herald the approach of a keeper, with awful penal-
ties of the law in his train.

Eiverting the course of a brook, and emptying
the pools of their water, and afterwards of their fish,
is a long operation, and therefore not so frequently
resorted to ; but that poaching instrument called the
twopole net I have known to clear many a nice little
pool in a stream of its spotted denizens.

Do my readers know what a cleeching net is ?
It is in effect a magnified landing-net at the end of
a long pole, and its use is to grab fish from under
clumps of weed and overhanging banks. I once
had one made for the purpose of catching bait, and
a ludicrous incident occurred to a friend of mine
who used it. He plunged it in too far from the

304 ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING

side where the water was deeper than he imagined,
and the consequence was that he fell forward, his
feet still on the bank, but his hands resting on the
top of the pole within a foot of the water, into
which he gradually subsided, in spite of our efforts
to pull him back by the slack of his trousers. I
have seen the cleeching net used in a very effective
manner by bargees on canals. As their vessel is
towed along, they put the net into the water along-
side the bows, and walk back to the stern as the
boat moves, so as to keep the net in the same posi-
tion. The rush of the water, displaced by the pas-
sage of the barge, drives a good many fish into the
net, and I have even known fair-sized pike to be
captured in this way.

Once I was cruising down the Severn, and had
moored the canoe under some bushes in a very
secluded part of the river to take my midday rest.
Presently I saw two men in coracles coming down
the river. They stopped just opposite me, and
commenced to net the river with a small meshed
net. They paid the net out in a semi-circle, and
then, beating the water with their paddles, they
closed and completed the circle ; and with their
coracles side by side hauled their net in. It was a
caution to see the fish they caught. Great chub of
five, and one of nine pounds' weight, roach, pike.

ON SOME ODD WAYS OF FISHING 305

and dace. In half an hour they had caught a great
number. They looked rather frightened when I
shot out from my hiding-place and examined their
sport and the net.

I have not space to chat about setting night
lines, in which art the Norfolk yachtsmen are no
mean proficients ; of smelting in the Yare ; of net-
ting the weedy pools in Cheshire with a flue net ;
of setting hoop nets for tench baited with a bunch
of flowers or a brass candlestick, which attract the
too curious fish ; of eel bays and weirs, and the
large eel nets set in the Bure from below Acle to
Yarmouth ; of leistering salmon and snaring pike ;
of casting nets used for unlawful purposes ; of
snatch-hooks and salmon roe, and other like deadly
means of compassing the destruction of the finny
tribe ; but I fancy I have said enough to call to
the angler's remembrance that his rod and line have
formidable rivals, and that it behoves him to do all
in his power to suppress and punish illegal and
unfair sport.

SHOOTING

The 1st of September is a day more looked forward
to by the general sporting public than any other.
August 12 th and October 1st may be eagerly anti-
cipated by the wealthy sportsman, but September 1st
is the day most generally looked forward to. Nor is
the reason difficult to discover. Partridge-shooting
is comparatively the cheapest of sports. So long
as vermin is kept down by trapping, and the fields
properly bushed in the season, to prevent the birds
being netted, a fair number are sure to be found.
There are few better or more exciting sports than
partridge-driving. People who have never tried
and those who have tried and failed, affect to despise
it ; but, in spite of all, it is an excellent sport, if
only for the reason that all can join in it. The old
and young, the weak and strong, and even ladies,
honour the stands with their presence ; though this
cannot be said to add to the accuracy of the shooting,
for partridge-driving arrangements are usually made
so as to arrive at the first set of stands somewhere
about eleven. Here the head-keeper is met, who,
306

SHOOTING 307

after giving directions about watching particular
lines, and begging that gentlemen will not put up
their heads too soon, but keep down and " give the
birds a chance," as he calls it, on the lucus a non
lucendo principle, I suppose, mounts his old horse
and trots off after the drivers, receiving, first of all,
you may be sure, some chaff from the youngsters
about his horse and his seat, to which he good-
humouredly rejoins that " he hopes they will shoot
better than he can ride."

The party now disperse to their several stands,
each one accompanied by his loader, and, as you
stroll down with your old loader, lie greatly amuses
you by his observations on the party and shrewd
forecast of their respective powders. In a short
time the distant sound of a horn is lieard, which
makes your old man break off his stories and reflec-
tions altogether, as he knows it is the signal for the
line of drivers to start ; you yourself peer eagerly
through the screen, though really knowing that
there is no chance of a shot for a long time yet.
Presently a series of unearthly yells are heard, as
some obstinate covey rises and breaks back over the
drivers' heads. And here let me remark that the
arrangement of a successful drive requires a great
deal of forethought and knowledge ; the wind and
sun must be studied, and also the habits of the

308 SHOOTING

birds. Partridges are thorough Tories, and like to
take the same line that their fathers before them
did, so it is useless to try to drive them far out of it.

Presently, as you are looking through the screen,
a dark object comes into view that appears rather
like a bumble bee ; in another second you perceive
it is an old cock French partridge, when, just as you
are in the act of firing, down drops the bird, and
commences running like a racehorse. Naturally
you bring your gun down, but the old loader
wiiispers, " Shoot un, sir, shoot un ; he be the
blarmed old cock, and mayhap, if you kills un,
t'others will be obliged to fly ; " so you pot him, and
the cloud of feathers that comes out is wonderful.
A novice would think that it was blown to bits ;
but the fact is, nothing of the kind has happened,
the cloud being caused by the great thickness of
plumage. It is very curious to shoot one in snow :
the stream of feathers lying on it looks as if a small
pillow had been ripped open.

Soon a distant cry of " Mark over ! " showing
that a covey has risen and is coming right for the
stands, puts every one on the qui vive. Here they
come straight for the man on the right, and you
feel almost inclined to envy his chance, when sud-
denly the covey mount straight up like so many
sky-rockets ; your friend, fresh to the sport, has

SHOOTING 309

put np his head just a minute or so too soon, and
the birds saw him. Firing a hasty right and left
as they pass over, he is greatly surprised at a bird
falling nearly on the top of him, the fact being
that the two he shot at were clean missed, but one
of the hindmost of the covey flew into the shot.
And now the scene begins to be very interesting ;
the birds are beginning to run out of the roots on
to the large stubble in front, not by ones and twos,
but by twenties at a time, the French birds of
course being first. It is most curious to notice
their dodges — how they run about looking for
places to hide in, and when they discover the
least shelter drop down into it at once ; but you
cannot spare much attention to them, as the coveys
begin to rise thick and fast, and cries of " Mark
over ! " are incessant. The work now begins to be
very exciting, and the fusillade kept up reminds
one of the commencement of a general action, so
sustained is it. Some of the younger hands,
thorouglily overcome by the excitement of their
first drive, are firing wildly, as if they thought they
should not have a second chance. By way of con-
trast, look at the man stationed three or four
stands from you, and see the machine-like regularity
with which he knocks the birds over ; no flurry of
any sort, the gun brought up easily, the two sharp

I X

310 SHOOTING

reports, and a brace of birds tumbling ; the empty
piece handed to the loader, and the other gun taken
and discharged in the same cool way with the
like unfailing result. Both master and man are
perfect specimens of their kind, the former as a
shot and the latter as a loader. And now, as the
drivers get further through the roots, the hares
begin to bolt out, running wildly in every direction,
utterly bewildered at the shouts and yells that
greet them. Not many are shot at except by those
who have utterly muffed the birds, and are anxious
to show that they can hit something. Next, as the
drivers come out on to the stubble, the French
birds begin to get up by ones and twos. Many of
these get off, for they rise from such queer places,
often close to the stands.

The first drive being over, the head-keeper comes
up to see the game collected, pausing by the stands
of those who have been unlucky, and gravely telling
their loaders that they " need not trouble to pick
up their master's birds," as he always sees to that ;
whereupon very frequently the occupier tries to
explain how the birds twisted or the sun was in
his eyes, or makes one of the thousand excuses
that men give for missing. The game being now
collected, the party stroll off to tlie next set of
stands, and the same thing goes on again, with the

SHOOTING 311

exception that some of the excited sportsmen cool
down a little, and, in consequence, improve in their
shooting. Driving is the least fatiguing of any
sport to the shooters, the drivers having to go such
long rounds to their different starting-points that
there is not the least need to hurry from stand to
stand, but you can pick your way and go by the
easiest route. The actual shooting, however, is
difficult ; it requires skill and coolness to get the
exact knack of the thing. I well remember, after
one drive, a man, who really was a remarkably
good shot over dogs or walking up birds, coming to
me with an expression of the greatest disgust on
his face, and saying, " I have actually missed eight
shots running ! " However, he soon got into the
way of it ; but at first you do not discover the pace
the birds go at, and are rather bothered by their
coming right at you.

After a morning's driving very good sport can
be got in the afternoon by going out with a couple
of steady spaniels after the French partridges.
You will find these birds have hidden themselves
in the most wonderful places, under clods and
small lumps of hedge-cuttings, in tufts of grass,
holes by gate-posts ; in fact, there is no telling
where they may have got to. A rabbit-hole is a
very favourite place ; so if one of your dogs seems

312 SHOOTING

inclined to stop and scratch at one, do not tell
your keeper to " call the tiresome beast off," as he
is always after rabbits, for it is ten to one that
a Frenchman has taken refuge there. You will
often find that the birds have got down almost to
the end of the hole. However, they give capital
sport, as they rise out of such unexpected places
that you must always be ready for a shot. Besides
the sport, it is an excellent way of keeping these
" pests " down ; for they really are " pests," driving
about the English birds in the breeding season, and
bothering your dogs awfully in the beginning of the
shooting season by their habits of running ; indeed,
until driving commences, you hardly ever kill a
Frenchman ; but this is not much of a loss, as
when they are shot they are not worth eating.
One thing, you can send them away as presents to
people who do not know their merits, and are very
much pleased with them on account of their size and
the beauty of their plumage, doubtless putting down
their hardness and want of flavour to their cook !

But partridge-shooting _^9r;?' excellence is over dogs.
It is a treat indeed to see a brace of well-broken
pointers or setters at work : the speed with which
they quarter their ground, and yet their perfect
steadiness ; to see the dog that finds the game stop
dead in his gallop, limbs all rigid, as if he was

SHOOTING 313

turned into stone, ears pricked and eyes almost
starting out of his head with excitement ; then his
companion backing steadily, the attitude the same?
but no eagerness shown ; the rapid shots, and the
dogs both down in an instant, — all this is delight-
ful to witness, but is very seldom seen now-a-days.
After the first week dogs are very little use, the
birds will not lie to them ; high farming, with its
machine-cut stubbles, clean ploughs, and widely-
drilled root-crops, has almost abolished shooting
over dogs. The birds will not wait on the bare
stubbles, and if you get them into roots, the rattle
of the leaves when the dogs are at work is a signal
for their flight. The only chance is where seeds
have been sown in barley ; then the reaping-machine
cannot be set very low or it clogs, and in this there
is fair lying ; but as for the fine stubbles knee-high
that our fathers enjoyed, and the broadcast turnips
— why, they have gone, and pointers and setters
have, alas, nearly disappeared with them.

When the birds have become so wild that they
will not lie to the dogs at all, the best and most
sportsmanlike way is to walk them up ; but to do
this with any success requires a man to be in excel-
lent training. Walking over fallows deeply ploughed
by steam-power is no joke, and the birds invariably
select these. Your plan is to have about four guns

314 SHOOTING

and five keepers or beaters, and take the fields in
line, of course driving in the direction of any pieces
of cole-seed, mustard, or roots that you may have
on your ground ; for when once tlie birds get into
these, particularly into cole-seed, they will remain
the rest of the day. It is surprising how many are
bagged when walking : sometimes the coveys seem
bothered by the line of men, and will rise within an
easy shot ; but they often seem to know by some
sort of intuition the bad shot of the party, and will
allow him to get fairly into the middle of them,
when they rise with a rush, and fly off none the
worse for his too hurried shots.

In this sport there is not half the firing to be
heard which there is in " driving ; ' but the deadly
single shot or the steady double is heard pretty
regularly, and the bag at the end of the day is
usually heavier. You commonly find that a very
fair bag is made before entering the cole-seed or
roots where the coveys have principally gone ; but
when this cover is entered, unless very unlucky, you
may fairly reckon on the bag being doubled, for the
birds cannot run much, and are forced to rise fairly,
so that even a moderate shot ought to be pretty
sure of liis birds. One great advantage of this kind
of shooting is that so few birds get away wounded ;
as a rule they are either dropped at once or get off

SHOOTING 315

scot-free, whereas in " driving " an immense number
go away wounded ; and if there are any crows in
the district, it is most curious to see them on the
day after a " drive " hunting the fields regularly
and systematically after the cripples.

There is still another method of partridge-shoot-
ing, but this mode is only adopted by wealthy
cits, and brand-new peers. The keepers, with
a strong force of beaters, are sent out to drive
the birds into cover, and, when there, men are
left as stops to keep the birds from straying
out ; then about twelve the party drive up in
wagonettes, well wrapped up, and with plenty of
foot-warmers, &c., to the nearest piece of cover, get
out, take their guns, and walk right through it,
blazing at everything that shows itself ; when they
have done one field, they get into their carriages
and drive to the next, where the same amusement
is carried on ; then comes hot lunch at the nearest
keeper's house, which lasts for an hour or more,
and the afternoon sport is a repetition of the
morning's. There is no stopping to pick up the
game, — keepers are left behind for that, and are
told to take their guns, so as to stop any cripples,
the " writing between the lines " being in this case
that they are to kill all they can, so as to make the
bag sound better at the end of the day.

316 SHOOTING

As partridge-shooting is one of the cheapest
amusements, pheasant-shooting, on the otlier hand,
is one of the dearest. What with feeding the
young birds and doctoiing them, and the constant
watching they require when they are turned into
the cover ; and lastly, the large staff of beaters, the
calculation of ten shillings per head for every one
killed is not far beyond the mark. Pheasant-
shooting can really only be managed by one
method, and that is by having a body of well-
trained beaters ; so cunning are these birds that
there is no chance of giving your friends the
desired sport, if you do not have them. It is true
a very pleasant day may often be had on the out-
skirts of your grounds by going round with some
well-broken spaniels ; but for real pheasant-shooting
beaters are indispensable. A well- arranged and
successful beat requires almost as much general-
ship as an Ashanti campaign. The covers must
be watched from the earliest season, but the
watchers must show themselves as little as pos-
sible ; if the pheasants come out, they should put
them back by rattling a stick or shaking some
branches, for by showing themselves the chances
are that the pheasants would fly off at once, but
the rattle of a stick merely makes them run back
into cover. Then the corners where the}^ are to

SHOOTING 317

rise must be netted most carefully, perfect silence
being kept, and as little noise of any kind made as
possible. When the beat has actually commenced
not a point must be left unguarded, the smallest
ditch or grip with grass in it must have a " stop "
at it, and any hare or rabbit runs that there may
be must be stopped also. The boys who act as
" stops " have to be well drilled in their parts, just
to keep a subdued kind of rattle with their two
short sticks, and by no means to strike the bushes
in cover — merely to use their sticks as a kind of
Castanet. In fact, pheasants are at once the
keeper's greatest pride and greatest plague, from
the time when he has to guard the wild birds'
nests against egg-stealers, and to watch those
brought up under hens — ever on the look-out for
gapes or croup when they are quite young, and
then when older, and turned into the covers, on the
watch for poachers or vermin, until the grand
shooting-day ; and even until that is over his
anxiety is unceasing. It is very difficult to pre-
vent them straying, particularly in a district where
there are many oaks, as they will, however well
fed, roam after acorns. And then to insure there
being a proper quantity of pheasants in the required
places is no easy work. With all the pains pos-
sible, it is extraordinary how they will stray away.

318 SHOOTING

Two instances of this straying propensity came
under my individual notice.

I was staying with a large party at a friend's
house for pheasant-sl looting, and as the covers had
not been beaten before, my friend was sanguine of
some first-rate sport, knowing the large number of
pheasants that had been reared, and the troul)le
that had been taken with them. We went out, and
everything seemed to promise an excellent day's
shooting ; the pheasants were all reported safe the
night before, and " stops " had been sent out early
to prevent them straying, nets put down, and all
complete. Well, the first cover that was beaten
yielded only about thirty or forl-y pheasants, instead
of three or four times that number, and the second
and third the same. The host looked much annoyed,
and his keeper almost heart-broken ; and this kind
of sport continued until the afternoon, when my
friend called up the keeper, and in desperation
ordered him to beat a small covert standing by
itself about three-quarters of a mile off. The man
said he did not think it was any use, as no pheas-
ants were ever there ; however, as his master wished
it, it should be done, and he sent off some men to
put down the nets very carefully. When we came
up the under-keeper said there certainly were some
pheasants there, though he had never known them

SHOOTING 319

to be in that place before ; so we began, and very
soon found that they had nearly all migrated from
their usual quarters to this place, above four hun-
dred being killed in this small cover. How they
got there no one could guess ; there were not any
connecting hedgerows or ploughed fields, and they
had roosted in their usual places.

The second case occurred to myself. I wished to
beat a small cover of my own of about four acres,
as we knew^ there were some pheasants there, and
being an outlying one it was not altogether safe ;
so I gave orders that the place should be netted,
and " stops," &c , sent out, and then went and beat
it, but to my great surprise found scarcely anything.
The keeper w^as utterly puzzled too ; we tried all
the likely spots round with no result, and I came to
the conclusion that some poachers must have beaten
the wood very early that day. However, as we
were going off, the quick eye of my keeper detected
a pheasant running in an old grassy lane near, and
we resolved to try this ; and w^ell it was we did ;
every bush and tuft of grass seemed to hold a pheas-
ant, and we made a capital bag, killing all but one,
to my keeper's great satisfaction. Several more
were got than the number he had mentally put
down for the cover to yield ; however, in this case
we at length detected the way they had got out.

320 SHOOTING

The end of the wood had been netted, and a " stop "
put on one side where there was an old ditch ; but
on the other a little grip with long grass in it, lead-
ing from the cover across a field to the old lane, had
been left unguarded, as the net was tliought to have
been fastened down so closely that nothing could
get out ; but the pheasants found the weak place,
and undoubtedly strayed by it.

To insure a good day's pheasant-shooting, thor-
oughly trained beaters are absolutely necessary ;
and it is equally needful that the guns should remain
where they are posted, or if they are to move, only
do so exactly as the head-keeper directs. Nothing
is more annoying, both to master and keeper, than
having a good day spoiled because two or three of
the guns will get together to hear or tell the last
new story, and consequently let the pheasants escape
by not being at their proper posts. If you have
the good fortune to be placed by the net at the end
of the beat, you will find that, besides having the
best place for sport, great amusement can be derived
by noticing the behaviour of the various kinds of
game as they come up to it. Soon after you have
taken your position, the rattle of sticks is heard,
showing that the beat has begun, and shortly a sup-
pressed shout indicates that a rabbit is up ; for the
best-trained beaters in England cannot resist giving

SHOOTING 321

a shout at the sight of one, and if they are a scratch
lot, the yells that greet its appearance could not be
exceeded if half a dozen foxes had been unkennelled
at once. They will allow a pheasant or woodcock
or, in fact, any other kind of game, to get away
silently; but a rabbit is too much for them — why,
I do not know ; but such is the fact. In a short
time something may be heard coming very rapidly
towards the net, and in a minute a splendid old
cock-pheasant appears, who runs right up to it ;
then, suddenly catching sight of you, back he goes
like a racehorse, and you hear the whirr as he rises
on meeting the line of beaters, and the cry of " Mark
back," succeeded as a rule by two rapid shots, some-
times only by a single one, followed by a crash as
he comes down through the trees. Next a lot of
hen-pheasants come pattering along, crouching as
they run with outstretched neck. These come up
very quietly, and begin to examine the net closely,
walking along it, trying whether they can find a
place to pass underneath, and, if they do, they
infallibly lead all the rest away ; but, failing this,
they squat down and become at once almost in-
visible ; so exactly does their plumage assimilate
itself to the dead leaves that, unless you happen to
catch their eye, you would never detect them.
Then come a lot of young cocks in a terrible

322 SHOOTING

flurry, running here, there, and everywhere, occa-
sionally twisting round like teetotums ; these, too,
at length squat, picking out tufts of brake or grass,
where their dark heads are covered, and their back
and long tail-feathers just match the stuff they are
lying in. Presently some hares come along, and
these are all listening so intently to the beaters,
and looking back as w^ell, that they blunder against
the net, greatly to their astonishment ; for they sit
up and stare at it, and then trot away to see if they
can make off by one of their usual runs ; failing in
this, they lie down in some of the thickest cover,
hoping to escape by this plan. Xumerous rabbits
come hopping along, and, meeting the net, turn and
hide themselves in stumps or any other place they
can find. And really, as the beaters come nearer and
nearer, you would never imagine the quantity of game
there is ; a novice would at once declare there was
none, so absolutely motionless does it remain until
it is forced up ; and then, although you have been
at the post all the time, the quantity seems quite
astonishing. Pheasants begin to whirr up, at first
by twos and threes, and then almost by scores at a
time, and the firing is incessant ; it seems now that
every tuft of grass or piece of fern has a pheasant
under it ; but in spite of tlie beaters, several old
cocks run back between them, being far too clever

SHOOTING 323

to rise and be shot at, knowing that a beater may
almost as well strike at a tlasli of lighting as at an
old cock running-.

I may here remark that some of these old cocks
w411 often escape being killed season after season by
some dodge or other. In a cover of my own there
was an old cock-pheasant who lived between six
and seven years, always escaping the guns. We
used to drive this cover regularly to the same point,
and just before the beaters had finished, this old
fellow would get up close to the outside hedge, ris-
ing above the underwood as if he would give an
excellent shot ; but, just as you thought he was as
good as bagged, closing his wings, he would drop
into the field close to the hedge, turn round, and
run back like a racer, hopping over the fence again
into the cover just behind the beaters. He prac-
tised this dodge successfully for several years ; but
at length the keeper complained so much that he
disturbed the cover, and w^ould not let any other
bird come near, that I had to devise means to kill
him, which was effected by driving the cover the
opposite way to wdiich he w^as accustomed. The
old fellow w^as so bewildered that he rose, gave a
fair shot, and was killed. A more splendid bird
than he was could scarcely have been seen — in full
plumage, a broad and perfect wliite ring round his

324 SHOOTING

neck, and spurs an inch long, and as sharp and hard
as if they had been made of iron.

Very amusing it is, too, to watch the shooters.
There stands one man, picking his birds, and dread-
ing a miss for the sake of his reputation ; here is a
greedy shot, firing at everything, blowing much of
his game to pieces, for fear anyone else should get
a shot ; and again, there is the keeper's liorror and
detestation — a man who sends off his birds wounded,
as a rule hitting them, but very seldom killing one
clean, with the exception of those that he utterly
annihilates. Lookers-on are apt to laugh at sports-
men for missing pheasants, so large do they look,
and such apparently easy shots do they give ; and
until a person tries himself, he has no idea how
fast they really do fly, or how easy it is to miss
them.

Eabbit-shooting is capital sport ; indeed, none can
be better for affording sport to a large Christmas-
party in the country. Everybody enjoys it, and
brightens up at the idea, from the schoolboy home
for the holidays — who has been in and out of the
house scores of times already to see how the
weather looked, whether the beagles would be
ready, or on some other wonderful pretext — to the
old sportsman, who did not know whether he should
come, but cannot resist the temptation, merely

SHOOTING 325

trying at tirst to save his dignity by saying he
sliould just come and see if any woodcocks were
sprung, and ending in being as enthusiastic about
it as the youngest. The " form " displayed by the
shooters is diverse. There is the elderly gentleman
who gets away by himself to a (|uiet corner, and is
found at lunch-time with three or four mangled
rabbits, none of them having been more than a
couple of yards from his gun when they were shot.
Then there is the man who will always fire both
barrels ; if he misses with the lirst, of course he
tries with his second ; but if he does hit the first
time, discharges the second barrel as a sort of salute
in honour of his successful first. And here is an
amateur — this one usually a schoolboy or 'Varsity
man — who fires at whatever he gets the slightest
glimpse of ; a robin flitting about amongst the
brambles is safe to have a shot fired at it ; and in-
deed the dogs, keepers, and shooters have all, in their
turns, very narrow escapes from this gentleman : the
position he has held is well and distinctly marked
by the cut-down underwood and well-peppered
trunks of trees. Then there is the sportsman,
generally a great swell, who fires at everything
he sees in the distance, and claims all game killed
within a radius of a quarter of a mile. He cannot
be induced to shoot at a rabbit or any game within

I Y

326 SHOOTING

a reasonable distance, his excuse always being,
" Choke-bore, my dear fellow — blow it to bits ; "
the fact being that he never hits anything except
by accident, and fancies by this plan that he is not
detected.

I once saw a capital trick played on a person of
this kind by a couple of mischievous schoolboys.
They procured a dead rabljit, and fixed it firmly in
a lifelike position by means of sticks, &c. ; then
tying a long piece of string to each foreleg, they
went and ensconced themselves behind two large
trees in the cover, one on each side of the road,
about seventy yards from the gentleman's stand.
Putting down the rabbit, one of them drew it slowly
across the road, the other giving a shout, which
made their friend look round and immediately shoot
at it, when the string was jerked and the rabbit fell
on its side. Whilst he was reloading and fiddling
with his gun, the rabbit was drawn away, and in a
short time the game was played again ; in the end
about twenty shots were fired at it by the victim,
not one of which touched it, and the string was only
cut once. When lunch-time came, and the keeper
went round to collect the rabbits, he was saluted by
the gentleman with :

" Well, Smith, got my eye in to-day. Never saw
such a gun ; killed at least thirty rabbits straight off

SHOOTING 327

crossing the road up there. Must liave heen one of
their resfular runs."

o

Off went the keeper to pick them up, and of
course detected the trick at once. His ejood manners
\YOukl not allow him to laugh there ; so he had to
make a bolt for it, and, to my great surprise, I saw
this staid and serious head-keeper burst through the
cover into the ride I was in, and begin to shout with
laughter in the most uproarious manner. For a
moment I thought he had gone mad, and on walking
up to him could get nothing out of him, except be-
tween his fits of laughter, " Beg pardon, sir, but them
' limbs,' them two ' limbs I ' " At last he got suffi-
ciently calm to tell me what had occurred, and T
need hardly say that I laughed almost as heartily.
The indignation of the victim was great when he
discovered the trick, and he stalked off to the house
at once ; and perhaps it was well that he did, for
the two young scamps' account of the whole thing
was enough to send anyone into fits. It is needless
to say that they ever after occupied the foremost
place in the keeper's affections.

It is, indeed, a very pretty sight to see a pack
of beagles working in cover. How they try every
tuft of grass or rushes ! Soon you notice that they
are working more eagerly, and some begin to lash
their tails, and suddenly out bolts " bunny " from

328 SHOOTING

his seat, sure to be saluted by a hasty shot from
some one, not the least to its detriment, but a very
narrow escape for tlie leading dogs. Away go the
pack, making the w^oods ring with their tongues.
Excited individuals race after them, often with their
guns on full cock, and their fingers on the trigger.
What their ideas may be in this performance is
difficult to say, but I suppose it is the effect of that
temporary insanity that seizes many people at the
sight of a rabbit. As a rabbit invariably runs a
ring, and returns to its starting-place, there is not
the least use, except for the sake of the exercise, in
trying to follow it ; and the first one put up is safe
to run his ring, as the good shots will not fire at
liim, that the youngsters may have a chance, and
the indifferent shots are sure to miss the first
through excitement. You hear plenty of shots
wliilst the dogs are running, as other rabbits,
frightened by their noise and passage, bolt from
their seats and scuttle about everywhere. Besides
these, a few old cock-pheasants, who have strayed
from the preserves, are sure to be found and shot.
You shortly hear a shot from the cover the rabbit
was found in, followed by " Who-whoop ! " showing
that the hunted one has been killed.

The keeper then begins to draw afresh, and you
may notice that certain of the older sportsmen are

SHOOTING 329

very attentive to the liouuds whilst drawing, the
reason being, as is soon evident, that they hope a
woodcock may be flushed, and their hopes are
usually realised. If you mark one beagle poking
about by himself, sniffing along, evidently on scent,
yet not opening, you may be pretty sure he is on a
woodcock. But very soon another rabbit is found,
and away goes the pack, this time not quite so
steadily, as the number of rabbits up tempt the
younger hounds after them. However, this adds
(except in the opinion of the staid elders) to the
sport ; and soon, by the noise of tlie beagles' tongues
and the rapid shooting, it appears as if every hound
had a rabbit to himself. There certainly must be
some " sweet little cherub " sitting " up aloft," who
protects rabbit-shooters and beagles, so reckless
does the shooting always appear. Here you see an
excited youth fire at a rabbit not a yard in front of
the dog. How he manages to miss both seems in-
comprehensible, but he does. There another rushes
round a corner, and blazes both barrels at one, just
in a line with another gun, and only a few yards
from him ; Init he escapes too. In a word, rabbit-
shooting with beagles is one of the most amusing,
but at the same time one of the most danoerous,
sports going.

The advance of civilisation and cultivation has

330 SHOOTING

almost entirely spoiled snipe and wild-fowl shooting.
In the districts where, thirty years ago, ducks might
be found by dozens and snipe in swarms, the former
are extinct ; and as for the latter, if there happens
to be one, it flies off before you are w^ithin lialf a
mile of it, as if it was ashamed of being seen in such
a place. I well remember the capital shooting I
used to get in Berkshire, There was a large swampy
common of several hundred acres, all rough sedgy
grass and rushes ; on one side w^as a wide ditch full
of twists and turns, with high reedy banks, and at
the further end a narrow tributary of the Thames,
with beds of water-rushes on both sides ; and on the
other side were acres of small meadows of from six
to ten acres, divided by high hawthorn hedges and
deep wide ditches. It was a real " happy hunting-
ground " for anyone fond of the sport, and many
have been the long days that I and my retriever
passed on it. The common itself was invariably
full of snipe, and they behaved themselves properly
in those days, not rising and going off in whisps
directly you appeared, but trying to be shot at
decently, like respectable birds. Then the ditch and
river were sure to hold ducks ; and after you had
hunted the common, it was very exciting work,
creeping up the various well-known curves and
turns in the ditch, where the ducks usually remained,

SHOOTING 331

my dog creeping after me, quite as miicli interested
as I was myself, and showing most wonderful intelli-
gence in avoiding stepping on any little pieces of
thin ice or anything that would make a noise ; then
the careful look over the bank, and if the stalk had
been successful, the rapid double shot at the ducks,
as they rose with a rush, followed by the drop of
killed or wounded, if the shot had been lucky,
and the subsequent hunt after the cripples, if unfor-
tunately there were any, for nothing on earth is so
difficult to get as a wounded duck. The way they
will dive, and the time they can keep under water,
only rising and putting the tip of their beak up to
get air, and the extraordinary places they get into,
will puzzle the best retriever, and weary out his
master's patience, unless he has a very large stock
ef that, or obstinacy, in his composition. But very
often, when I peered cautiously over the bank, the
ducks could just be seen swimming away down a
further reach of the ditch, making for the larger
stream below, and then it was a race as to which
should get there first, as the cunning birds knew as
well as I did that if they once got there, and into
the reed-beds, they were comparatively safe. It
was no joke, running as hard as you could go, in a
stooping position, for several hundred yards ; and
often they would escape me, an unfortunate step on

332 SHOOTING

a piece of thin ice, or a stick, making them rise, and
I then had the pleasnre of seeing them fly off and
drop into a reed-bed half a mile off, which I could
not get at.

I had often been warned that the ditch was
dangerous, and proved it on one occasion, very
nearly to my cost. Some ducks dropped into a
rushy pool in a field on the opposite side of it, and
as I should have had a walk of a mile to get round
to them, I determined to try and cross, fortunately
for myself selecting a place where there was a stout
young willow ; so putting down my gun, and catch-
ing firm hold of the tree, I put one leg into the
ditch, and soon found, though it passed down
through the mud above my knee, that no bottom
was to be found, and on trying to withdraw it,
discovered that my leg was fixed as if in a vice.
Fortunately the willow was strong, and having one
leg on the bank, after pulling until I thought the
other must be dislocated, I succeeded in extricating
myself.

But the meadows on the further side were where
the best sport used to be got. These, as I have
said, were divided by laige haw^thorn hedges fully
twelve feet high, and intersected by deep ditches
full of reeds, with an open pool here and there.
The meadows, too, had narrow gutters cut in them

SHOOTING 333

to act as drains, I believe, and tliese abounded with
snipe ; and after you had flushed the common ones,
if you hunted carefully a good many jacks could be
found. The ditches were very good for ducks. By
help of the hedges you could get up to them un-
perceived, and many a fine mallard I got here.
Hares were also fond of the rough grass, and par-
tridges might usually be found in the middle of the
day. I remember bagging one December day six
and a half couple of ducks, eleven couple of snipe,
besides some jacks, three hares, and three and a
half brace of birds. This does not sound much,
but to me it was a thoroughly enjoyable day. No
keeper following at one's heels, full of advice, but
just going where and how I pleased ; then the suc-
cessful stalk after ducks, and the unexpected luck
wdth partridges and hares, in addition to the snipe,
have indelibly impressed this day on my memory.
Being in this neighbourhood a short time ago, I
went down to look at my favourite ground, and
found that the large marshy common, with a few
donkeys and some wretched cows trying to get a
living off it, had been drained, and subdivided by
neat post and rail fences, and sheep were grazing
where snipe used to abound. The only thing un-
changed was the old ditch. I suppose it is all
right, but I prefer the ducks and snipe.
I z

334 SHOOTING

Many years ago very fair duck-shooting, and some
snipe as well, might he got on the Thames hetween
Marlow and Windsor, and this was a very luxurious
kind of wild-fowl shooting ; for all you had to do
was to hire a punt and a good puntsman who knew
the river well, and, wrapping yourself up comfort-
ably in a warm coat, drop down the river, going into
the quiet back waters and round the eyot-beds. In
favourable weather a good many ducks might be
found, and it was curious to notice how they would
hide themselves under the banks where they were
undermined by the stream, and the roots of the
osiers hung down. An old mallard would constantly
stay until fairly poked out ; and often when you
thought you had tried them thoroughly, after you
left an old fellow would rise and go quacking off.
The eyot-beds were favourite places for snipe ; but
you could not do much with these unless with a
steady old dog, who would poke slowly all over tlie
place, the stumps and stalks of the osiers entirely
preventing any walking. But now, I believe, this
style of shooting is at an end.

My last attempt at duck-shooting was very excit-
ing, in fact rather too much so. A friend, who knew
my weakness for it, wrote and asked me to come to
his house, as I could get capital flight-shooting close
to his place. Of course I went, and in the evening

SHOOTING 335

we started for the river, which was much flooded,
and embarkins^ in a boat, I was soon landed on a
small mound in the middle of the floods, about
twelve feet square, and was told it was a first-rate
place, as the ducks, in their flight from some large
ponds about five miles off, always passed over it.
I was also told I might be sure to know when they
were coming by the flashes of the guns of other wild
fowlers on the banks some miles away. A whistle
was given me to signal for the boat when I wanted
it, and I was left alone in my glory. It was very
cold, and my island was too small for exercise.
Soon a flash caught my eye, and then the report of
a gun fired some miles off came to my ears, soon
followed by a succession of flashes and reports from
gunners posted along each side of the river. The
effect was very pretty, and I admired it greatly,
until an idea struck me that there might be guns
posted on the bank behind. Just then some ducks
came along, and I fired rapidly at them ; almost
simultaneously came two reports from the bank, and
some heavy charges of shot cut up the water all
round ; in addition something weighty struck the
ground just in my rear, covering me with mud.
Instantly blowing my whistle, the boat soon came,
and on landing I saw two men, one of whom coming
up asked me where I had been. I told him " on

336 . SHOOTING

the mound " ; to which he rejoined, " Was you,
really ? Lor, now, if I didn't think it was the
miller's old donkey ! and, thinks I, if the aggravat-
ing old beast gets there, a shot or two won't hurt
un, and teach him not to get there again ; so I lets
' goo ' when the ducks comes along. There, and so
'twas you, sir ; lor, now, to think of that ! " and the
old fellow went off into a series of chuckles.

His gun was an extraordinary one — a single
barrel, something like four feet long, about eight
bore. I asked what charge he put in, and he
showed me a measure that held at least four
drachms of powder, and another that would con-
tain about three ounces of number two shot. This
was how he loaded, and in addition, he said, he
always put in a couple of pistol-shots — " they did
bring anything down so sweet that they hit." So
these were the pleasant things I heard strike the
ground just behind me. I went home at once,
thankful that I had not been bagged.

TUKNBLM. ANO .Sl'KAKS, I'KINTKHS, KUIMJLIJGII.

^y^ebster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine

Cygswing$ School of Veterinary Medicine 3^

Tufts University

200 Westtx)fo Road

MOflliGfafloa MA 01636