&i'^ 
 
 
 m »mu \ 
 

 "*.' .T 
 
 JOHNA.SEAVERNS 
 
3 9090 013 419 9 
 
 
 
 
 §^ the ^"icb. J. (B. ^Oooli. 
 
 '^lAN AND I3EAST, 
 
 Here and Hereafter, 
 
 WITH ILLITSTRATIYE ANELDGTES. 
 
 By the Rev. J. G. WOOD, M.A, 
 
 AUTHOH OF "homes WITHOUT HANDS," &C. 
 
 Two Vols., post 8vo, 21s. 
 
 ♦'It is filled with anecdotes wMeh ai-every en\6rtsimmg:'—Saturda!/l?eview. 
 
 "If they were given to passina: votes of thanks, the whole olt lie lower 
 animals would express their gratitude to the author of "Man and lieast. — 
 Observer. 
 
 " These tnily delightful volumes."— H'r^r^c;. 
 
 DALDY, ISBISTER, & CO., 56, LUDGATE HILL, E.C. 
 
FLOOD, FIELD. AND FOREST 
 
 Webster Family Library -^"^"^nnnry Med 
 
 Cummings School c, .-...-.iiiary Medicine 
 
 Tufts University 
 200 Westboro Road 
 North Grafton, MA 01 536 
 
I 
 
FLOOD 
 FIELD AND FOREST 
 
 By GEORGE ROOFER 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THAMES AND TWEED," "TALES AND SKETCHES,"" ETC. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY G. BOWERS AND J. CARLISLE 
 
 W. ISBISTER ^ GO. 
 Se>, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON 
 
 1874 
 
y ' «->^ 
 
 PEITSTTED BT TAYLOE AND CO., 
 LITTLE aUEEN STREET, LIKGOLNS' INN FIELDS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 AUTOBIOaEAPHT OF THE LATE 
 SALMO SALAE, ESQ. 
 
 CHAP. ^^<^^ 
 
 I. I Volunteer the Story of My Life, and Com- 
 mence it before I was Born 
 
 II. My Infancy — the Perils that attended it— My 
 Enemies — I Morahse, and Marvel for 
 what End they were permitted to Exist . 5 
 III. Having Donned my Silvery Coat, I go forth 
 into the " Wide, Wide World "—I pass a 
 Modest but Candid Opinion on my own 
 Appearance and Attributes . . .13 
 
 IV. I Encounter my First Great Peril— I Escape 
 therefi-om, and, Proceeding on the Journey 
 of Life, Seek the " Vast Unknown " . 20^ 
 
 V. The Goal is Reached—The " Treasures of the 
 Peep"— I become Surfeited with Pleasiu^e, 
 and long to Revisit the Scenes of my 
 Youth 28 
 
 VI. I Return— My Reception— ISIy Second Great 
 
 Peril • 35> 
 
VI 
 
 Contents. 
 
 VII. The Baillie's Misadventure in Search of " Sau- 
 mon-Itoe " — Mode of Fishing with that 
 
 Prohibited Bait 39 
 
 VIII. The Ascent of the River — I iind agam to m\ 
 
 cost that " All is not Gold that GUtters," 
 
 and afford a Practical Illustration of " The 
 
 Biter Bitten "—My Tliii'd Great Peril . 44 
 
 IX. I Foregather with a Kelt, whose Gallant 
 
 Struggle and Ultimate Capture I Witness 53 
 X. " Thou Rash Intruding Fool ! I took thee for 
 
 thy Betters " 01 
 
 XI. My Faithful Companion is Torn from my Side 
 and Ruthlessly Slain — I Moralise thereon, 
 and Proceed Upwards — The Waterfall — 
 The Spawning Beds — Mortality among 
 the Kelts — I commence my Return to the 
 
 Sea 69 
 
 XII. " The Sea, the Sea ! the Open Sea ! the Blue. 
 
 the Fresh, the ever Free ! " . . .80 
 
 A FOX'S TALE. 
 
 I. Vixen and Cub 
 
 . 87 
 
 IL Life in the Haystack 
 
 . 92 
 
 III. Life in the Gorse 
 
 . 101 
 
 IV. Cub-Hunting . 
 
 . 110 
 
 V. The Meet 
 
 119 
 
 VI. The Run 
 
 . 130 
 
 VII. The Frost 
 
 . 145 
 
 ^III. The Finish . 
 
 . 153 
 
Contents, 
 
 vu 
 
 BOLSOYEE rOEEST. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I, Master B.'s Youthful Reminiscences 
 II. Pupil and Preceptor 
 
 III. Dog-breaking . 
 IV. Boyhood's Pleasures 
 V. Birds' -nesting 
 VI. School days . 
 VII. Eatcatching . 
 III. The Badger . 
 IX. Fen- shooting 
 X. Wild and Tame Animals 
 XI. A Quarrel and its Result 
 
 II. The Condemned Cell . 
 
 171 
 180 
 190 
 203 
 215 
 230 
 245 
 261 
 275 
 290 
 302 
 313 
 
 THE BAGMAN. 
 
 I. The Bagman 
 II. The Meet 
 III. The Eun 
 
 331 
 336 
 341 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 "It was pleasant to see tlie benevolent and gra- 
 tified expression with which she would regard 
 ns." Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 
 •' Then the kingfisher would dart down like a plummet 
 
 from liis roost." 5 
 
 •' It's of no use putting it back, parr or not, it's dead." 21 
 •' The first intimation Piscator had of the escape of 
 
 his prey." 66 
 
 -' We sink back one by one to the pool below." . . 69 
 -'More than once a puzzled hound jumped over lier 
 
 back." 87 
 
 *' I see her now, creeping, crawling, crouching." . 94 
 
 *' The first Monday in November." .... 120 
 •' I scrambled up the sloping trunk and lay completely 
 
 liidden." , 142 
 
 " Oh ! Johnny saw the fox.'" 143 
 
 •' Come, old fellow, where's our fox? "... 166 
 *' I'll take him home, and cluiin him up to tlie old bar- 
 rel imder the lime tree." 167 
 
 •' She took wing and flew strongly and rapidly away." 223 
 
 " Wliat ails old Vic ? " 257 
 
 *' The badger." 261 
 
 " As I crawled along the horizontal bough at a giddy 
 lieight, the shai-p -billed creatures continually 
 
 dashed at me." 274 
 
 -' You should not have fired, Master." . . . 286 
 -' Truly, my lord was avenged," 343 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 THE LATE SALMO SALAR, ESQ. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 J YOLUNTEEE THE STOET OF MY LIFE, AND COM- 
 MENCE IT BEFORE I WAS BOEN. 
 
 " I WAS born, or rather — " 
 
 " Bless my heart ! " said I, somewhat startled^ 
 " who are you ? How did you get here ? " 
 
 No wonder I was surprised. I had that morning 
 quitted the Edinburgh station of the Caledonian 
 Railway, and, with the accustomed selfish liberality 
 of a young man, had bribed the guard to lock me 
 up in a compartment to myself, in spite of which I 
 now found myself accosted, without preface or 
 apology, by a queer-looking old gentleman, dressed 
 in a straw-coloured paletot, with a short pipe in hif^ 
 
 B 
 
2 Autobiography of 
 
 mouth, sitting, with his legs tucked under him, on 
 the opposite seat to mine, as much at his ease, 
 apparently, as if he had as much right there as I, 
 who had paid two-and-sixpence for the privilege of 
 appropriating six seats to myself. 
 
 " Or rather — " he proceeded. 
 
 " I really must beg, sir," I began ; but somehow 
 his manner overawed me, as it were, into listening. 
 I felt like the wedding-guest in the presence of the 
 Ancient Mariner. He went on in the same tone, 
 without noticing me, or even taking his pipe out of 
 his mouth. 
 
 " Or rather, I struggled into existence, for the ^g'g 
 from which I sprang had lain, with countless others, 
 for well-nigh four months in one of the tributary 
 streams of the Upper Tweed. My life, if life it 
 could be called, had hitherto been a dreamy, mono- 
 tonous, uneventful one, a gleam of sunshine 
 quickening my pulse and increasing the natural 
 yearning I felt for release and liberty, a passing 
 cloud or a chill wind driving me back to somnolency 
 and partial oblivion. But now the garish beams of 
 the late February sun had called me forth into a 
 new world, and I felt myself, with a proud sense of 
 independence, launched, free from trammels and 
 
The late Salmo Salar^ Esq. 3 
 
 control, upon that wild waste of waters, henceforth 
 my habitation and my home. 
 
 " Queer little mis-shapen creature that I was ! 
 "With head and eyes frightfully disproportioned to 
 my size, °a little tail, and almost invisible fins, my 
 appearance presented to the unpractised eye rather 
 that o£ the tadpole, the progeny of the wide-mouthed 
 waddling frog, than that of the noble Salmon, the 
 monarch of the waters. 
 
 " Still, Nature, careful of her worthiest offspring, 
 had not neglected the means o£ preservation during 
 its helpless infancy. I found myself furnished, 
 beneath my embryo fins, Avith a little sac of nutri- 
 ment, which I felt would sustain me for many days, 
 until my growing strength should enable me to seek 
 the abundant food which the surrounding waters 
 contained, and to escape the numerous enemies that 
 sought to make a prey of me. 
 
 " When I burst forth from the bed of gravel in 
 which I had so long been buried, very many of my 
 brethren accompanied me, and, as we eyed each 
 other's grotesque forms with astonishment, not un- 
 mixed with admiration, we, one and all, urged by 
 the promptings of Nature, scuttled away and hid 
 ourselves, each under some projecting pebble or 
 
 b2 
 
4 Autobiography of^ etc. 
 
 stone, over which the waters ruslied harmlessly, and 
 in which quiet haven, fed from the sac I have before 
 mentioned, we lay safe, happy, and in full enjoyment 
 of our new life, making observations on the, to us 
 wide, wide world, which now opened to our view." 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 MY INFAI^'CY. — THE PEBILS THAT ATTE?fI»ED IT. — MY 
 ENEMIES. — I MOHALISE, AND MAEVEL EOH WHAT 
 END THEY WERE PERMITTED TO EXIST. 
 
 *' Labour is tlie lot, not only of man, but of birds, 
 beasts, and fishes. We must all work for our living, 
 and I for one have a natural inclination to swim 
 against the stream ; but I own to looking back to 
 this part of my life as one of unmixed happiness. 
 Eed without the trouble of seeking, or even opening 
 my mouth to swallow, my food — sheltered by an 
 overhanging stone, and lulled by the pleasant ripple 
 of the stream around me— I passed a dreamy, happy 
 existence, without care, or thought, or trouble, and, 
 as the sense of life quickened within me, it brought 
 
6 Autobiography of 
 
 with it only a deeper sense of enjoyment. ' AVhere 
 ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be ^vise,' and I may be 
 thankful that I remained so long in blissful igno- 
 rance of the dangers which surrounded me. The 
 power of reflection was not given to me, and. 
 although I saw numbers of my brothers and sisters 
 daily destroyed before my eyes, it never occurred to 
 me as possible that a similar fate might await me. 
 My ignorance, however, was my protection; care- 
 less of what was passing around me, I lay under 
 my stone, motionless and fearless, and thus escaped 
 danger until Nature had given me the means of 
 avoiding it. 
 
 " When I look back on the number of our enemies, 
 I can only wonder that even one out of our numerous 
 progeny should be left to tell the tale. Even the 
 insect tribe was in arms against us ; I have seen a 
 huge water-beetle seize an embryo samlet by the 
 throat, and carry it off to devour at his leisure ; and 
 the larvse of sundry insects fed upon us while we 
 were in the ^gg^ or newly hatched, more especially 
 those of the dragon-fly, which, goggled-eyed, mis- 
 shapen, repulsive, the hideous face furnished with a 
 pair of unnaturally elongated eyebrows, and the 
 mouth with sharpest teeth, would destroy, in the 
 
The late Salvio Salar^ Esq. 7 
 
 course of a few days, thousands upon thousands of 
 eggs. There was a little brown-coated bird,* with a 
 white waistcoat, the neatest, pleasantest-looking 
 creature imaginable, who would imlk-\ deliberately 
 into the stream, and, setting at defiance all laws of 
 gravitation, peck away at marine insects, floating 
 morsels of spawn, and I have heard, though I never 
 actually witnessed the atrocity, and do not believe 
 it possible, little samlets like myself.^ There was a 
 company of black-headed gulls, § who, with loud 
 laughing cry, perpetually hovered over the stream, 
 and, though their professed object was to feed upon 
 the March-brown fly which, dead or alive, in count- 
 less myriads lined the shore or covered the face of 
 the waters, they never let slip an opportunity of 
 snapping up some little brother or sister of mine 
 who_ had carelessly left the place of refuge. Then 
 the kingfisher, with rufous breast and glorious 
 mantle of blue, would dart down like a plummet 
 
 * The Water Ouzel — Ciiiclus aquaticus. 
 
 t Waterton doubts this, but I have seen the operation, times 
 and oft. —Ud. 
 
 X The correspondence in ' Land and Water ' and my own 
 observation have convinced me that this interesting little bird 
 is absolutely guiltless of the destruction of salmon spawn.— £d. 
 
 ^ The Lauo-hin? Gull — Lanes ridibundus. 
 
8 Autobiography of 
 
 from his roost, and seize unerringly any little truant 
 whicli passed within his ken. The appetite of this 
 bird was miraculous ; I never saw him satisfied. 
 He would sit for hours on a projecting bough, his 
 body almost perpendicular, his head thrown back 
 between his shoulders ; eyeing with an abstracted 
 air the heavens above or the rocks around him, he 
 seemed intent only upon exhibiting the glorious 
 lustre of his plumage, and the brilliant colours with 
 which his azure back was shaded ; but let a careless 
 samlet stray beneath him, and in a twinkling his 
 nonchalant attitude was abandoned. With a turn so 
 quick that the eye could scarce follow it, his tail 
 took the place of his head, and, falling rather than 
 flying, he would seize his victim, toss him once into the 
 * air, catch him as he fell, head foremost, and swallow 
 him in a second. This manoeuvre he would repeat 
 from morning till night ; such a greedy, insatiable 
 little wretch I never saw ! A huge, melancholy 
 heron, sometimes accompanied by her mate, would 
 station herself knee-deep in the pool near at hand. 
 She was held in terrible awe by me in later days, 
 but at this time I think she despised such ' small 
 deer ' as we were ; I have seen her though, kill a rat 
 with a single stroke of her powerful beak, transfix a 
 
The late Salino Salar^ Esq, 9 
 
 frog, or STvallow an eel in spite of his writhings and 
 struggles, and not unfrequently, to my infinite de- 
 light, kill, and carry oif to her distant nest, those 
 most hated and destructive foes to our race, our 
 cousins the yellow and bull trout. Yes ! our ow]i 
 blood relations are our direst foes, and I have wit- 
 nessed the destruction, by a hungry old kelt, of fifty 
 of his own progeny for breakfast.*"^ 
 
 " Artifically-bred samlets, confined in large ponds, 
 and daily stuifed with food, escape most of these 
 perils ; but, I think, the system is carried too far. 
 Protected from all danger, the young fry are ignorant 
 of its appearance, and they lose the natural instinct 
 which would otherwise prompt them to avoid it. 
 They are like home-bred boys, who, having been 
 brought np under the surveillance of parents and 
 tutors, only sent forth into the world at an age when 
 other lads, less carefully attended, are fully capable 
 of taking care of themselves, become the easy prey 
 to the sharks and cormorants, and cold-blooded slimy 
 eels, in the shape of usurers and others, whose 
 vocation it is to prey upon them. The grand loss to 
 
 * This is denied "by Mr. Buckland and others, whose opinion 
 is deservedly of weight, hut I cannot douht the fact. The 
 kelt is as voracious as the pike. 
 
JO Autobiography of 
 
 our race is in the first stage, that of the Q,gg ; save- 
 these, protect these, hatch these, and leave jSTature 
 to do the rest. The nursing ponds, the restrictions 
 as to the time when we should migrate, the chopped 
 bullock's liver, and the two years' attendance are 
 useless, and w^orse tlian useless, expenses. 
 
 " I increased gradually in size ; my form developed ; 
 the little sac was absorbed, and, with a new-born 
 appetite, I felt was given the power of supplying 
 it. I began to make excursions from my place of 
 refuge, seizing with avidity the minute insects which 
 swarmed in the waters around me, and even rising 
 at times to the surface and seizing some unconscious 
 midge-fly or preoccupied gnat, that had alighted to 
 drop her eggs on the water. If danger arose, we 
 (for in these excursions I was joined by numberless 
 fry of my own standing) at once rushed for shelter 
 beneath the stones, or sought it in the shallows 
 where our enemies, the great trouts, could not follow 
 us. I remember on one occasion, though it w-as 
 somewhat later than the time of which I am now 
 treating, how I saved myself, by a desperate ma- 
 noeuvre, from the jaws of a hungry trout. The 
 savage brute singled me out from among all the rest 
 of the shoal, and, hunting me round and round until 
 
TJie late Salvia Salar^ Esq. 1 1 
 
 I was well-nigh exhausted, was on the point of 
 making me his prey, when a bold and happy idea 
 occurred to me : springing out of the water, sis 
 inches or more upon the dry shingle, I lay gasping 
 and half dead with fear, but out of the reach of my 
 enemy. The refraction of the water enabled me to 
 see him, though he could not see me ; he beat up 
 and down the spot at which I had disappeared, with 
 much the air of a retriever puppy, when the squirrel 
 he has chased for the first time takes refuge in a 
 tree. His search being in vain, he retired, and I 
 had just strength left to squatter into the water 
 again, and soon regained my accustomed haunt be- 
 neath the stone.* 
 
 " There seems something very shocking, and con- 
 trary to the benevolent design of nature, in the fact 
 that creatures so helpless and so capable of enjoying 
 life are exposed to these incessant attacks. Why are 
 we not allowed to enjoy life in peace and happiness 
 without fear or danger ? " 
 
 I broke in here upon the old gentleman's narrative. 
 " Why, sir, did you not tell me just now that your 
 
 * This anecdote was related to me by a lady who witnessed 
 the occurrence, and on whose power of observation, as well as. 
 veracity, implicit reliance may be placed. 
 
12 Autobiography of^ etc. 
 
 great enjoyment was to devour all the little insects 
 on or beneath the surface of the water that came 
 within your reach ? " 
 
 "What, sir," said he testily, " has that to do with 
 the matter ? Those miserable animated atoms were, 
 doubtless, created expressly to feed us beings of a 
 noble order. If you compare a wretched gnat, or a 
 miserable — " 
 
 I assured the choleric old gentleman I had no such 
 intention, and begged him to proceed with his in- 
 teresting narrative. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 HAVING DONNED MY SILYERT COA.T, I GO FORTH INTO 
 THE " WIDE, WIDE WOELD." — I PASS A MODEST BUT 
 CANDID OPINION ON MY OWN APPEARANCE AND 
 ATTRIBUTES. 
 
 " Time rolled its ceaseless course ; days melted into 
 weeks, and weeks into months ; more than a year had 
 passed since I— a small, helpless, mis-shapen embryo 
 — had hidden myself under some casual pebble or 
 fragment of a rock. I was then scarcely an inch 
 long, my body marked with transverse bluish-grey 
 lines, the 'badge of all our tribe,'* and my head an 
 eyes altogether out of proportioD to my body. I was 
 
 * The young of the Sahnonidi© amongst fishes, like those of 
 the Felidse amongst beasts, are invariably barred or striped.— -E^c?. 
 
14 Autobiography of 
 
 now some five inches long, trim, well-shaped, and 
 vigorous, marked from shoulder to tail with distinct 
 dusky bars. Although still haunting the waters in 
 which I had first breathed the breath of life, I had 
 long since extended my rambles, and, in company 
 with my brethren, sought the more rapid streams. 
 We rejoiced in our new-born strength to stem the 
 torrent, and vied with one another, while poised as 
 hawks in mid-air, in seizing the small insects which 
 were borne along the stream above us. Although 
 there was a sameness in this life, it was not monoto- 
 nous. We had become sufiiciently cognisant of the 
 dangers around us, but, with the buoyancy of youth, 
 we felt more pride in our cleverness in escaping them 
 than gratitude for the escape. Then the changes in 
 the mighty river herself were subjects of perpetual 
 interest. Sometimes while stealing along in a quiet 
 deep channel but a few yards wide, worn through the 
 rock, or between it and the green bank opposite, the 
 spectator would marvel at the broad expanse of 
 shingle or barren sand. Little would he wonder, if, 
 after a week's rain, he sought the same spot, when 
 Tweed was coming down in her might, and every 
 tributary stream, transformed for the nonce into a 
 river, swelled the mighty flood. Then, timber trees, 
 
The late Salmo Saiar^ Esq. 15 
 
 sawn wood, dead animals, farming implements, even 
 haystacks, would come floating down, and the very 
 channel of the river would be diverted, sometimes 
 never to return to its ancient course. Sad was the 
 havoc occasioned among the embryo spawn ; torn 
 from its bed, it would be carred down the stream, to 
 be devoured by the trout or the eel, or to perish amid 
 the waste of waters.* We felt on these occasions 
 pretty safe. Our principal enemies were dispersed : 
 the gulls sought worms in the ploughed uplands ; the 
 kingfisher and the solitary heron flew away to the 
 smaller streams, where the less turbid water per- 
 mitted them to see their prey. The cold, slimy, 
 cruel eel, alone of all our enemies, was then to be 
 dreaded. Crawling along at the bottom of the water ^ 
 his flat wicked head pressed against the gravel, so as 
 to escape the force of the stream, the wily beast 
 would insinuate himself into every crevice or corner 
 where a small fish might have taken shelter, or a 
 drowned worm be lodged, and all was prey to him. 
 But, as I said, these perils passed lightly over, and 
 
 * This most serious cause of destruction might he greatly- 
 lessened hy the removal of the spawn from heds exposed to the 
 force of the flood to selected spots unafl"ected hy it, and equally 
 adapted for hatching. 
 
1 6 Autobiography of 
 
 were forgotten as soon as passed ; ' we had health 
 and we had hope,' and, so that the day passed plea- 
 santly away, we bad little care or thought for the 
 morrow. 
 
 " A change was, however, to be wrought upon us. 
 I had long observed in my companions, and could not 
 but be conscious within myself, of a striking and 
 beautiful alteration in our external appearance. 
 Without losing the dark blue stripes, the distinctive 
 marks of the salmon tribe, they became gradually 
 coated over, as it were, with bright and silvery scales, 
 as though we had been subjected to the process of 
 electro typing. I would not be thought vain, but I 
 look back, even now, with feelings of pride and 
 delight, at the image memory conjures up of the 
 beautiful appearance we presented. Grlancing througli 
 the water, we glittered like fire-flies in the air. Our 
 strength had increased in the same ratio as our 
 beauty, and, when I say that our form was nearly as 
 possible that which I now present, I need hardly say 
 it was faultless." 
 
 " Eeally, sir !" I interposed, " for a gentleman who 
 disclaims vanity " 
 
 " Sir ! I assert that the form of a salmon, fresh 
 run from the sea, is faultless. Could the vigour he 
 
TJie late Salmo Salar^ Esq, 1 7 
 
 displays, could the strength he possesses, be lodged 
 in any form short of faultless? Could he ascend 
 the cataract— could he stem the roaring torrent- 
 could he " The old gentleman was getting 
 
 into such a state of ebullition that I hastily 
 checked him with a torrent of profuse apologies, 
 not unmixed, I fear, with a soupgon of flapdoodle, 
 the stufl" which Mr. O'Brien informed Peter 
 Simple they feed fools on. Somewhat pacified, he 
 proceeded : — 
 
 " With my increasing vigour, a strange feeling of 
 restlessness came over me, a longing desire to wander 
 forth into some unknown world of waters. The wide 
 river seemed all too narrow to contain me ; and one 
 glorious May morning, when the heavy rains which 
 had fallen on the mountains had swelled the river 
 some foot or two, the migratory impulse became 
 irresistible, and, accompanied by onillions of my 
 companions, actuated by the same impulse, I dashed 
 away down stream, seeking ' fresh fields and pastures 
 
 new. 
 
 " When the prisoner of Chillon looked out through 
 
 *This is the invariable misquotation. Milton says "fresli 
 woods;" but let S. S. have his way, especially as "woods" 
 would not do. — Ed. 
 
 C 
 
1 8 AutobiograpJiy of 
 
 the barred hole, which did duty for a window in 
 his dungeon wall, upon the waters of Lake Leman, 
 the fish 'were joyous one and all,' but never so 
 joyous as we — escaping, as it seemed to us now, 
 from a hated monotonous existence, though Heaven. 
 knows we had been happy enough in it for 
 many a month — as we dashed along the rolling, 
 rapid waters of fair Tweed. The Peel Burn foot 
 is soon passed, and now we float down the bright 
 stream known as Tair "Water. Ettrick gives 
 forth her contingent of thousands upon thou- 
 sands of shapely silver-coated fish, and in their 
 company, we proceed on our happy pilgrimage. 
 Together we traverse famed G-len-mein, and breast 
 the rapid whirling waters of the Hart's Pool. Poi- 
 sonous Gi-ala drives us, sickened and choking, to the 
 other side of the stream, and Abbotsford, with its 
 wooded banks, planted by the hand of Scott ; the 
 Brig-end stream, where churlish Peter refused a 
 passage to Pather Philip ; the ' fathomless pool,' 
 ■whence the Kelpie arose, to ' grin and glour ' at 
 him ; the ' haunted glen,' ' fair Melrose ' itself, are 
 left behind ere comparatively pure water is reached. 
 How merrily we swam, we leapt out of the water, we 
 raced through the water, we dashed at the flies which 
 
The late Salmo Salar^ Esq. 19 
 
 settled on the surface ; we would have shouted, but 
 that speech was denied us ; and, exulting in the pride 
 of form and beauty and strength, felt as though fate 
 had no power over us. Alas ! pride goeth before a 
 fall." 
 
 c2 
 
CHAPTEE lY. 
 
 I ENCOUNTER MY FIEST GEEAT PERIL. — I ESCAPE 
 THEREFROM, AND, PROCEEDrNG ON THE JOIJRNET 
 OF LIFE, SEEK THE " YAST UNKNOWN." 
 
 " As tlius buoyant, elated, and self-confident, I pro- 
 ceeded onwards, I observed a boat, witli a young man 
 in it, ancliored in strange fashion a little on one side 
 of the main stream down which I was passing. The 
 anchor consisted, in fact, of another person, older 
 than the occupant of the boat, who, standing in the 
 water as deep as his long legs enabled him, leaned 
 his weight upon the stern of the boat, and so held it 
 fast in its position. I passed them carelessly, and 
 when I was but a few yards in advance, my attention 
 was attracted by a small, struggling, brown fly, which 
 
Autobiography of^ etc. ii 
 
 had apparently just dropped into the water. Eush- 
 ing towards it, and rising suddenly to the surface, I 
 greedily seized, and was preparing to swallow, the 
 delicate morsel ; but scarcely did it touch my lips 
 when I felt a slight but smart sensation, as of a 
 thorn pricking my mouth, and found myself dragged 
 by some invisible but irresistible force against the 
 stream, until, half choked, I approached the boat, 
 into which I was instantly lifted in a light net. I 
 found myself clasped by a painfully warm hand, and 
 held firmly, in spite of my struggles, until the hook 
 attached to the treacherous fly I had seized, was 
 extracted, not untenderly, from my wounded jaw. 
 I was already more than half dead, limp, faint, and 
 bleeding. 
 
 ^' ' It's just a wee parr beastie,' said the elder of 
 the two, preparing to slip me into the water. 
 
 " ' It's of no use putting it back,' said the other ; 
 ' parr or not, it's dead.' 
 
 " ' It may dee and be dom'd ; I wash my hands of 
 it,' was the reply with which my profane friend 
 placed me in the water carefully enough. I felt 
 sick and helpless; without power to maintain my 
 proper position, I floated, with my back downwards, 
 until I rested against some long floating grass, to 
 
22 Autobiogi^aphy of 
 
 which the eddy of the stream had carried me, a few 
 yards from the boat. Although too weak to move, 
 I retained my senses, and heard the younger man 
 say to his companion — 
 
 "'Why, John, what made you throw that poor 
 little dead beast into the water again ? ' 
 
 '"'Deed,' was the reply, 'yon beastie's just a 
 smolt, an' there's a fine for killing sic like.' 
 
 " ' But you killed a parr just now ? ' 
 
 "'Ay.' 
 
 " * But you call this a parr ? ' 
 
 " ' 'Deed, an' it's the fau't of those who gie the 
 same name to twa different fishes.' 
 
 '"What do you mean?' 
 
 "'A mean that there's a wee fish ye killed just 
 nooca'ed "the parr," an' it's a fish of itself,* an' has 
 melt an' roe as ilka ither fish has, an' ye'll find it in 
 
 * I have opened hundreds of the Burn Parr, Salmo Salmulus, 
 male and female. I have seen them on their spawning beds, 
 and taken them out of bums where salmon never yet ascended, 
 nor could by possibility ascend. I have baited hooks with the 
 tough little beggars, and released them alive after they had 
 towed a trimmer for six hours ahout a loch ; the salmon parr 
 being as soft as a pat of butter, and endowed with about as 
 much power of sustaining hardships. Doubtless the young 
 salmon is a parr, but a parr is not always the young salmon. 
 —FA. 
 
The late Salmo Salar, Esq. 23 
 
 rivers an' bums, an' abuue waterfalls, an' in moun- 
 tain tarns, where no saumon ever yet was seen or 
 could get, an' it's streekit an' barred all the same as 
 the young saumon-parr ; and it's just the confusion 
 of ca'ing the twa by the ae name that's raised a' the 
 fash that's made about the " edentity," as they ca' it, 
 of the parr with the young saumon.'* 
 
 " ' Then you believe that the parr is not the young 
 of the salmon ? ' 
 
 " ' If ye ;.ca' the young saumon the parr, the parr 
 is the young saumon ; but there's anither parr that 
 has a better right to the name, an' it's a pity that 
 twa fish should be bund to hae but ae name betwixt 
 
 them.' . 
 
 " At this point of the conversation, feeling myself 
 somewhat recovered from the effects of my immer- 
 sion in the uncongenial air, I struggled from my 
 resting-place, and, after one or two unsuccessful 
 attempts at swimming, which resulted in a circular 
 aimless movement, I found myself carried out of ear- 
 shot down stream. By the time that I had quite 
 
 * Since this was written I have taken immense pains to con- 
 vince ^Ir. Buckland of the fact that the maUire barred S. Fano 
 is not identical with the immature barred Sahno Salar, but, I 
 fear, in vain, though the fact is absolutely indisputable.— ^ci. 
 
24 Autobiography of 
 
 recovered myself, and, with tlie careless and elastic 
 spirit of youth, had already forgotten the severe 
 lesson I had experienced, I found myself on the 
 brink of a precipice, over which, to w^hat unknown 
 depths I could not guess, the great river was hurried 
 in ceaseless flow. This was the cauld, or dam, that 
 by the supernatural agency of the wondrous wizard, 
 Michael Scott, ' bridled the Tweed with a curb of 
 stone,' just above the beautiful old abbey of Melrose. 
 Pausing for a second to collect my energies, I in- 
 stinctively turned my head up-stream, and, swim- 
 ming with all my power against it, allowed myself to 
 be carried over the rock, and down into the foaming 
 water below. The shock was much less in reality 
 than in anticipation; I speedily recovered my senses, 
 and, blithe and free, resumed my downward course. 
 I may mention here, that this manoeuvre of swimming 
 tail first was invariably practised by us whenever the 
 stream was at all rapid. Our movements were 
 eccentric but graceful ; darting at intervals ostensibly 
 upwards, but always yielding, and, like the snail in 
 the problem, descending ten feet for every one we 
 ascended. By yielding to the might of the river, we 
 were carried more safely and pleasantly on our 
 destined course. 
 
The late Sahno Salar^ Esq. 25 
 
 "Passing the noble ruins of Dryburgli Abbey— 
 scarcely, if at all, inferior to those of Melrose— I 
 speedily readied another — the Mertoun — cauld, and, 
 passing it with equal ease and less fear than the 
 former, swam along the Bernersyde water, by woody 
 Makerstoim through one of the narrow channels 
 called the ' Clippers,'* by the magnificent castle of 
 Floors, and, tarrying but to taste the sweet waters of 
 the Teviot, on through Kelso Bridge and Sprouston 
 Dubs, through the Edenmouth and Carham "Waters, 
 Lady Kirk and Collingwood, to Coldstream Bridge. 
 In this neighbourhood I escaped, by pure good for- 
 tune, a danger that I afterwards learnt proved fatal 
 to thousands — nay, tens of thousands — of my young 
 companions. The stream had apparently divided,, 
 and whilst I followed the course of the right-hand 
 one, the greater number passed down the wider but 
 less rapid left-hand division. Here they speedily 
 encountered a terrific mill-wheel, and, dashing on 
 one side, they found their progress stopped by a 
 small net, which being passed under them, they were 
 landed literally by bushels. My informant, who 
 
 * Tweed is so confined by rocks at this point, an active man 
 may cross it by jumping from one to the other. — Ed. 
 
^6 Autobiooraphy of 
 
 escaped by passing under tlie mill-wheel at the immi- 
 nent risk of being crushed to death, assured me that 
 the bodies o£ our unlucky brethren were used as 
 manure! And, degrading as the suggestion is, it 
 seems not impossible, for the numbers taken could 
 not be sold or used for food. The water-bailiffs, a 
 useless crew — who, at the time the river chiefly re- 
 quires protection, usurp the places of the private 
 keepers — connive at or refuse to notice this wholesale 
 destruction, and content themselves by seizing and 
 bringing before the magistrate the wretched urchins 
 who, with a long stick and a long string, a school- 
 boy at one end and the most questionable semblance 
 of a fly at the other, fill their breeches' pocket wdth 
 smolts, and run home to broil them for ' daddy's 
 supper.' Doubtless many thousands are destroyed 
 in this way, but what is that when our prolific nature 
 is considered ? Every female of our wondrous race 
 lays, on an average, eight thousand eggs ; and, so 
 long as we have only our natural enemies to contend 
 with, the rivers we afl'ect will be stocked to repletion 
 in spite of all the schoolboys birched betwixt Peebles 
 and Berwick. It is now as it was of old, we strain 
 at the gnat and swallow the camel, w^e screw at the 
 tap and pour out at the bung-hole ; we permit the 
 
The late Sail no Salar^ Esq. 27 • 
 
 slaughter of the teeming mother, and preserve the 
 l)arren kelt ; we connive at the infamous polhition of 
 the rivers, the poisoning of men, beasts, and fishes 
 by millions, and we punish a child for catching a 
 smolt." 
 
CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THE GOAL IS REACHED. — THE " TREASrEES OF THE 
 DEEP." — I BECOME SURFEITED WITH PLEASURE, 
 
 a:nd Lo^a TO reyisit the scenes of my 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 CoT^'SCious tbat the latter portion of my excited 
 companion's diatribe was, if not unansvverable, quite 
 beyond my powers to meet by any argument I could 
 adduce, I prudently ignored them, and referring to 
 bis previous remark, I said, " Ton think then, sir, that 
 the water-bailiffs are useless? " 
 
 " By no means," said he, in a more argumentative 
 and less dictatorial tone than he had hitherto used ; 
 " but they should be supplemental to, and not in the 
 place of, the ' fishermen ' or private keepers. These 
 
Autobiography of^ etc, 29 
 
 men know every pool, and rock, and liaunt of a fish, 
 spawning or otherwise, on their respective waters. 
 They are directly interested in the increase of the 
 fiih, and they generally know and are not connected 
 with the poachers. Yet on a certain day, as a rule, 
 the keepers, one or more of whom are attached to 
 each water, are functi officiis, and their place sup- 
 plied by water-bailiffs, to one of whom are frequently 
 entrusted three or four miles of river, and who is 
 somehow invariably at the farthest part of the beat, 
 while his kinsmen, and possibly former comrades, are 
 netting the ascending or leistering the spawning 
 fish." 
 
 I have always doubted w^hether the above lucubra- 
 tions emanated in reality from my strange companion, 
 or whether they were not in fact the embodiment of 
 my own dreamy notions ; for, truth to say, my friend 
 had become somewhat prosy, and an " exposition of 
 sleep " had come over me. I roused myself, however, 
 and listened with marked attention as he proceeded 
 in his natural tone : — 
 
 " At last, then, we had attained the goal of our 
 hopes, the unknown object of our yearning aspira- 
 tions; and never were wishful anticipations — off- 
 spring of the promptings of Nature — more abun- 
 
30 Autobiography of 
 
 dantly satisfied. Not only did tlie novel element in 
 whicli we found ourselves — for, so unlike was it to 
 that which we had hitherto inhabited, that it might 
 properly be so called — brace and invigorate our 
 frames, rendering us keenly sensible of the delight 
 of wandering at will through what seemed to us 
 boundless space ; but the waters absolutely teemed 
 with life, — marine insects and molluscs, shrimps 
 and prawns, young crabs and lobsters, herring and 
 other fry, sea-worms, embryo creatures of lower 
 organization in millions, all destined doubtless 
 for our sustenance and delectation, and for the 
 gratifying (satisfying seemed out of the question) 
 our appetite, which ' grew with what it fed on.' And 
 we grew too ; how could we otherwise, consuming as 
 we did almost our own w^eight daily of the most 
 nutritious and palatable food ? 
 
 " I have heard wonder expressed that so small a 
 fish as the smolt should, in a few short months, in- 
 crease from the weight of three or four ounces to 
 that of frequently twice as many pounds. But where 
 is the wonder My mother, who was murdered on 
 the spawning beds before half her eggs had been 
 deposited, weighed twenty pounds ; the noble kipper, 
 her companion, half as much again. What would be 
 
The late Sabno Salar^ Esq. 3 1 
 
 tlie weight at more than two years old of a dog, off- 
 spring of parents sudi sizes ? And was ever puppy 
 fed as we were fed ? No ! Fortes creantur fortihis. 
 Large fish, like otlier large animals, especially when 
 the females are large, produce large offspring, and 
 when I left the sea and again ascended my native 
 Tweed in July, I weighed nearly seven pounds f but 
 I anticipate. 
 
 " Although the world of waters was all before us 
 where to choose, we never of our own accord 
 wandered far away from the land. Coasting along, 
 we hugged the shore, and thereby not only secured a 
 greater abundance of food, but escaped many dangers 
 to which those who were driven by accident or fear 
 away into the unknown depths of remoter waters 
 were exposed. True, danger even in the humble 
 path we had chosen for ourselves met us at every 
 
 * A suggestion offers itself here, wHch I put forward with 
 great diffidence. Instead of putting back the undersized fish, 
 the necessity for doing which is now so strongly advocated, sup- 
 pose the angler were to return those monsters of the deep whose 
 capture and dimensions we occasionally find recorded in the 
 sporting newspapers— the females especially. Would not the 
 probable result be an increase in the size of the fish ? After all, 
 small fry are pleasant eating, and exist in such numbers 
 that the effect of rod-fishing upon them is absolutely inap- 
 preciable. 
 
2,2 Autobiography of 
 
 turn ; dog-fish and cod-fish, and porpoises, and seals, 
 and otters preyed upon us remorselessly, but the 
 numbers of the first four were greatly increased as 
 we increased our distance from the shore ; besides 
 w^hich, we lost those landmarks which had afforded 
 us confidence that we should one day be able to re- 
 trace our steps, and saved us from tlie bewildering 
 sensation of being utterly lost. Few fish, once 
 driven out to sea, ever returned to our company ; 
 they were devoured, or perished from want of proper 
 food ; or, if haply they reached some unknown shore, 
 they wandered listlessly and helplessly along it, seek- 
 ing a stream or river suitable to their wants, and, 
 fiuding none, perished miserably. 
 
 " G-reat indeed is the wickedness and heavy the 
 responsibility of that greedy, selfish class — thank 
 Heaven ! now at last a limited one — which, liaving 
 acquired in some incomprehensible manner the legal 
 right of privately destroying what ought to have 
 been the most cherished, as it is the most valuable, 
 public property, planted those accursed engines, the 
 stake-nets, along the coast and in the tideways known as 
 the highways most frequented by our persecuted race. 
 Nor is the fatal result that of chance only. As the 
 shoal of salmon and grilse feel their way along shore, 
 
The late Salmo Salar^ Esq. 33 
 
 they run against the guide-net, stretching far away 
 into the sea, turning to avoid the danger seaward, 
 they are exposed to the attacks of ravenous hakes 
 and dog-fish, approaching in size to sharks ; these, 
 with the seals, watch the entrance to the nets in 
 murderous numbers, having learnt by experience the 
 rich banquet afforded by the terrified fugitives. 
 
 " However, these and many other dangers, which 
 in the course of twelve months left scarcely one in 
 five hundred of my original companions alive, affected 
 such of us as escaped no more than the unknown 
 perils of our childhood. ' Heaven from its creatures 
 hides the book of fate.' My life was passedjn one 
 continued dream of sensual enjoyment. 
 
 " But all such pleasures, even to the brute creation, 
 are of short duration. I had for some little time 
 become aware of a feeling of satiety, a desire for 
 chaoge ; and it was, I think, about the middle of June 
 that this feeling rose into an impulse strong as that 
 which, in May of the previous year,* had driven me 
 
 * I have liere,to some extent, waived my own opinion in favour 
 of that of scientific and trustworthy men whose experiments 
 appear to estahHshthe fact, that the Salmon Parr remains two 
 years in the fresh water. I still beUeve that the early hatched 
 fish go down to the sea, as smolts, the same year in which thay 
 
34 Autobiography of^ etc. 
 
 down into the sea. As to Lord Lovel, 'a longing 
 wisli came over my mind ' to revisit my early haunts, 
 and to taste again that sweet fresh water I had so 
 gladly left. Besides, while I had been wandering 
 through the waving groves of sea-weed in search of 
 my prey, certain sea-lice had detached themselves 
 from the sapless stems, to browse upon my ' fair 
 pasture.' They swarmed beneath my gills, aud other 
 parts of my body, to my great annoyance. Instinct 
 told me that these creatures could not exist in fresh 
 water ; so, in company with a few stragglers, the 
 remnants of my early companions, and many elder 
 fish, I turned my head, and resolutely commenced 
 my homeward journey." 
 
 are born. This is, I think, the general opinion of the local 
 fishermen, and I have great faith in the accuracy of their 
 observations. 
 
CHAPTER yi. 
 
 I EETUEN. — MY RECEPTION. — MT SECOND GEEAT 
 PEEIL. 
 
 " Although the time spent iu the sea was really con- 
 siderable, and the experience acquired appeared to 
 our youthful imaginations illimitable, the actual dis- 
 tance passed in our wanderings was not great, and a 
 few days found us at the broad estuary into which 
 fair Tweed empties herself. 
 
 " Here, after tarrying a short time to accustom our 
 palates to the change from salt to fresh water, and 
 impelled by the sweet taste of an unusual flow of the 
 latter, we ran at once into the mouth of the river, 
 prepared to ascend with the flowing tide of that 
 night. Little indeed did we calculate upon the de- 
 
 D 2 
 
36 Autobiography of 
 
 structive power of men, wliose living was our death. 
 "We liad collected, as I said, by hundreds, still in the 
 sea, but close to the mouth of the river. Suddenly 
 a boat, manned by two stout rowers, put off, and, 
 whilst they rowed quickly round us, a third paid off 
 an immense net of apparently endless length, and 
 deep enough to sweep the bottom. So rapidly was 
 this effected, that, notwithstanding a strong feeling 
 of imminent danger, we found ourselves surrounded, 
 and, the two ends of the net being joined on the 
 shore, entrapped and confined within a circle be- 
 coming, as it was hauled in, gradually of smaller 
 dimensions. In vain, swimming wildly about and 
 around, we sought some outlet of escape — there was 
 none ; slowly, but surely, the mighty circle lessened 
 and still lessened, until we found ourselves dragged 
 to the veiy shore, and there, heaped together, we 
 lay, a mass of helpless, struggling fish, gasping, 
 flapping, choking, suffocating, rolling over one 
 another, and exhausting our little remaining strength 
 in futile jumps, or vain endeavours to hide ourselves 
 beneath the doomed victims. Already the dull, 
 heavy thud of the short club, used by the fisherman 
 to despatch those fish that came readiest to hand, 
 sounded in our ears ; already hope had given way to 
 
The late Sahno Salm^^ Esq. 37 
 
 despair, and I, like the rest, felt the desire of life 
 departing witli the hope \ when a cry arose among 
 our captors that the net was breaking ! Such indeed 
 was the fact ; the net had been pulled somewhat too 
 high upon the shore, and the vast weight of more 
 than three hundred fish, aided by the struggles of 
 some of the heaviest, broke the meshes, and in a 
 moment we were free ! Many of my companions 
 were nevertheless seized and killed ; but by far the 
 greater number, myself included, rushed through the 
 wide opening, and dashed back again to the friendly 
 sea we had so lately left. What became of my com- 
 panions I know not — many doubtless were lost, many 
 devoured : for myself, I lingered sadly about the 
 spot, and should have in all probability shared their 
 fate, but that I was accosted by a female of my own 
 race, bright and beautiful, but twice my size and age. 
 She told me she was seeking the spawning-beds 
 above, and I, as youth ever does, felt an instinctive 
 love and veneration for one so much older and 
 grander than myself. She told me of the dangers 
 she had escaped, almost by miracle, the year before ; 
 how, after being twice all but taken in the drag-nets, 
 from which I had just escaped, she had entered the 
 river : how for some miles as she ascended, when her 
 
38 Autobiography of^ etc, 
 
 back or that of her larger companion was seen above 
 the surface of the shallow water, there had been a cry^ 
 of ' Fash ! Fash ! ' and then a net had been hastily 
 dragged across her path, while another was stretched 
 below to prevent her return ; how men with loud 
 shouts or splashings of the water had driven the 
 devoted fish into the toils before them ; how at each 
 projecting rock, forming still water where the strug- 
 gling fish might rest, a net was placed ;* how the 
 deep pools aifording a more permanent harbour were 
 dragged ; and how, when at last the shallow spawning- 
 beds were attained, many of her race were ' gafied ' 
 for the sake of the spawn within them. Such had 
 been the fate of the baggit from which I sprang, 
 some particulars of which I learnt, in after-times. I 
 may as well relate them now." 
 
 * These nets are now prohibited by law. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BAILLIE's MISADVENTURE IN SEAKCH OE " SATJ- 
 MON-EOE." — MODE OF FISHING WITH THAT PRO- 
 HIBITED BAIT. 
 
 " I WAS lying listlessly one day in summer thirty feet 
 beneath the surface, beyond the influence of the rapid 
 stream above, in the fathomless pool called The Pot, 
 some half-mile below Merton Bridge, a boat, kept in 
 its place by two light oars, floating above me, when 
 the fragments of a conversation reached my ears, and 
 by degrees absorbed my attention. A river-keeper 
 was detailing to his employer the circumstances con- 
 nected with the capturing of a poacher. 
 
 " ' Ay, sir,' he said, 'but that saumon-roe is a sair 
 temptation ; mony a guid mon has been beguiled bj 
 it, ar ken ane, a baillie : a took him mysel'/ 
 
4o Autobiography of 
 
 " ' How came that ? Tell us all about it,' was the 
 reply. 
 
 " ' Ar was watching, aiblins six montlis syne, up in 
 the Pavilion "Water; the fish were tbranging sair 
 upon the spawning-beds, and weal ar kenned they 
 were thrang on the bank abune the Wbirlies. Ar 
 was hidden in tbe wee brae just abune the brig, and 
 a hadna' been there mebbe twa hour, when ar see a 
 mon come daintily alang. Lookin' carefully tbis 
 way an' that, an' seein' naebody, he just out wi' the 
 gaiF, an', screwin' it on to tbe end of bis walking- 
 stick, stepped lightly into the water. It wouldna' be 
 mickle abune his knee, an' tbe back fin o' mair than 
 ae great fisb was plain to be seen on the bank before 
 him. 'Deed, but he wasted little time in selection, 
 an' wi' vara little ceremony he treated 'em. In a 
 second the gafi" was in a puir half-spawnit beastie, an', 
 luggin' her asbore, he started afi" het foot towards 
 Melrose. Ar up an' after him, an' for a weighty mon 
 he made mickle runnin'. "When he saw me he 
 dropped the fish, but no' stoppin' to pick it up, ar 
 just kept on under the railway brig, doon the mea- 
 dows, by Ailwand Toot, under Melrose Brig, an' 
 there, as he was creepin' up the steep bank, a grippit 
 bold of him ahint \ ar grippit hard, an' he turned 
 
The late Sabno Salar^ Esq, 41 
 
 and said, " Sandy, lad ! dinna grip sae liard ; ye'll 
 reeve ma breeks." "Ay, Baillie," said I, "i§ tliat 
 you? How cam' ye to doit?" And lie said quite 
 solemn-like, " Sandy ! " he said, " it was neether tlie 
 need nor the greed, but joo8t tlie mimion-roer' 
 " Ech, Eaillie," ar said, " a wadna' have believed it of 
 ye, but it will be dear saumon-roe to ye." And sae 
 it proved, for he was fined five pund, and ither harm 
 cam' of it.' 
 
 " ' And served him right,' said his companion ; ' a 
 man ought to be hanged who kills a spawning fish on 
 its bed-. "Why ! the very Jews by divine command 
 spared the sitting bird, the nursing mother ; and what 
 is the value of a flavourless bird laying half-a-dozen 
 eggs at most, to that of the noble salmon which lays 
 eight thousand ! ' 
 
 " ' 'Deed, ye speak true, sir,' said the other voice ; 
 ' an' its aye a strange thing to me, that ony ca'ing 
 themselves sportsmen can condescend to fisb wi' roe. 
 It's just no sport ava, an' the best trouts that are 
 killed, though the biggest in the haill river, are no 
 worth the kilhn' at that time o' year.' 
 
 "'Indeed, I believe you; but I never saw the 
 operation of fishing with roe. How is it per- 
 formed ? ' 
 
42 Autobiography of 
 
 " ' Aweel, ye require neither rod, uor line, nor gut, 
 nor reel, uor onything, but just a strong stick — a 
 stake out of tlie hedge is aboot as guid as anither — 
 an' a bit of cord, no matter how thick, and a heuk 
 with a bittock of lead to sink her, an' a lump of 
 roe as muckle mebbe as a marley is put intil it ; an' 
 ye tak' the highest flood and the darkest water, an' 
 ye stan' on the bank, an' the spent trout that have 
 spawned, ye ken, seek the still waters close in shore, 
 an' they're varra empty and hungry belike, an', when 
 ye feel they swallow the roe, ye just fling 'em ower 
 your head ; an' a' the best trout in Tweed are caught 
 that way.'* 
 
 " ' By Jove ! ' said his companion, ' your friend, the 
 baillie, deserved a ducking for his snobbishness, as 
 well as a fine for his wickedness ! I wish I had 
 
 * There are those who think that the common trout should 
 T3e annihilated, on account of the injury he does to the 
 salmon-roe. I differ ; hut, with that object in view, no more 
 efficient instrument exists than angling in spring with roe. 
 After all, trout only eat that portion of spawn which, from 
 two females in succession occupying the same spawning-bed 
 or from other causes, has been dislodged and floats down 
 the stream, and which under any circumstances must be lost. 
 The insidious attacks of the dragon-fly larvoe are a thousand 
 times more destructive, and, what is worse, impossible to be 
 guarded against. 
 
The late Salmo Salar^ Esq. 43 
 
 the power, and I'd make it felony to fish with salmou- 
 roe." 
 
 " Sinking down to the quiet depths below, and 
 pondering what I had heard, I fully concurred in the 
 sentiment last uttered, on general as well as selfish 
 grounds." 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE ASCENT OF THE RIYEE. — I EIND AGAIiN^ TO MY 
 COST THAT "all IS NOT GOLD THAT GLTTTEES," 
 AND AFEOED A PRACTICAL ILLUSTEATION OF 
 "the BITEE BITTEN." MY THIED GEEAT PEEIL. 
 
 " Dangees, fears, and perils forgotten, the next 
 morning found my companion and myself again at 
 the mouth of the river. The scarce-ebbing tide 
 brought with it the smell and taste of a freshet, the 
 result of the last night's rain, and we stemmed the 
 retreating tide more boldly as ^e felt the assurance 
 of good swimming- water above. 
 
 " It was Saturday mornmg ; from then to Monday 
 "the river is free ; so for thirty hours at least our 
 persecutors were restrained from crying ' Havoc ' 
 
Autobiooraphy of^ etc. 45 
 
 upon our devoted race. No net, no boat stopped 
 our way ; we swam joyously up stream, and by noon 
 tbat day bad passed tbe well-remembered Norliam 
 Bridge. Here we met a little crowd of frightened 
 fisb, returning to tbe sea, dismayed and disbeart- 
 ened, as well tbey migbt be. Tliis sparse band, 
 scarce balf a score in number, were all tbat re- 
 mained of some five hundred noble fish who had 
 attempted the passage but the day before. They 
 had escaped the long sea-nets, and the more deadly 
 drags used in the river ; they had been hunted in 
 the shallows, and pelted in the streams, and when 
 they might fairly hope for rest and safety, they had 
 found themselves debarred from the goal they 
 sought by a long, deep, heavy net fastened right 
 across the stream, silnk a little below the water, and 
 intended to keep the fish from passing upwards 
 during the short interval from Sunday to Monday, 
 when net-fishing ostensibly ceases, until they could 
 legally be dragged out of the pool on Monday morn- 
 ing. They urged us to return,* and seek the com- 
 
 * Running fish, especially grilse, are frequently turned back 
 by meeting others which, having been scared by the nets, are 
 again returning to the sea, thus affording a double chance of 
 capture to their vigilant enemies. 
 
4-6 Autobiography of 
 
 parative safety of tlie sea, swarming as it did with 
 our natural enemies, in preference to placing our- 
 selves within the power of those short-sighted, un- 
 principled scoundrels who disgrace the name of 
 fisherman ! Had I been unsupported, my natural 
 timidity, enhanced by the remembrance of the dan- 
 gers I had gone through, would have induced me to 
 accompany them, but my more experienced and 
 bolder companion overruled their counsel. She told 
 them how, by swimming on the surface of the water, 
 instead of the bed of the river, on which, to escape 
 the force of the stream, our course had hitherto 
 been held, we should escape the danger, and how 
 essential it was to our health, and the preservation 
 of our race, that the upper waters, where alone 
 fitting spawning-beds could be found, should be 
 reached ; she pointed out how even yet the sea-lice 
 clung to our gills and bodies, and promised us that 
 twenty-four hours' sojoui'n in the fresh water would 
 relieve us from every one : finally, taunting us with 
 timidity in proposing to go back after daring so 
 much and advancing so far, she succeeded in per- 
 suading us to risk all chances and follow her lead. 
 For myself, I dashed recklessly after her over the 
 net of which we had already taken stock, as we 
 
The late Salmo Salar^ Esq, 47 
 
 advanced towards it. Many of our companions fol- 
 lowed, and a few hours brought us, without further 
 let or hindrance, to the Cauld Pool, below the well- 
 remembered ruins of Dryburgh Abbey, where all 
 that is mortal of the great poet and novelist of 
 Scotland lies interred. Here, taking advantage of 
 the comparatively still water behind a large sub- 
 merged rock, we rested motionless and silent, and 
 though ' we, like mortals, never sleep,' enjoyed that 
 perfect rest which cessation from labour, and total 
 oblivion from cares and troubles, ever bring with 
 them. 
 
 " This, and a portion of the following day were 
 thus serenely spent. The sea-lice which had clung 
 to our scales dropped off, unable to exist in the 
 fresh water, and no care or trouble was present. A 
 restless feeling had, indeed, arisen within me, and I 
 was on the point of suggesting to my companions a 
 movement higher and still higher up the stream, 
 when my attention was attracted by what appeared 
 to me a familiar object — a shrimp or prawn, or some 
 other small native of the ocean so lately quitted, 
 such as had furnished me with many a satisfactory 
 meal. It floated gently over my head, not parti- 
 cularly bright in colour, but showy, and its hues, 
 
48 AtUo biography of 
 
 whicli were dispersed unifornily over its body, 
 blended together, and formed one harmonious whole. 
 Its movements were short and rapid, such as are 
 those o£ the insects — ' Crustacese,' I think, is the 
 proper term — I have referred to, and it seemed to 
 be striving, with doubtful result, to stem. the some- 
 what rapid stream. What induced me I cannot 
 say ; I was not hungry ; indeed, 1 had felt no desire 
 to eat since I entered the fresh water ; I was hardly 
 in the mood for play, for I. felt that the serious 
 business of life was before me ; but, impelled by 
 some unaccountable impulse, I rose from my rest- 
 ing-place, and attempted to seize it in m}^ mouth. 
 The motion was rapid, but still too slow to be effec- 
 tual ; the creature vanished ere my lips could close 
 on it. Whilst turning slowly round to seek my 
 former station — somewhat sulkily, too, for the ob- 
 ject I had failed to attain had, in consequence, ac- 
 quired a value it had not previously possessed — I 
 heard a voice say — 
 
 " ' Ay, but that was a bonny grilse ! Ay, but it 
 was a grand rise he made, too ! Te were ower 
 quick in striking.' 
 
 " ' I think I was,' was the reply, ' but we'll try 
 
TJie late Sal/no Salar^ Esq. 49 
 
 " ' Bide a wee, sir ; bide a wee ; give Mm time to 
 return to liis old station before you show liim tlie 
 flee again.' 
 
 " Utterly unconscious of tlie meaning of these 
 words,* and in no respect connecting them with my- 
 self or my doings, I saw with some surprise, not un- 
 mixed with pleasure, the little jerking figure again 
 passing within three feet of my nose. There was a 
 band of silver round its throat that excited my cupi- 
 dity, and I was, moreover, somewhat nettled at the 
 failure of my previous attempt to seize it. Without 
 a moment's pause, I dashed at it, and, seizing the 
 bright wings between my lips, was prepared, at 
 least, to carry it down with me, to be swallowed or 
 not, as I might choose ; when, to my amazement and 
 alarm, ere I could as much as turn away after my 
 spring, the creature snatched itself from out my very 
 jaws, and vanished as it had previously done. Sulky 
 and annoyed, I sought again my resting-place, and 
 again I heard the same voice which had before spoken, 
 
 " ' 'Deed, sir, ye were just ower hasty again ; ye 
 dinna let the fash tak' a grip of the flee before you 
 snatch it out of his mouth.' 
 
 * I trust tlie young reader may not be equally so ; it is a 
 golden rule. — Ed. 
 
50 Autobiography of 
 
 " ' Xever mind, Sandy ; we'll try again.' 
 
 "'A'm thinking I'll just change the flee; mebhe 
 he's seen ower niuckle of this ane.' 
 
 "E-ead by the light of after experience, these 
 words were plain enough ; but, young and inexperi- 
 enced as I was, they conveyed no meaning, no warn- 
 ing, and it can hardly be wondered at that, tanta- 
 lized as I had been, no sooner did I see a creature 
 similar in form and colour to the other, but some- 
 what smaller and brighter, apparently striving to 
 stem the stream a little above me, than, again dash- 
 ing at it, I seized it firmly, and, turning round, was 
 going back to my lair, when I felt a sharp smart, a 
 convulsive shock thrilled through my frame, and I 
 found myself madly struggling against some great 
 unknown, invisible p)ower, which controlled my will, 
 and, for a time at least, rendered me helpless — al- 
 most hopeless. 
 
 " "Willing to realize the worst, and anxious to 
 learn something certain respecting my condition, I 
 rushed upwards, and, jumping high in the air, saw 
 two men standing on the bank, the connection of 
 whose movements with my own j)osition T had no 
 difficulty in tracing. The one with a long rod in his 
 hand, the line from which restrained and controlled 
 
The late Salnio Salar^ Esq. 5 i 
 
 me, stood motionless ; whilst the other, with a hor- 
 rible hook attached to the end of a stick in his hand, 
 seemed to be aiding and advising him. 
 
 " * Canny, lad,' I heard him say : ' canny, noo ; he 
 is but light heukit ; I ken by his jumpin'. Canny, 
 noo ; he's just a fresh-run grilse, an' his mouth unco 
 saft.' 
 
 " I had heard enough ; and by this time my terror 
 had somewhat abated, and my natural energy re- 
 turned in aid of the strength with which I was 
 gifted. No longer coursing about the pool with 
 aimless rapidity, or w^asting my strength in fruitless 
 jumps, I dropped back gradually into the deep pool 
 behind, and, sinking to the bottom, lay motionless 
 behind the big rock I had so lately quitted. My 
 companion kept ever beside me,* and, though she 
 could render no assistance, her presence was an aid 
 and consolation to me, and I felt cooler and stronger 
 for her sympathy. Aided by the weight of water 
 above me, I defied the power still exercised by my 
 persecutor to move me. I felt but little pain, and, 
 but. for the choking sensation occasioned by the in- 
 terference of the free passage of water through my 
 gills, little annoyance; and it was only on observing a 
 * A fact of constant occurrence. — Ed. 
 
 e2 
 
52 Autobiography of^ etc, 
 
 huge stone, tlirown for the purpose of dislodging 
 me, descending directly upon my head, that I started 
 from lair. Eushing wildly away, my escape was 
 brought about by the very means intended for my 
 destruction. Impeded by the line, my movement 
 was slow, and the stone, barely missing me, fell 
 upon the line itself, released the hook from the 
 slight hold it had in my mouth, and I felt that I was 
 free ! Joyous, exulting in my deliverance, I again 
 sought the surface, and, as I jumped two or three 
 times out of the water, I had the satisfaction of ob- 
 sernng visible marks of disappointment and regret 
 on the countenances of my friends on shore. The 
 one stood with his rod straight upwards, his line 
 floating down the stream, himself in the precise atti- 
 tude in which he had maintained that dead, strong 
 pull against me, which, by exhausting my strength, 
 bad so nearly proved fatal; the other was apparently 
 solacing himself with a pinch of snufF, and the only 
 words I heard him utter were — 
 
 " ' Ay, but you was a bonuy grilse ! Dcil tak' the 
 stane ! '" 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 I FOREGATHER WITH A KELT, WHOSE GALLANT 
 STRUGGLE AND ULTIMATE CAPTURE I WITNESS. 
 
 " The Cauld Pool, so lately a pleasant liaveii of rest, 
 was no longer an abiding-])lace for nie. The dread 
 and terror I bad endured were associated with every 
 rock and stone about me ; * and, had T stayed there 
 for a month to come, I am certain that no gaud, how- 
 ever cunningly devised, would have tempted me so 
 much as to look at it. The freshet, however, still 
 continued ; there was good swimming-water, and that 
 very night, my faithful companion by my side, I 
 
 * It is a singular fact that fish which have got off the hook, 
 although consistently refusing the fly in that pool or stream, 
 will take it without distrust in another. 
 
54 Autobiography of 
 
 ascended the heavy fall of water which rolled over 
 the dam, and proceeded onwards towards those faintly 
 but dearly remembered scenes of my early youth, 
 the waters of Upper Tweed. 
 
 " I may here correct a very common error as to the 
 manner in which we salmon ascend a rapid. In many 
 pictures, in many books, we are represented as leaping 
 over a rapid some fifteen or twenty feet in height; in 
 some of ancient date, we are depicted as taking our 
 tails in our mouths and springing upwards, like skip- 
 jacks, by the force of liberated tension; this is simply 
 absurd. Excepting in the exuberance of animal 
 spirits, the exultation arising from escaped danger, 
 or under the peculiar influence caused by a change in 
 the weight of the atmosphere, we. never Jz;w^j9 ; U'e 
 8wim upwards, and the effort carries us beyond the 
 surface high into the air ; we swim up a rapid, and 
 what appears like a jump is nothing more than the 
 abortive result of a misdirected effort; an attempt, 
 in fact, to swim in a perpendicular direction up a 
 stream, which descends more or less horizontally. 
 
 " One or two failures occurred, but with little diffi- 
 culty wc surmounted the obstacle, and, passing 
 rapidly onwards by the low green meadows and 
 woody banks above Melrose, we made no further 
 
The late Salvio Salar^ Esq, ^^ 
 
 pause till we reached that long extent of unrivalled 
 water, where may still be seen the foundations of the 
 old bridge, the gate of which, in the days when ' the 
 Monastery ' was still itself, was kept by the churlish 
 Peter, the bridgeward. Here, again, choosing our 
 station behind a projecting stone, we rested ; and, 
 whilst many of our companions passed onwards, a 
 considerable number, and those of a large size, took 
 up their position around us. Indeed, the place was, 
 in every respect, satisfactory, and adapted to our 
 requirements. The bed shelving gradually from the 
 southern side, the force of the stream increased 
 proportionately to its depth, so that, with the least 
 trouble, we could seek such depth and strength of 
 water as suited our tastes for the time. Excepting a 
 few large stones, behind which we usually lay, the 
 bottom of the stream was perfectly level ; and, as the 
 river made a considerable angle on the opposite side, 
 beneath the steep, wood-crowned bank, we could at 
 any time bask in the sun, or exchange its sultry 
 beams for the cool shadow beyond. 
 
 " In addition to the companions of our voyage, and 
 many others who had previously ascended with the 
 same object — to deposit their spawn on the gravelly 
 beds, so common in the upper waters — our pool con- 
 
56 Autobiog7'apJiy of 
 
 tained a large number of kelts : * fish, that is, which 
 during the preceding winter and early spriug had 
 successfully deposited their spawm, and were now 
 sinking downwards by easy stages towards that land, 
 if I may use an Irishism, of plenty, the sea. These 
 kelts were the jolliest of fish ; they seemed like 
 married men escaped for a short time from the cares 
 of a family and the troubles of housekeeping. They 
 ate minnow^s, and parr, and the late samlets of the 
 previous year, water insects, flies, worms, and 
 slugs, and, in fact, whatever came uppermost. 
 Though thin and emaciated when they left the 
 spawning beds, good cheer told upon them, and I 
 have rarely seen a handsomer specimen of our race 
 than a grand eighteen-pound kelt, with whom I 
 struck up a passiug acquaintance as we sheltered 
 behind adjoining stones in the Brig End Pool. He 
 was, perhaps, a trifle longer in proportion to his 
 
 * I have constantlj observed m the Tield pungent gibes 
 directed against the slayer of the kelt. In the same paper, too, 
 I occasionally observe diatribes upon battue -shooting, vhich is 
 likened to slaying cocks and hens in a farmyard. Now, I am 
 no friend to over-preser\ang, and fully admit that battue-shoot- 
 ing may be carried too far ; but the man who can stand at a 
 cross-ride and toss four out of six rocketing pheasants dead ten 
 yards behind him, or can land " weel mendit" kelts in Tweed, 
 in the month of May, is not a muff I 
 
TJie late Sahno Salar^ Esq. 57 
 
 depth than a fresli-run fish ; his hack had a hluish 
 tinge, and he was less thick about the tail ; but the 
 scales beneath were of silvery white; he was well- 
 proportioned and well-favoured ; and his strength 
 was maDifested by ihe ease with which he poised 
 himself, like a bird in the air, even in the rapid part 
 of the stream. AVhat fun it must be, thought I, to 
 be hungry ! as I saw him dash playfully upwards at 
 a gaudy-winged butterfly which, after hovering u 
 moment above us, had dropped apparently exhausted 
 into the stream, and was now, despite its struggles, 
 drowning, as I thought ! I bad seen my friend the 
 day before, when the water was somewhat muddy, 
 absolutely gorge himself upon dead worms, and other 
 not over-delicate debris, that floated down the stream. 
 The butterfly was more to my own taste, and, as he 
 rose at the painted fly, he rose in my estimation. 
 But what is this? Scarcely had he, with a sweep of 
 his mighty tail, reached tlie surface, when he de- 
 scended again, rushing by me in evident horror and 
 alarm, and seeking, with a rapid but rather con- 
 strained motion, the dark depths below. The facts 
 of the case were apparent to me instantly. My 
 poor friend, in the buoyancy of his spirits, had 
 seized, more in playfulness than in greed, the trea- 
 
58 Autobiography of 
 
 cherous imitation of a fly, cast by one of the dead- 
 liest foes to our race on Tweed. No hope of release 
 from a friendly misdirected stone was here : if a 
 stone were thrown by him it might startle, but never 
 loose, the fish ; and, confident in the strength of his 
 tackle and the delicacy of his touch, little did the 
 fisher heed the poor kelt's attempt at sulking. Not, 
 as in my case, was the strain upwards, giving me the 
 advantage of the whole weight of water to increase 
 the resistance ; sideways was the force exerted, at an 
 angle which deprived the devoted fish of all help 
 from that source.* Indeed, the run of the stream 
 was in the direction of the slow, strong, steady pull, 
 persistently kept up, to which, at first slowly, but 
 eventually with a rush, like that of a hawk through 
 the air, the kelt was constrained to yield. Dashing 
 up stream, with a velocity still comparable to that of 
 the bird, he sought the rough pass above the railway 
 bridge, where haply he might cut the line against the 
 sharp edges of the rocks, or rub the cruel hook from 
 the jaw in which it was too securely fixed ; but this 
 was not allowed. The strong, pliant rod was in no 
 
 * The only mode I have ever found efficacious for moving a 
 sulking fish is here described. The leverage applied at the 
 proper angle, it is impossible the fish can long resist it. 
 
The late Sal?no Salar^ Esq. 59 
 
 tyro's band, and the maddest efforts of the fish were 
 controlled by a power which could never be measured 
 or met by opposed strength, and was felt to be 
 irresistible. In vain, rushing upwards, did the poor 
 kelt leap three feet from the surface of the water 
 into the thin air, hoping to fall upon the line in his 
 descent, and so disengage the biting hook ; in vain, I 
 say, for rod, and eye, aud line, and hand seemed 
 guided by one impulse alone, and that derived from 
 the struggling fish. As he jumped, the hand yielded, 
 the rod bent, the strain of the line loosened ; and the 
 quiet eye twinkled with exultation, as, gaining no- 
 thing by the exhausting effort, the poor fish sought 
 again his native element. "Weakened and failing, 
 unable to drag the weighty line against the rapid 
 stream, the fish now turned his head downwards, and 
 with a simulation rather than reality, of strength, 
 dashed away at his former pace. But swimming 
 down stream, with a hook in one's mouth, is a game 
 that cannot be long played. Breathing, as fishes 
 breathe, becomes impossible ; and with pain I 
 speedily beheld my poor acquaintance turn on his 
 side, and approach, with no will of his own, the low 
 shelving bank of shingle, where the shallow water 
 left half his huge body exposed, A large net was 
 
6o AiitobiograpJiy of^ etc. 
 
 passed under him, iind while, as he was dragged 
 ashore, the exulting ' whoo whoop!' of his captor 
 rang in my ears, I naturally concluded that I had 
 seen the last of my gallant, handsome, ill-fjited 
 friend ; such, however, was not the case ; and the 
 conversation that reached me before he was returned 
 to the water, as to my great surprise he was, ex- 
 plained the cause of his good fortune." 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 " THOU EASIT INTRUDING EOOL ! I TOOK THEE 
 FOR THY BETTERS." Hamlet. 
 
 " ' Hurrah ! liiirrali ! A clean iisli at last ! And 
 what a beauty ! "What do you think of tliat?' 
 
 " ' Hoot ! It's no fash ava ! It's joost a kelt 
 beastie.' 
 
 " ' A kelt ! Why, now I look at it, it is a kelt ; but 
 it is a grand fish, and the sport it showed first-rate.' 
 
 " ' And what for no' ? A fish that's fattened in the 
 river, wi' guid, wholesome food, is just as strong as 
 ony fattened in the sea, an' it kens, mind ye, every 
 hole, and stream, and rock in the pool, an' it's no' sae 
 frightened at the bank's side as a fash fresh-run from 
 the sea, where there is no bound on ony side.' 
 
62 Autobiography of 
 
 " '■ And about the eating ?' 
 
 " ' Weel, I'll no' say that the eating is sae guid as 
 a clean fresh-run saumon : 'deed, there's naethiug in 
 nature can beat that ; the fash caught in the nets are 
 no' to be compared to it; but it's guid, wholesome 
 food for a' that, an' dainty eneuch. I was up to 
 London ten years syne to gie evidence, as they ca' it, 
 anent saumon and sich like, an' ech ! the evidence I 
 lieard gi'en ! There was ae lad swore that Ms fish 
 were bred in the sea, an' had no necessity to come to 
 the rivers at a' ! There was anither swore that it 
 was the Saturday's slap that destroyed the fish, for it 
 just allowed those who would have returned to the 
 sea, there to spawn in safety, to gae up the river to 
 be kilt by the poacher ! I saw on the stalls of the 
 fishmongers, as ye ca' them, mony mair kelts than 
 clean fish ; an', though they were a thought paler in 
 colour, an', I kenned weel, vara inferior in taste, they 
 seemed to sell t'ane as well as t'tither.' 
 
 " ' Then you think kelts ought to be killed ? ' 
 " ' Hoo', not at a' ! But a kelt that is fit to be kilt 
 an' eaten should be kilt an' eaten. What for no' ? 
 Ye'll tak' aiblins twal or aughteen fish in a morning, 
 an', out of them a', twa, or four mebbe, are weel 
 mendit ; a'd gie tliem a tap on the head, an' they're 
 
TJie late Sabno Salar^ Esq. (^'^ 
 
 just tlie fash that gie the greatest sport, au' mony 
 ane dees from exhaustion when putten back into the 
 river, the rest might swim away an' be thankful, 
 an' if some of them dee, what are they after a' but 
 single fish ? ' 
 
 "Whilst speaking, my friend had carefully dis- 
 engaged the hook from the gasping fish, and, with 
 one hand below its body beneath the water, and the 
 other grasping its tail, had launched him, as it were, 
 into the deep pool. As it felt itself loosed from 
 restraint, a convulsive effort of the tail drove the 
 sickened, half-alive beast some five feet diagonally 
 across the stream, and then it helplessly resigned 
 itself to the force of the water, floating unresistingly 
 down stream. Whether the good fish lived or died 
 I know not ; but if it died — and many that have 
 been hooked, and fought well, I know have died — 
 it were better that it should have furnished food for 
 human beings than for the foul-feeding carrion-crow, 
 or the slimy ravenous eel. 
 
 " Time passed on, and still found me a denizen of 
 Brig End Pool. Fish came and went, and some tarried 
 beside me, and some passed upward. The kelts, one 
 and all, dropped down the stream by degrees, and 
 by the end of May not one was left. In August, 
 
64 AiLtobiography of 
 
 I found myself surrounded either by fisli of my 
 own standing, v>-hich had passed months in tlie water, 
 or fresli-run sahnon, the early kelts of the preceding 
 year, wdiich had now returned from the salt water. 
 
 '^ During my sojourn in the pool, many and many 
 a lure passed over me, and many times I felt half 
 inclined to seize the tempting bait, but I always re- 
 strained myself ; every rock, and ripple, and cliff, and 
 stream reminded me of the struggles of my friend the 
 aforesaid kelt, or some other doomed fish, for many 
 a gallant struggle w^as I witness to between the 
 fisherman and the credulous fish, the victim of his 
 perfidious art. Of these some escaped, but the 
 majority were, after more or less resistance, dragged 
 ashore and hilled. Of the various . wiles practised 
 by those fortunates wdio did escape, it may be 
 interesting to make some passing mention. One, I 
 remember, a grand fish of some eighteen pounds 
 weight, at the first touch of the hook dashed with 
 lightning speed dow^n stream, turning neither to the 
 right nor to the left, running out a hundred yards of 
 line. The fisherman having neglected to tie a knot 
 at the end, there was nothing to stop it, and the 
 great fish sailed away seawards, dragging in his wake 
 two pounds' worth of excellent tackle. No doubt a 
 
The late Salmo Salai'^ Esq. 65 
 
 few Hours relieved him from the encumbrance, and 
 his would-be captor paid not too dearly for a lesson 
 he was unlikely to forget. One very extraordinary 
 escape I witnessed was precisely analogous to my 
 own when a smolt. The fish was hooked from the 
 north or high shore ; terrified apparently beyond the 
 influence of instinct or reason, he dashed madly up 
 the shelving bank on the opposite side, and lay 
 gasping three feet beyond the shoal water. Taken 
 aback by this utterly unexpected manoeuvre, the 
 fisherman slackened his hold, and the fish, with the 
 same effort that restored him to his native waters, 
 shook the hook out of his mouth. I have seen fish 
 escape by running rapidly round a rock, obtaining 
 either for themselves a dead pull, and so wrenching 
 the barb from their jaws, or, leaving a dead pull 
 against the rock to the fisherman, afiford him an 
 excellent opportunity of breaking his tackle and 
 releasing his prey. I have seen a fish spring three 
 feet out of the water, when struck, and contrive in 
 his descent to fall on the line, so as to break the 
 hold of the hook. I have seen many, when but 
 slightly hooked, by a violent and continuous effort 
 sliake the hook out of their mouths ; and I have seen 
 others, well hooked but too tightly held, break the 
 
66 Autobiography of 
 
 strong line like pack-thread, or straighten the hook 
 itself as though it were made of pin- wire. Bat 
 l^erhaps the most efficacious, and to the fisherman 
 annoying, mode of escape, was one not uncommonly 
 practised by a clean-run vigorous fish. Indeed, I 
 must own that, though the kelts showed more craft 
 and cunning, and. had great physical j)ower, +he 
 fresh-run fish, for a clean rush and a stand-up fight, 
 beat them hollow. The dodge they practised was as 
 follows: swimming near the surface, and rushing 
 down stream some thirty or forty yards, they sud- 
 denly sought the bottom, and returned upon their 
 tracks with scarce diminished speed.' The weighty 
 water bagging out the line, gave the fisher, more 
 especially if a tyro, the idea that his intended 
 victim's course was still downwards, and, paying out 
 line rapidly, he enabled the fish to bring such a 
 weight of water upon it as eventually to necessitate 
 its breakage. The first intimation Piscator had of 
 the escape of his prey was the exulting bound of the 
 salmon some fifty yards above the spot which m his 
 imagination it occupied attached to his line. This 
 mode of eftecting an escape I have heard designated 
 as drowninrj, and certainly I have seen fishermen, 
 after the manoeuvre had been practised at their 
 
The late Saliiio Salar^ Esq. 67 
 
 expense, look as thougli drowning were an enviable 
 escape from their mortification. Another most 
 successful manoeuvre resorted to by a booked fish, 
 especially if a long line were thrown, was the running 
 in of tbe salmon right to the feet of the fisherman. 
 In vain the rod was held aloft, in vain the reel was 
 wound with reckless haste, in vain its holder receded 
 from the river bank ; the line would become slack, 
 and a shake and a scuffle at once got rid of the hook, 
 unless it had penetrated more than ordinarily deep, 
 or had struck upon some soft part of the fish's 
 mouth. Happily, however, for us, there are few 
 such parts in our mouths ; if fresh-run the palate is 
 soft, but the bone is hard beneath, and, if we have 
 been long in the water, it is hard throughout ; whether 
 or not a regular, firm, and equal strain must be kept 
 on the hook, or the fish escapes ; if the stram be 
 too strong, the rod, or the line, or the gut, or 
 the hook, or the hold in the mouth is broken ; if it be 
 slack, it is at once, and with ease, shaken out. 
 There is, in fact, no sort of sporting in which the 
 quarry has such odds in his favour as the salmon. I 
 allude, of course, to fair fishing with the rod and 
 line '. it were a blithe day for the salmon when they 
 
 e2 
 
68 Autobiography of^ etc, 
 
 had no worse enemies than anglers to contend 
 with.* 
 
 * I should think so ! In a water I once rented, I killed 
 during six weeks, at an expense of a hundred pounds, forty fish, 
 and was considered to have had good sport. Out of one pool 
 on the same water, eighty fish have been taken at a single haul 
 of the net ! I have since rented one of the best waters on 
 Tweed, and continue to do so. The fishing-book would show 
 that a hundred fish have never been, for the last ten years, 
 killed in any one year, yet a hundred pounds, at least, is spent, 
 in addition to rent, solely in preservation of the fish. The 
 " lower proprietors," who owe all to us, grudge even this poor 
 return for our outlay. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 MY FAITHFUL COMPANION IS TORN FROM MY SIDE 
 AND RUTHLESSLY SLAIN. — I MORALISE THEREON, 
 
 AND PROCEED UPWARDS. THE WATERFALL. THE 
 
 SPAWNING BEDS. — MORTALITY AMONG THE KELTS.— 
 I COMMENCE MY RETURN TO THE SEA. 
 
 "The seasons wore on; summer had melted into 
 autumn, and the breath of winter had blown icily on 
 the woody banks of the beautiful river. Strange 
 colours were reflected from the banks in lieu of the 
 dark green that had so long prevailed, and the dead 
 leaves, whirled around by the eddies of the fitful 
 wind, were deposited by millions on the bosom of the 
 water, floating down stream, as though they, like the 
 swallows, were bent on migrating to some happier 
 
70 Autobiography of 
 
 land. It was high time to seek the spawniiig-beds 
 in the upper waters, towards which our course had 
 been all along directed, and, though with somewhat 
 impaired vigour, with an equally strong will, we 
 recommenced our ascent. 
 
 " I think there is no creature on whom the lessons- 
 of experience are more completely thrown away than 
 upon one of our race. Continually, for weeks past, 
 we had observed with anxious eye the wiles practised 
 for our destruction. But the moment we left the 
 scene of our temptation, and the associations con- 
 nected therewith, it seemed that all previous know- 
 ledge and caution, acquired by experience, had left 
 us also. We had proceeded scarcely a mile on our 
 upw^ard journey, and were tarrying in the Boldside 
 Water, when my companion, rising, in pure wanton- 
 ness, at the semblance of an errant butterfly whose 
 white-tipped wings,* apparently failing from weak- 
 ness, seemed to have precipitated it on to the surface 
 of the w^ater, found herself securely hooked, and, 
 rendered w^eak by her condition, was dragged, as 
 I had seen many a good fish before, helplessly resist- 
 ing to the shore. I was not, however, hopeless as to 
 her fate. Surely, I thought, these men who respect 
 * No more killing fly on Tweed than the " white tip." 
 
The late Salvio Salar^ Esq. 71 
 
 a solitary kelt, because, in time to come, he or 
 she may become a parent, will be most careful of the 
 teemiug mother, about to produce thousands after 
 her kind at once. But T was wrong. To my horror, 
 I saw a dreadful instrument, calleil a gaff,* stuck 
 into her side, and in a moment, bleeding and helpless, 
 she was laid on the shingle, where a blow on the head 
 from a rouud stone speedily released her from her 
 pain. To some indistinct proposition of putting ber 
 back into the water as useless, a muttered answer 
 was returned to the effect that she would be equally 
 useless there, ' with that muckle hole in her wame.' 
 brightened and hori-ified, I left the spot, meditating 
 sadly on the inconsistency of sparing the single fisJi, 
 and slaying the one about to produce thousands. 
 " The water had again risen, and very many fish 
 
 . * The use of the gaff is, I believe, now prohibited during the 
 autumn months, hut is frequently used nevertheless. Hundreds 
 of fish full of spawn, which would otherwise he returned to the 
 water, are killed for no better reason than that suggested in the 
 text. A barbed gaff should he prohibited under any circum- 
 stances and at all seasons ; it is essentially a poacher's weapon, 
 and a deadly one. It is the instrument by which three-fourths 
 of the fish are taken from the Usk in October. A plain gaff, 
 such as a sportsman uses, would be almost useless to them, the 
 fish would struggle off it. I have in vain urged this self- 
 evident proposition on the authorities. — Ed. 
 
72 Antobiography of 
 
 were thronging upwards on the same errand. Some, 
 like myself, had come up in pairs ; many, like ' Hal 
 of the "Wynd,' on their own hand ; and I observed 
 that the predominant feeling was cordial dislike and 
 jealousy between the individual members, at least 
 among the kippers — the male fish — of the ascending 
 crowd. For myself, I shrank moodily in the rear. 
 I was no match for many of the great fish I saw 
 around me ; and I, like them, had what would have 
 been a disadvantage in the event of a fight, for a 
 great horny substance like a beak had gradually 
 grown up from my lower jaw, and fitted into a cor- 
 responding aperture in the upper. It seemed as 
 though we could scarcely open our mouths to feed, 
 much less to bite ; though I afterwards found by 
 experience I could "do either on provocation. How- 
 ever I was sad and sorrowful and lonely, and shrank 
 from the companionship of my fellows. Still I 
 struggled onwards. Sorrow abideth not with youth 
 — grief fadeth away, and joy, as of old, cometh in 
 the morning. One morning, a freshet breathing 
 through my gills inspired me with all the vigour, if 
 not the buoyancy of the days of my early ascent, 
 and I strenuously urged my striving upward way 
 towards the spawning-grounds, the goal of our hopes. 
 
The late Salvio Salar^ Esq, 73 
 
 No jumping now, no springing out of the water, as 
 in the exuberance of our young elastic spirits at our 
 -early entrance into fresh water ; but we swam 
 strongly, steadily, soberly along, moving principally 
 at night, and making about three miles an hour. 
 The falls between the cauld-pools of Mertoun and old 
 Melrose are passed, the bright, rapid streams above 
 ascended ; and we deem ourselves within easy reach 
 of the gravelly beds and shallow aerated waters 
 beneath which the hopes of a future race are to be 
 deposited, when an obstacle apparently insurmount- 
 able opposes itself, in the shape of a nearly perpen- 
 dicular fall of water over a rugged rock some twelve 
 feet in height. Now commences a wild and in some 
 cases fatal dance amid the baulked crowd : all rush 
 boldly forward ; some essay to swim, but the white 
 treacherous water aids them not. Some attempt to 
 jump, but the height is far beyond their powers; 
 beaten, exhausted, bleeding from contact with the 
 sharp points of the rocks, we sink back, one by one, 
 to the pool below."* 
 
 The aspect of my narrator here suddenly changed, 
 presenting either a real or fancied resemblance to 
 
 * The fish, ladders and passes invented by Mr. F. Buckland 
 have, in many rivers, effectually remedied this evil. — Ed. 
 
74 Autobiography of 
 
 that of the old river-keeper, under whose guidance 
 I had Lately fished with signal success some of the 
 waters described above. Nor was it his aspect only 
 that was changed, for, raising his voice to a petulant, 
 almost menacing tone, and speaking in a new dialect, 
 he resumed : — 
 
 " "Why, mon, what dom'd eternal fules ye a' be ! 
 Te write anent saumon in a' the papers — in the 
 ' Sporting Gazette ' and ' Bell's Life,' in the ' Eield ' 
 and in ' Land and Water/ which is, far away, the 
 best of the whole ; ye claver anent saumon at your 
 clubs and your dinners, at hame and abroad, at 
 market — aiblins at Kirk ; ye leegislate about saumon, 
 and ye persecute puir fisher bodies wha dinna ken 
 reet frae wrang, nor hardly their reet hands frae 
 their left, an' your writers an' your talkers an' your 
 leegislators joost ken naothing mair about the mat- 
 ter than the puir bodies ye send to gaol for takin' a 
 few fash — not ower bright mebbe, but guid an' 
 wholesome — at the oDy time of the year they can 
 tak' them ; an' ye save the kelts in spring, an' kill 
 the baggits in autumn. There's but ae mon in braid 
 England that kens onything about the matter ; that's 
 Frank Buckland, an' he's mickle to learn yet. Why 
 don't ye leegislate for the ripe baggits ? The savin' 
 
The late Sahio Salar^ Esq. 75 
 
 of the kelts was a grand straik, and mickle gude 
 thereby ; but why dinua ye save the ripe baggits 
 that are worth ilka aue a thousand kelts? Why 
 diuna ye encourage the rod-fishers ? puir fule bodies 
 that spend hundreds an' thousands of punds ster- 
 ling joost for the chance, an' aiblins a bad ane, of 
 takin' an odd fash or twa now and again. The rod- 
 fishers are the real preservers of the water I say, an' 
 I wish they were on frae January to December. 
 Why dinna ye mak' siccan passes up the weirs an' 
 falls as fash can sivim up ? We diuna want stairs 
 or ladders or gimcracks ; we want black water, such 
 as a fash may swim in. We care na how steep or 
 how high, so they can swim ; a fash is no' an Irish 
 hodman, an' he canna tcdk up a ladder of white 
 water. Why dinna ye buy up the mills an' the mill- 
 dams,* which are joost fash traps ? Why — " 
 
 " Sir ! " interrupted I, half stunned by his rapid 
 utterance and threatening tone — when suddenly 
 
 * This query of our choleric friend applies with equal force 
 to mills and mill-dams throughout the country. On the hanks 
 of the Ouse, the Welland, and other sluggish rivers are thou- 
 sands of acres of valuahle land utterly destroyed hy the con- 
 stantly-recurring floods caused by the successive mill-dams on 
 their course. The increased produce of a single year would 
 pay twice over the purchase money of existing rights. 
 
76 Autobiography of 
 
 the fire faded from his eye, he sank back on the 
 seat, and resumed the placid appearance of the quiet, 
 grey-coated, somewhat prosy traveller, who had so 
 long engrossed my attention. 
 
 " Eor days we lingered disheartened in the pool ; 
 hut a heavy flood came at last, and with compara- 
 tively little difficulty we surmounted the hitherto 
 impassable barrier, and speedily arrived at the spawn- 
 ing-beds — a broad expanse of water a few miles 
 above the falls, with a bottom of deep gravel, over 
 which the river flowed at depths varying from six 
 inches to three feet. One or two tributaries on 
 either side added w^eight to the stream, and deposited 
 at their mouths additional banks of gravel, on which 
 and on those more in the centre of the stream the 
 female fish, after a few days' rest, commenced making 
 their redds, digging great troughs in the gravel by 
 working ther fins and the lower part of their bodies 
 against it. There was a wild scene meanwhile among 
 the kippers, the larger driving the smaller away and 
 fighting madly among themselves, swimming in 
 circles around the redds. The wounds inflicted by 
 some of these great fish were terrible, and many a 
 lusty young kipper was killed outright. 
 
 " The spawning over, and the eggs destined to 
 
The late Sabno Salar^ Esq. 77 
 
 produce young safely buried beneath a mass of 
 gravel, partly placed by the spawning fish and partly 
 deposited by the action of the water, we revenged 
 ourselves upon the great kippers, now weak, ex- 
 hausted, and defenceless, by biting at their fins and 
 tails, and otherwise maltreating them. Hundreds 
 died, and were swept downwards by the rapid stream, 
 furnishing food as they went to insects and carrion 
 birds and foul-feeding eels, and, strange to say, when 
 washed ashore, occasionally to cows and other beasts, 
 until, swept out to sea, the remnant was finally de- 
 voured by those general scavengers of ocean, shrimps, 
 prawns, crabs, and lobsters. Millions of light eggs 
 were carried down by the water and devoured by 
 hungry trout waiting below on purpose to intercept 
 and feed on them. And why not ? All-bounteous 
 Nature provides nothing in vain ; and when one 
 female produces from five thousand to twenty 
 thousand eggs, it may be fairly inferred that 
 a part was intended for other purposes than hatch- 
 ing. 
 
 " Sinkmg gradually backwards, oifering scarcely 
 more opposition to the hurrying waters than was 
 required to keep my head up-stream, I floated 
 rather than swam downwards till I reached the 
 
78 Autobiography of 
 
 Cauld Poole aboA^e Melrose. Here I rested, and 
 here, my appetite growing with the increasing days, 
 I glutted myself with food of the most nourishing, 
 if not of the choicest description. I wish those 
 wiseacres who assert t1iat we salmon never feed in 
 fresh water could have seen our daily bill of fare, — 
 worms, flies, water-insects, small trout, smolts by 
 hundreds, nothing came amiss, and we throve on our 
 varied fare. When I entered the pool I was large- 
 headed, lank in body, poor in spirit, and flabby in 
 flesh, almost white in colour throughout, and with just 
 strength enough to keep my head towards the 
 stream : this was in February. "When I left on the 
 top of a rolling flood in the beginning of May, I 
 was strong in body, bold in spirit, and bright in 
 colour. True, my shoulders were not so thick as 
 they might have been, and the dark colour of my 
 back bore something of a bluish tinge ; but I w^as 
 silvery white beneath, and my flesh, if not red, was no 
 longer white, but pink and wholesome.* I felt that 
 
 * I would not imply that all kelts are equally " weel mendit," 
 lout the description above is true of a very large number ; and 
 it is a pity that all should, without exception, be returned to 
 the water when caught. After a certain time, say the 1st of 
 April, a discretion as to killing, or returning to the water, a 
 kelt, might fairly be left to the fisherman. 
 
The late Salnio Salar^ Esq. 79 
 
 were a hook again within my jaws — which I took 
 good care it should not be — I could make a good 
 fight for my life ; and a good fight I surely would 
 have made. This, however, was not to be ; experience 
 had made me cautious, and a fortnight later found me 
 again a denizen of the mighty deep." 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 " THE SEA, THE SEA ! THE OPEN SEA ! 
 THE BLUE, THE EEESH, THE EYEE EEEE ! " 
 
 " The boundless, bounteous sea ! If as a grilse I 
 revelled in the prodigal supply of food she afforded, 
 how much more did I now ! Eude health and vigour 
 returned to my frame, the parasitic suckers fell from 
 my gills at the first taste of the wholesome salt water, 
 my colour darkened and brightened, my form developed, 
 my power of swimming increased, and I felt the con- 
 fidence of safety which arises from the consciousness 
 of strength, moral and physical. The number of my 
 enemies decreased as my relative powers and propor- 
 tions increased ; and from such as I was unable to 
 cope with I could now readily escape. In addition 
 
Autobiography of^ etc. 8i 
 
 to the food I bad formerly taken, I now swallowed 
 fish of a goodly size, full-grown herrings, sand eels, 
 young haddocks, and many others, that came in my 
 way. My second sojourn in the sea was, if possible, 
 a season of more unmixed happiness than my first, 
 just as a boy's latter school days are happier than his 
 earlier ones. Still, as of old, I never wandered far 
 from the shore ; food was more plentiful in its vicinity, 
 and when my long holiday had passed I again sought 
 the fresh water, I readily coasted back to the well- 
 remembered Tweed mouth. I linger not to describe 
 the various dangers again in succeeding years en- 
 countered, and again escaped. Instinct and such 
 reasoning as experience taught but partially protected 
 me. I was hooked once and again ; I tore tlie barbed 
 instrument of torture from my mouth, I broke the 
 strong line, I cut it against the sharp edge of the 
 rock, I straightened by main strength the curved 
 steel, I wore out the hold on my flesh by constant 
 dogged resistance, I shook the hook from its hold, in 
 short I escaped. — I was a salmon!!! 
 
 " Another, and yet another year, and heavier, 
 stronger, nobler than ever, I went down each recur- 
 ring spring to the sea, and each time tarrying longer 
 than before, I ascended at last a huge beast full 
 
 G 
 
82 Autobiography of 
 
 thirty pounds in weight, thick in the shoulder, firm 
 in the flesh, greyish in colour — for age will not be 
 denied — 
 
 ' Nee certus manet eolor,' 
 
 slower in my movements, but mighty in my strength. 
 I reached the great pool below Mertoun Bridge. I 
 never got further. I need not tell you why. You 
 know best by what vile arts " 
 
 Another change, a misty consciousness, the sound 
 of a bell. " Tring ! Tring ! Tring ! " sounded in my 
 ears. I awoke from my long dream to a conscious- 
 ness of my real position. I was still in the North- 
 Western train — tlie friendly guard had not played 
 me false — five pounds' worth of seats had been at my 
 disposal for half-a-crown — and my talkative intruder, 
 the elderly gentleman in the straw-coloured paletot, 
 resolved himself into the straw-enveloped salmon, the 
 victim of my prowess but yesterday afternoon. His 
 pipe had changed into the beak he had referred to. 
 I proceeded to London, if not a sadder, a wiser man ; 
 for though, doubtless, the history to which I had 
 listened was but the expressed result of my own 
 reflections and experience, I could not but feel, with 
 some gratification, that I had reduced them — ^vague, 
 
The late Salnio Salar^ Esq. 83 
 
 and possibly in some places erroneous, as tliey might 
 be — into form and shape ; and as such I offer them, 
 Avith much deference, to that kindest-hearted and 
 most liberal body of men, the followers of the " gentle 
 art." 
 
 The Narrator was killed by the Author the latter 
 end of October; he was a fine, firm, well-shaped, 
 wholesome fish, deep red in colour, and of excellent 
 flavour. I attribute his greyish complexion partly to 
 his prolonged residence in the sea, partly, as he him- 
 self did, to the efi'ects of age ; our own locks are not 
 so bright or so dark as in the days of our youth. I 
 consider him to have been six years old, reckoning 
 " ab ovo," thus : — 
 
 Egg deposited, December 1S65. 
 
 Hatched, February 1866. 
 
 Went to sea as a smolt, May 1867. 
 
 Eeturned a six-pound grilse, June 1868. 
 
 "Went to sea April 1869 ; returned a twelve-pound 
 salmon, September same year. 
 
 "Went to sea April 1870; returned a twenty-pound 
 salmon, September same year. 
 
 Went to sea April 1871 ; and was captured as a 
 thirty-pound salmon in October of the same vear. 
 
 G2 
 
PABT II. 
 
 A FOX'S TALE 
 
A FOX'S TALE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 YIXEN AND CTJB. 
 
 ^' Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Where did he 
 cross, Ben ? How long since ? " 
 
 "By the big hoak, my Lord, just as I 'ollered;" 
 and disappearing down a blind path, in a marvellously 
 short time, Ben's cheery rate was heard " putting the 
 hounds on " to the noble master, who, with more zeal 
 than effect, was making frantic efforts to produce 
 notes from his recently-acquired horn. Tweek! 
 tweek! tweek! Toot! toot! toot! 
 
88 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 " Confound the liorn ! Get for'ard ! Gret for'ard, 
 hounds. Loo over, loo over, good hounds ! " shouted 
 his Lordship, leaning well over his horse's neck, and 
 waving his cap on the line the Fox had taken. 
 
 " 'Old 'ard, my Lord ! 'old 'ard ! " roared Jem 
 Carter, the huntsman, as, galloping up at this moment, 
 he pulled up alongside of his Lordship, and right in 
 front of Jumper and Jester, who were feathering at 
 the spot indicated by Ben as that at which the fox 
 had crossed. 
 
 "It's a vixen, my Lord." 
 
 " How do you know, Jem ? " 
 
 " See'd her, my Lord ; she's got a cub in her mouth, 
 too." 
 
 •'A vixen — a cub. Oh, dear! oh, dear! will 
 nobody stop those hounds ? Why on earth was not 
 that yelping terrier left at home ? " 
 
 "Tally-ho! Tally-ho!" 
 
 " Pray, sir, stop that noise." 
 
 "Tally-ho!" 
 
 " Will you, sir, stop that noise ? " 
 
 "Tou are not scaring crows to-day," muttered his 
 Lordship more good-humouredly, for the clear, ringing 
 note of Carter's horn, aided by the well-directed 
 efforts of his active whips, had already recalled the 
 
Vixen a7id Cub. 89 
 
 body of the pack from tlie chase they were pursuing 
 with less than their accustomed dash and thirst for 
 blood. 
 
 There are times when Nature asserts her preroga- 
 tive, and sustains the Mosaic interdict against taking 
 the brooding mother with her young,* and the style 
 in which hounds, especially old hounds, hunt a vixen 
 about to lay up, or which has recently laid up her 
 cubs, is very different from that in which they run a 
 fox under ordinary circumstances. 
 
 In the meantime, I, who untold this tale, a three- 
 weeks'- old cub, round, brown, soft, and helpless, lay 
 careless of danger across my mother's ibrepaws. 
 Her warm fur enveloped me, her soft tongue caressed 
 me, while, panting and breathless, but wary and 
 alert, she crouched behind an old beech stool. Never 
 for one moment had she lost her coolness and self- 
 possession; never for a moment forgetful of the 
 helpless being she had snatched at random from her 
 litter of six, when first rudely awakened that spring 
 morning by the deep note of old Pilgrim and the 
 crack of Carter's heavy-thonged whip. 
 
 No, regardless of self-preservation, my devoted 
 
 * Pliny, with what truth I will not vouch, says — " Accipitre* 
 paciscuntur inducias cum avihus quamdiu cuculus cuculat." 
 
go A Fox^s Tale, 
 
 mother in her hurried flight had encumbered herself 
 with me, who hung from her mouth, like a hedgehog 
 roasting at a gipsy's fire, as she grasped me firmly, 
 but tenderly, by the nape of my neck. Now creep- 
 ing beneath the brambles, now crawling along the 
 bottom of a ditch, now crouching behind it's bank, 
 she contrived, though often in imminent peril, to 
 baffle her eager pursuers. So close were our 
 enemies, that more than once a puzzled hound 
 jumped over her back ; but she never quailed, never 
 by sign or movement betrayed herself or abandoned 
 her helpless charge, and when at last the opportunity 
 for doing so unobserved seemed to have arrived, she 
 bad crept stealthily, still carrying me in her mouth, 
 across the ride. Ben's quick eye had, however, 
 caught a glimpse of her, and, fortunately for us 
 both, the more practised one of Jem Carter at the 
 same moment. To this circumstance we owed our 
 lives, the hounds, as I have before described, being 
 stopped when further eftort to escape seemed hope- 
 less, unless I were abandoned — an alternative which 
 never so much as crossed the mind of my heroic 
 mother. 
 
 As we lay behind a stump, the welcome sounds of 
 departure were borne upon our ears. "Away! 
 
Vixe7i a7id Cub. 91 
 
 liounds, awa-ay ! " Crack! crack! crack! Twang! 
 twang! *'Away! away! away!" And in ten 
 minutes the wood w^as clear. 
 
 My mother having assured herself that such was 
 the case, took me up again, and returning to her 
 kennel, sought the rest of her cubs. Alas ! a sad 
 sight met her eyes. Well might the master ask, 
 " Why did they not leave that terrier at home ? " 
 The truculent little beast had discovered our lair and 
 had slain four out of the five left there. One only 
 was left, my little brother. Pug, — "Dear lost com- 
 panion of my youthful days." — But of him and of 
 his fortunes more hereafter. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 LIFE IN THE HAYSTACK. 
 
 Of my removal during the night I have no recol- 
 lection — indeed I had no consciousness of it — but 
 the following morning found brother Pug and myself 
 safely and comfortably lodged in a haystack, more 
 than three miles from the place of our birth. Our 
 faithful, untiring mother must, therefore, have 
 travelled at least twelve miles during the night, 
 carrying one or other of us in her mouth. A heavy 
 task ; but it had been accomplished, and now in the 
 grey light of the morning she was away, seeking the 
 food she so much needed. Our own sustenance was 
 at this time drawn exclusively from herself. 
 
 It was a charming retreat she had selected ; the 
 
Life in the Haystack. 93 
 
 haystack had been placed against, in fact touching, 
 the barn-end, and while the intervening space afforded 
 ready entrance and escape, we were well protected 
 from the cold, and, both by our position and the 
 narrowness of the approach, guarded from external 
 dangers. Besides the main entrance, if I may so 
 call it, my mother soon worked her way into the 
 barn itself, and an opening provided for the cat gave 
 iugress into a well-stocked farmyard. She excavated 
 another hole under the stack, and almost, but not 
 quite, through to the outside. This, however, she 
 never used ; it was reserved as a bolt-hole in case of 
 extreme need. 
 
 Here we remained three or four months ; and a 
 very happy time it was. Every night our mother 
 went forth on a foraging expedition, and never re- 
 turned empty-handed — empty-mouthed I should say. 
 Eabbits formed the staple of our diet ; but rats, 
 mice, and moles, nay, frogs and other reptiles, were 
 at times found in our larder. Occasionally, too, we 
 had game for dinner : partridges or pheasants, 
 always hen birds, but these were of comparatively 
 rare occurrence, and, truth to say, we cared little for 
 them ; they were dry, lean, and flavourless, as brood- 
 ing birds always are. Not unfrequently, a leveret or 
 
94 ^ Fox'^s Tale 
 
 a barn-door fowl formed portion of the feast ; wood- 
 pigeons and wild ducks were not unknown — the 
 former, wounded birds, which had been shot at and 
 escaped to fall dead, or flutter dying to the ground — 
 the latter my mother caught by watching, silent and 
 motionless, at the brink of a large pool frequented 
 by wild fowl. The birds feeding up or floating 
 downward, would approach her lair too closely, and 
 once within ten feet, whether in or out of the water, 
 became a certain prey to the wily old mother who 
 had watched for them so patiently. 
 
 Hares she would capture, even when feeding on 
 the open Down. I see her now, creeping, crawling, 
 crouching closely on the ground, moving silently and 
 surely, almost as slowly, as the hands on the face of 
 a clock. So patient was she, that the stupid old 
 hare as she fed grew accustomed to, and careless of, 
 the brown shapeless mass .which, by imperceptible 
 degrees, lessened the intervening distance, accommo- 
 dating its movements to hers, but making five feet in 
 advance for every three that her intended prey 
 moved away, until at last the spring was made, and 
 the poor squeaking victim found herself in the em- 
 brace of her deadly enemy. 
 
 In after days I became a great adept both in hare 
 
Life in the Haystack. 95 
 
 and in duck hunting; and many a good meal has 
 the lake or the common furnished me with. Eabbits^ 
 however, young or old, fresh or stale, formed, as I 
 have said, the staple of our food, and, excepting 
 perhaps rats, our favourite. Let no one who would 
 preserve our noble race create a diversity of interest 
 between those doubtful friends of ours, the keepers, 
 and ourselves, by giving the rabbits as their per- 
 quisite. In such case tlie loss they sustain from our 
 depredations is too serious for keeper-nature to put 
 up with. Still, if so disposed, they may always com- 
 promise the matter by rats ; for, much as I love 
 a rabbit, for true gmneij flavour commend me to 
 the rat ! 
 
 Well-fed, well-lodged, with nothing to do but to 
 enjoy ourselves, sleeping all day, eating and playing 
 all night, our life was a very happy one. A little 
 snarling and snapping, no doubt, when our mother 
 returned with the supper or breakfast; but she 
 always checked anything like quarrelling, and divided 
 the food she had brought equally between us. 
 
 When neither eating nor sleeping, our time was 
 spent in play. Rolling or jumping one over the 
 other, chasing one another round and round, under 
 the barn-floor over the barn-floor, or in the merrv 
 
96 A Fox'^s Tale, 
 
 moonliglit round and round the stacks, in and out the 
 streddles, catching one another by the tail, which by 
 this time had grown somewhat bushy, or engaging in 
 mimic fight, we were the merriest and most comical 
 little beasts alive. By degrees we extended our rambles 
 to the neighbouring copse, and took to hunting in a 
 small way on our own account. A fat field-mouse, 
 I remember, was the first victim of my prowess. Pug 
 had previously rather prided himself on the capture 
 of a great black-beetle, but we were still entirely 
 dependent on our mother's exertions for our suste- 
 nance. Kind, thoughtful, considerate mother! "Well 
 do I remember that, when she had dug out a nest of 
 young rabbits, she would bring them home, one by 
 one, alive, and sitting demurely on her haunches, 
 watch with delight* our puny efforts to tear them in 
 pieces. If very young they were handed over to us 
 absolutely ; but if half-grown and strong, she would 
 just cripple them by a sharp pinch across the loins. 
 It was pleasant to see the benevolent and gratified 
 expression with which she would regard us as the 
 taste of blood roused the fierce passion latent in our 
 nature, and with curling lip and bristling hackle, we 
 snarled and snapped, and worried and bit with our 
 * A fact. 
 
Life in the Haystack. 97 
 
 little sharp teeth until, more or less speedily, we had 
 put an end to our squealing victims. This was sport 
 indeed ; and no meals were ever partaken of by us 
 with half the zest and enjoyment these were. 
 
 The barn had, as I before mentioned, an opening 
 into the farmyard, the building itself forming one of 
 its sides. Opposite was the rear of the dwelling- 
 house, on one side the pigsties and cow-sheds, on the 
 other the farm-stables. Sheltered from all the winds 
 of heaven, but open to the sun, the cribs full of 
 fodder, and the yard itself littered with clean straw 
 up to the animals' hocks, it was a perfect paradise for 
 cattle of all kinds, pigs, and horses ; but the part 
 which most engaged our attention was the little hen- 
 house in the corner, out of which every morning, 
 just as we were retiring to sleep, some dozen or so of 
 hens and about a score of pullets and cockerels, led 
 by a magnificent old cock, used to issue. They 
 generally retired to roost before we had awakened 
 from our afternoon nap ; but in the morniug we 
 eitber saw or heard them, as, seeking the early worm, 
 they dispersed themselves about the yard ; and 
 feelings of a nature somewhat inimical to their 
 safety began to awaken within our breasts. 
 
 "Whether from a sense of gratitude for th.e protec- 
 
 n 
 
98 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 tion afforded, or of honour, or from fear, I cannot 
 say, but our mother had never molested these fowls, 
 ready as they seemed to her hand. She would travel 
 for miles, spend hours in digging out a rabbit's stop, 
 lie watching half the night at a meuse or field-gate, 
 until some tittupping leveret or lolloping old hare 
 would pass within reach of her spring ; she would lie 
 half immersed in a wet ditch watching for a wild 
 duck, and afterwards carry liome her prey, a mile or 
 more, in her mouth. To us this seemed a sad waste 
 of labour, when tlie means of obtaining a full meal 
 were at any moment open to us ; but, whatever the 
 cause, our mother not only scrupulously abstained 
 from appropriating the good farmer's poultry, but 
 laid her strong injunctions upon us to abstain like- 
 wise. It had been better for us had we obeyed 
 her. 
 
 One evening early in August our mother had gone 
 forth to forage. We had followed her, as for some 
 time past had been our custom, to some distance, 
 but had returned home, and, if I may use the ex- 
 pression, by unpremeditated concert had agreed to 
 attack the hen-roost. Slipping through the hole in 
 the barn-floor, stealthily crossing the yard among 
 dreamy cattle and snoring hogs, we speedily reached 
 
Life in the Haystack. 99 
 
 the hen-house door. The hole which gave ingress 
 and egress to the portly cock and motherly hens 
 gave ready entrance to our lithe, elastic bodies. In 
 a moment we found ourselves in a fox's paradise — 
 cocks, hens, and chickens in scores above and around 
 us. An old hen sitting on her nest was the earliest 
 victim of my attack ; seizing her by the throat, I 
 speedily stopped her screechmg, which had, how- 
 ever, awakened the old cock and all the inmates of 
 his harem. I will do him the justice to say, that his 
 first impulse was fight, and, dashing at me, he dealt 
 me a blow with his wing, the effects of which I felt 
 for a long time ; but observing Pug, who had just 
 slain a half- grown chicken, coming to the rescue, his 
 heart failed him, and, followed by several of the 
 hens and two or three young cocks, he retreated 
 precipitately through the hole in the door. After 
 all, a Dorking is but a dunghill enlarged; a game- 
 cock would have left a difi'erent story to be told. 
 
 And now began the carnage ! Had the stupid old 
 hens and foolish chickens remained on their perches, 
 they would have been safe ; but, maddened by terror, 
 they flew cackling and screaming to the ground, and 
 offered themselves ready victims to our attack. Many 
 escaped, but of those which huddled in the corner, 
 
 h2 
 
lOO A Fox^s Tale. 
 
 apparently courting their fate, we left scarce one 
 alive. In twenty minutes, nearly that number of 
 carcases strewed the floor. Each one of these we 
 conveyed through the hole by which we had entered 
 into the yard, and there, scratchiog up the loose litter, 
 we buried, or partially buried, the carcases of all, save 
 two cr three, which we dragged with us to our retreat 
 beneath the barn-floor. 
 
 Hardly had our feast begun when our mother 
 returned. She had been unsuccessful, and brought 
 with her a young rabbit only. On seeing our plenti- 
 ful repast she put on at first a grave and regretful 
 air, but muttering something to herself about, " what 
 is born in the bone," &c., she set to, and made a very 
 hearty meal. Tor ourselves, we were uproarious in 
 our delight ; we ate and ate to satiety, and then 
 curling ourselves up with our little bushy tails over 
 our little pointed noses, we slept the sleep of self- 
 content, if not of innocence. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIFE IN THE GORSE. 
 
 Eaelt in the morniDg after our sanguinary foray, 
 indeed, so early that we bad hardly begun to sleep off 
 the effects of the hearty meal we had indulged in, 
 Ben Brady, or, as he loved to be styled, Mr. Benjamin 
 Brady, first whip to the Deepdene Hounds, who was 
 hissing violently at the small curb-chain he was 
 rubbing between his palms, was accosted by Mr. 
 Stubbs, the sporting tenant of the " Grrange," a farm- 
 house some four miles distance from the Kennels. 
 Mr. Stubbs was a fine specimen of the class which iii 
 my young days was styled the " gentleman farmer." 
 He owned a small independence in addition to holding 
 liis extensive farm. He bred a good horse or two 
 
I02 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 every year, hunted twice or thrice a week, revered 
 the Squire, respected the parson, paid his rent and 
 tithes like a man, and tried hard to believe that he 
 voted according to his conscience. Nowadays^ 
 perhaps, we have too much of the gentleman and too 
 little of the farmer; but, be that as it may, Mr. 
 Stubbs was a good specimen of his class, a thorough 
 sportsman, a hard rider, and greatly respected by high 
 and low. 
 
 " Grood-morning, Ben," said Mr. Stubbs. 
 
 " Mornin', sir," said Ben, stopping the rubbing, but 
 only suspending the hissing. 
 
 " Is Mr. Carter about yet, Ben ? " 
 
 "Dan!" said Ben (who seldom did anything he 
 could get any one else to do for him) to the sharp,, 
 tight lad who acted as second whip, and who was 
 busily engaged strapping a horse much higher than 
 himself; "run in and see if the old 'un is off his 
 perch yet." 
 
 Dan disappeared, and speedily returned with the 
 information that Mr. Carter was up and shaving, or, 
 as he expressed himself, " getting himself from behind 
 his beard." Mr. Carterhimself followed the announce- 
 ment, the suds still clinging to his stubbly chin, his^ 
 coat, in his liaste, carried in his hand. 
 
Life in the Gorse. 103 
 
 A warm greeting was followed by a pressing in- 
 vitation to breakfast, which was as cordially accepted ; 
 but the farmer's face, as he seated himself at table, 
 wore so lugubrious an expression that it was impossible 
 it should escape notice. 
 
 " Nothin' the matter, I hope, sir ? " said Carter. 
 
 " Well, Jem, I've bad news for you." 
 
 " Not about the puppies, I hope, sir." 
 
 " No ; they're all right," said Mr. Stubbs. 
 
 " Nothing amiss with the colt, I do hope," said 
 Carter. 
 
 " No ; the colt's all right," said Mr. Stubbs. 
 
 *' Not the missus or the kids ? " asked Carter, 
 putting the objects of interest in order according to 
 their respective value in his eyes. 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Stubbs, " they're all right 
 enough; but the missus's white Dorkings — them 
 darned foxes have been and killed sixteen out of 
 thirty of tbem last night, and she swears that if I 
 don't get rid of them, she'll do them a mischief, she 
 will." 
 
 " Well, tbat's bad," said Carter; " we mustn't vex 
 the missus, nohow. But what foxes be they ? I 
 didn't know you had any at your place this season." 
 
 " No more we had," said Mr Stubbs ; "but an old 
 
I04 A Foxh Talc. 
 
 vixen — I expect it was tlie same that laid up there 
 last year — brought a couple of cubs the day after 
 that rattling run from Bryerly Wood, you remember, 
 at the end of the season, when we so near chopped 
 her, and they've been there ever since. They never 
 did any harm that I know of till last night, and then, 
 as I tell you, they made pretty near a clearance of 
 my wife's hen-house." 
 
 It was, I suppose, about midday, that we were 
 awakened by the impetuous attack of a little, wiry, 
 grey terrier who, squeezing himself under the barn- 
 floor, was upon us before we were aware of his 
 approach. Our mother's first impulse w^as to defend 
 herself and us, but the path was open behind her, and 
 the devoted love wdiich four months before would 
 have made her " give battle to the lioness," in defence 
 of her offspring,* had greatly cooled down of late. 
 "Waiting for but one snap at the wiry-haired terrier's 
 upturned nose, she dashed away through the opening 
 
 * I was assured by a gentleman that a vixen with cubs once 
 attacked his keeper and himself, and pursued them upwards of 
 a hundred yards, barking- and snapping. The keeper at Burton 
 Park also told me that he, last year, saw a vixen whose lair 
 had been inadvertently approached by a shepherd's dog, fly at 
 and seize him, and she was with difficulty driven away by the 
 use of the shepherd's crook. 
 
Life in the Gorse. 105 
 
 I have before mentioned, un^er the haystack, whilst 
 we, following tlie accustomed exit between it and tbe 
 barn, found ourselves in a moment entangled in tbe 
 meshes of a sheep-net, and, in another moment, trans- 
 ferred to a sack, in wbich, with its mouth securely 
 fastened, we were at fall liberty to tumble, or sulk, as 
 we pleased. 
 
 We were speedily hoisted on to a horse. Pug at one 
 end forming a counterpoise to myself at the other. 
 The sack was old, and I managed to get my nose 
 through a hole, and thereby obtain a plentiful suppl}^ 
 of fresh air, as well as hear what was going on. Ben 
 Brady sat before us, waiting for orders. 
 
 " Where shall I take 'em, sir ? " said Ben. 
 
 " To Brookside Gorse," replied Carter. 
 
 " Sure! " said Mr. Stubbs, " they don't want foxes 
 there." 
 
 " I don't know that," said Carter ; " there's a new 
 owner come there, a Cockney sort of chap, who don't 
 know much. His gardener's his keeper, and when he 
 asked what had become of the apricots, the gardener 
 told him the foxes had eaten them all.* That doesn't 
 
 * Foxes are very partial to grapes, and I do not think 
 it improbable that upon occasion they eat other fruit. Wild 
 berries undoubtedly form a portion of their food. 
 
io6 A Foxh Tale. 
 
 look well, does it ? Besides, they're sure to get 
 into the Bushes above ; cub-hunting is just begin- 
 ning, and they'll serve to blood the young hounds- 
 anyways." 
 
 " Ay," said the farmer, " but it's a bad hearing 
 that Brookside Grorse can't find cubs enough for- 
 blooding and hunting too. Lord ! what fools those 
 keepers do make of their masters, surely." 
 
 "I wish," said Carter, "I could think as they ivias 
 made fools of; they take to flapdoodle mighty easy,, 
 they do. ' John,' says master, ' I want a great head 
 of pheasants in my covert ; but mind, you're not to 
 kill thefoxes.^ ' Oh, no, sir, by no means, I wouldn't 
 kill a fox not on no account,'' says John; and though 
 a fox is never found where two brace or more 
 used to be, he asks no questions, but just goes on, 
 ' Mind, I ivont liave the foxes killed ; I wish to pre- 
 serve the foxes, / do.' " 
 
 "Ah," said Mr. Stubbs, "that's not the way my 
 Lord did it when he w^as there. ' Cox,' says he- 
 to his keeper, 'the hounds will draw my coverts 
 pretty often,' he says, ' and I expect they'll always 
 find a fox.' ' "Well, my Lord,' says Cox, ' I'll do my 
 best ; but the foxes, you sec, my Lord, kill a deal of 
 game.' ' But you are not to kill the foxes, neverthe- 
 
Life in the Gorse. 107 
 
 less/ says my Lord. ' By no manner of means, my 
 Lord, on'y yon see they ain't always at home ; foxe& 
 will travel, and — ' ' Cox,' said his Lordship, quite 
 solemn-like, ' listen to me : no Fox, no Cox ! Grood- 
 niffht, Cox ; ' and the Grorse was never without a fox 
 after that. Ha ! ha ! ah ! " roared Mr. Stubbs r 
 " that was something like, that was. I recollect — 
 afore that it was, and while Cox was a trying it on as 
 it were — his bringing a lot of legs and heads of 
 pheasants in, one night, after dinner. ' Look here, 
 my Lord,' says he, ' see ^ what these tarnation foxes 
 have been and done, killed all these pheasants in 
 one night.' ' What 1 all these in one night ? '" 
 ' Yes, my Lord.' ' By Jove,' said his Lordship, quite 
 chuckling with delight, ' n;liat a lot of foxes there 
 must he r "" 
 
 We were speedily transported to Brookside Gorse, 
 and there, in a retired corner, shaken out of our bag 
 by Ben Brady, who, as we scuttled away, treated us 
 to a " view-halloo " (a sound with which I became 
 afterwards more familiar) in his best style- 
 Surprised, captured, confined in a sack, and event- 
 ually shaken suddenly out of darkness into the 
 bright sunlight, no wonder if I felt somewhat con- 
 fused ; but I have always had my wits about me, and 
 
io8 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 -even in the greatest exigencies should as soon expect 
 my claws to drop off as my senses to forsake me. 
 In a moment I took stock of my position, and, 
 followed by Pug, scuttled away into the Grorse, as 
 thouo-li I had been born and bred there ; nor did we 
 stop until, a good way in, we found a thick, brier- 
 entangled grassy thicket, beneath which we crouched 
 in perfect security, and speedily fell asleep. 
 
 Here we lay until the shades of evening as well as 
 the dictates of appetite told us it was time to be up 
 and doing. A¥e had long ceased to be entirely 
 dependent on our mother's foraging, and the necessity 
 of providing for ourselves seemed to impart the power 
 of doing so. We hunted together, and besides that, 
 in a short time, we had killed and. eaten a young 
 rabbit, we discovered, by aid of our noses, more than 
 half of another lightly buried in the earth. This we 
 devoured, and, night being nearly spent, retired to 
 sleep at the spot we had originally selected for our 
 kennel. AVe slept soundly until the next after- 
 noon, and then creeping forth made, whilst seeking 
 our supper, a more complete survey of the localities. 
 
 The Grorse we found to be of considerable extent, 
 ^stretching from the brow of the hill nearly to the 
 brook which meandered through the meadow below. 
 
Life in the Gorse. 109 
 
 It lay sloping to the south, aud merged at the other, 
 the upper end, in an extensive wood, " the Bushes " 
 of which Carter had spoken. 
 
 Here, for nearly two montlis, we remained unmo- 
 lested and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. We 
 learned every path, and track, and meuse in the 
 Gorse, as well as in the wood ; we made, too, short 
 excursions in the neighbourhood, more from curiosity 
 and idleness than want of food, for there were plenty 
 of rabbits to be had for catching ; and I more than 
 once crossed the brook, and brought home, or buried 
 for future use, a duck or cliicken taken from the 
 farm-houses, of which two or three were within a 
 short distance. 
 
 I may say that Pug and I, though good friends, 
 
 and generally sleeping near each other, had become 
 
 thoroughly independent. Except on rare occasions 
 
 we hunted separately, and fed separately. We did 
 
 not now even care to play together.* Still, though 
 
 not a sociable, ours was a pleasant life ; and I think 
 
 that " life in the Grorse " wa?, on the whole, even 
 
 more enjoyable than " life in the haystack." 
 
 * Young foxes turn even their gamhols to account. So 
 engrossed are the rabbits in watching their eccentric move- 
 ments while at play by a wood or gorse side, that they allow 
 them gradually to approach quite closely, until, suddenly 
 separating, the one dashes at th-e rabbit, whilst the other 
 intercepts his retreat. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 CUB-HTJNTING. 
 
 The days passed away, and dwindled as tliey i3assed. 
 Summer melted into autumn ; tlie green berries be- 
 •eame black (we picked and ate tbem occasionally) ; 
 the green nuts became brown, and rattled in their 
 cups, or fell noisily to the ground ; the harvest was 
 gathered, and the ploughman was abroad in the 
 field. At no previous time had we fared so boun- 
 teously. Birds and beasts as young, but far more 
 guileless than ourselves, were met with at every 
 turn, and our larder was plenteously supplied. My 
 knowledge of the country, too, had greatly increased. 
 I made nightly excursions, to the distance of several 
 miles, not always returning home, but sometimes 
 
Cub-Huntinor. 1 1 1 
 
 ^t> 
 
 <jurling myself up and sleeping in the first con- 
 venient spot I came upon after a full meal. Pug 
 was of a more stay-at-home character, but he too 
 fared suuiptuously every night, and slept as soundly 
 at home as I did abroad. 
 
 Early one morning, about the middle of Septem- 
 ber, I was rudely awakened by noises of a most 
 frightful description, which, as they rung in my ears, 
 recalled with shuddering dread the fearful scene of 
 my early escape from danger and death. 
 
 " Yoick over ! Yoick over ! Eleu in there, good 
 hounds ! Yoicks, wind him ! Yoick, wind him 
 there ! Creep in, little bitch ! " And then the 
 boding cry of a hound fell on my ear. " Have at 
 him there. Monitor ! Have at him ! Hark to, Mo- 
 nitor, hark ! Get together, hounds ! " At once, 
 accompanied by the crack of whips and the long- 
 drawn blast of a horn, the cry of some three score 
 hounds burst upon my ear, as my poor, fat brother 
 Pug was unkennelled. 
 
 " A hundred hounds pursuing at once, 
 And a panting ' heart ' before." 
 
 I was but little better otf ; for as I rushed from 
 my lair my scent was at once taken up by about six 
 
112 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 couple of liounds, who daslied after me at a pace 
 whicli tried botli wind and muscle. 
 
 Instantly my mind was made up. I had confi- 
 dence in my own powers, and was resolved to pit 
 tliem against tliose of my enemies. In a moment I 
 was outside tlie Gorse, and clearing at a bound the 
 loose wall before me, jumped into the brook and 
 swam boldly across, in full yiew of some half-dozen 
 mounted horsemen stationed at the corner of the 
 Gorse. 
 
 " Tally-ho, away ! Tally-ho, away ! " greeted me 
 as I crept dripping up the opposite bank ; and shak- 
 ing the water from my fur, I headed boldly for 
 Thorny Wood, an extensive covert some four miles 
 off. 
 
 Whether my strength would have enabled me to 
 reach this refuge in face of my pursuers, I cannot 
 say ; but the hounds, as they showed themselves 
 outside the Gorse, were instantly stopped, and by 
 dint of voice and whip compelled to join the body of 
 the pack, who were closely hunting the unfortunate 
 Pug. 
 
 Poor Pug ! As I have said, he was of a domestic, 
 stay-at-home character, and scarcely knew copse or 
 spinney, or refuge of any kind, a mile from the 
 
Cub-Hunti7ig. 113 
 
 Oorse. His sole hope was, by a knowledge of the 
 localities, to elude his pursuers, and this for a long 
 time he did. Creeping here, crawling there, run- 
 ning when he had the opportunity, crouching low 
 when he feared to run, the eager hounds were a 
 hundred times behind him, and before him, and 
 around him, close upon him, over him, without see- 
 ing him, until in an unlucky moment he endeavoured 
 to cross a narrow ride cut for rabbit-shooting. 
 Ben's sharp eye, as on the former occasion, caught 
 sight of him, and a shrill yell brought up in a second 
 the body of the pack. With a crack and a yelp, and 
 a last suap at his foremost assailant, poor Pug 
 yielded up his breath. Oh, what a row there was ! 
 The young hounds had to be " blooded," to be roused 
 and excited not only to hunt a fox, which, as any 
 other strong-smelling animal, they would do by na- 
 ture, and to worry him, which their naturally de- 
 structive disposition would incline them to do, but to 
 eat him ; and eating a portion of fox for the first 
 time is about as agreeable to a young hound as 
 smoking a cheroot or chewing an olive is to a young 
 Cambridge or Oxford " man^ Indeed, nothing but 
 the excitement of the chase, the example of the old 
 hounds, and the belief that they are gettmg what 
 
 I 
 
114 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 some other hound wants, induces them to do it. 
 Afterwards, no doubt, it is different, and hounds 
 fight frantically for a portion of the dead beast. 
 Still, no hounds will devour a " chopped " fox ; it 
 requires the excitement of the run to render him 
 palatable. 
 
 " Who- whoop ! Who- whoop ! Who- whoop ! 
 Worry ! Worry I Worry ! Who-whoop ! " And 
 then, when the bristles of the old hounds were up 
 and the puppies had begun to snarl amongst tbem- 
 selves and to wonder what was coming next, the 
 lifeless body of poor Pug was held high aloft, and a 
 chorus of hunting sounds, accompanied by not unmu- 
 sical blasts of the horn, filled the air. His head, 
 brush, and pads, were cut off"; aud then the hounds 
 being got together with reiterated cries of " Who- 
 whoop ! Who-whoop ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " the 
 mutilated carcase was thrown amid the baying pack, 
 wbo speedily tore it in pieces and devoured it. 
 
 In the meantime, finding myself unpursued, I pro- 
 ceeded at an even, but still rapid pace towards 
 Thorney Wood. Once or twice I sat up upon my 
 haunches to listen ; but though assured that no one 
 pursued, I, like the guilty, fled on, and speedily 
 arrived at my destination. 
 
Cub- Hunting, 115 
 
 Thorney Wood is bounded on one side for a long 
 mile by the turnpike-road. Opposite the furthest 
 corner is a public-house, called 'The Fox's Hole/ 
 and at this point I lay boldly watching the 
 returning sportsmen. They were in high glee, 
 exulting over the death of poor Pug, and discuss- 
 ing the merits of the hounds and the incidents of 
 the chase. 
 
 " But, my Lord," said a youth mounted on a high 
 horse, " why did you not go after the fox which 
 crossed the brook ? He took a capital country, and 
 would have given us a run." 
 
 " But I did not go out for a run." 
 
 " For what then ? " 
 
 " A lesson." 
 
 " A lesson ! To whom ? " 
 
 " To young hounds, young foxes, and young 
 men." 
 
 " But a run might have imparted a better lesson to 
 all three." 
 
 " Quite the reverse; the moral would have been 
 lost to all." 
 
 "What is it, then, you would wish to teach to each 
 of us, be we cubs or puppies ? " 
 
 " The lesson I wish to teach the young foxes," 
 
 i2 
 
Ii6 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 said his Lordship, " is, that by boldly breaking and 
 taking a line across country, they may escape, but 
 that to hang in covert is death. The lesson to 
 young hounds is, that the fox is the sole object of 
 their pursuit." 
 
 " And to the young men, my Lord ? " 
 
 " "Well, it is difficult to say what earthly object a 
 young man proposes to himself in getting up at five 
 o'clock in the morning with no chance of what he 
 would consider sport, unless to get a lesson, so I may 
 as well give him one. He may learn first, if foxes 
 are tolerably numerous, to view one without yelling 
 at the top of his voice like a demented crow-keeper ; 
 secondly, that when hounds are at fault, as they 
 must constantly be in a confined space, they must not 
 be pressed ; thirdly, that hunting and hard riding are 
 neither synonymous nor necessarily connected with 
 each other." 
 
 " But if we had followed the first fox, the hounds 
 would have known what they were pursuing, the fox 
 would have run all the farther and faster for being 
 pursued, and your most instructive lesson would 
 have been as practically and equally well instilled 
 into our youthful minds.'' 
 
 " Pardon me," said his Lordship, " the fox, if he 
 
Cub-Hunting. 1 1 7 
 
 escaped, might fairly have supposed that the pursuit 
 was the consequence of his running away, and when 
 real hunting begins would have tried the plan of 
 stopping in covert ; the young hounds, though hunt- 
 ing a fox, would not have learnt that their powers 
 and instinct were to be directed exclusively towards 
 the destruction of that noble animal ; and the young 
 sportsman would have lost the opportunity of seeing, 
 perhaps for the only tiaie during the season, hounds 
 really hunting, and so learn when they are and when 
 not on a scent." 
 
 " But do not young hounds hunt the fox natu- 
 rally?" 
 
 " Of course they do, and they hunt cat, or a 
 rabbit, or a sheep equally naturally ; in fact, a puppy 
 worth his keep will chase anything that runs away 
 from him ; but the cat scratches his nose, the rabbit 
 disappears down a hole, and palpable arguments are 
 used, to prove the impropriety of hunting sheep. In 
 cub-hunting he meets with other animals to which 
 he is minded to give chase, and learns to abstain 
 from so doing. No doubt, his great innate propen- 
 sity is to hunt the fox, and partly by chiding, partly 
 by ignoring his attempts to hunt other animals, he is 
 taught to confine himself to the fox. There, I. think 
 
ii8 A Fox^s Tale, 
 
 I have told you all about it, and if you are looking 
 for a run, don't trouble yourself to come out cub- 
 hunting again. The smaller tbe number that come 
 out cub-bunting," added be, sotto voce, " tbe better I 
 am pleased." 
 
CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THE MEET. 
 
 Of all the months in the year, surely N'ovember has 
 the most reason to complain of the low estimate at 
 which it is held. It is stigmatised as a foggy, gloomy, 
 dreary, cheerless month, — a month in which, accord- 
 ing to our volatile neighbours the French, suicides 
 drop by scores over every bridge and hang by dozens 
 on every bough. " Grive a dog a bad name and hang 
 him." " November, dark and drear," has always had 
 a bad name. Yet November, I venture to think, is 
 the very best of all the good months in the year. 
 The air is keen and bracing, the days, though short, 
 are usually bright — I do not mean in London, where 
 frost brings fog — but in the country the tints on the 
 
I20 A Fox^s Tale. 
 
 woods are gorgeous, and the meadows are still 
 sufficiently green to afford a pleasant contrast to the 
 splendours of the woodland. It is the month of all 
 others for out-door sports. Partridge- shoo ting, if you 
 can only hit the birds, is better than ever ; pheasant- 
 shooting has really commenced ; pike-fishing is in 
 perfection ; and on some rivers, the Tweed, for 
 instance, huge salmon may be caught, affording in the 
 swollen waters the grandest of sport ; above all, it is 
 in November that regular Hunting commences. 
 
 The "Deepdene" hounds closed their Cub-hunting 
 season the last Friday in October, and began Fox- 
 hunting the first Monday in November. 
 
 In the year of grace 1871, the first of November 
 fell on a Monday, to the great delight of the eager 
 sportsmen who had long looked forward to it ; and by 
 ten of the clock on that auspicious morning, Mr. Carter 
 and his able assistants, Ben Brady and little Dan, 
 radiant with delight and gorgeous in their new 
 scarlet coats, started from the kennels in the direction 
 of "Deepdene G-range," the first fixture of the 
 season. 
 
 I must here introduce, somewhat more formally 
 than I have hitherto had the opportunity of doings 
 the Huntsman and "Whips of this celebrated pack. 
 
The Meet. I2f 
 
 Mr. Cartel-, or as he was commonly called, Jem 
 Carter, one of tlie oldest and best huntsmen in 
 England, was of middle stature, square-built, and 
 wirj. His face, though somewhat wrinkled, wore a 
 healthy, ruddy appearance, his hair was grey, his legs 
 a trifle bowed. Walking, Jem Carter was not much 
 to boast of, an ordinary, or less than ordinary mortal ; 
 but mounted, he was another creature altogether, 
 seeming to realise the old fable of the Centaur — a 
 part and parcel of the horse he bestrode ; it was only 
 when the animal fell that it appeared that they were 
 not inseparable, and albeit on such rare occasions the 
 horse was always allowed to come first to the ground 
 and sustain the shock — 
 
 " Like feather-'bed 'twixt castle wall 
 And heavy brunt of cannon ball," 
 
 it was marvellous what a space Carter, while still 
 holding his bridle, instantaneously placed betwixt 
 himself and the animal. 
 
 He had a keen eye, a musical voice, an instinctive 
 knowledge of the habits of the Fox, and an innate 
 love of horse and hound. Carter was a gentleman at 
 heart ; under no provocation did he ever use foul lan- 
 guage ; even his remonstrances rarely assumed an 
 
I 22 The Fox's Tale. 
 
 ;angry form. He never flogged a liound, always saying 
 that was the Whip's business, and, however erring, a 
 hound should feel himself safe when he sought the 
 Huntsman's protection. He was sixty years of age, 
 during thirty of which he had been Huntsman to 
 the " Deepdene" Hounds. 
 
 Ben Brady, the Pirst Whip, was by birth a 
 Cockney, with no great natural aptitude or inclination 
 for the sport he was engaged in ; but he had been 
 brought up in a good school, and Mr. Jorrocks' 
 lectures and James Pigg's double thong had worked 
 wonders with him. Though constitutioually a 
 coward, he had learnt to ride boldly and well, es- 
 pecially when there were lookers-on; he knew his 
 business, and generally did it : on the whole, Ben, in 
 the hands of Mr. Carter, was a not inefficient First 
 Whip. 
 
 Dan, or Danny O, as he was commonly called, was 
 of Milesian extraction ; his full name was Daniel 
 O'Shaughnessy, but his fellow-servants had never 
 been able to master it, and it had gradually dwindled 
 down to Danny, Danny O, or plain Dan. He was a 
 good-looking youth, a light weight, with a firm seat 
 and a bad hand, an intense love of the sport, and 
 ^n equally intense admiration for Mr. Carter. He 
 
The Meet, 123 
 
 liad plenty of pluck, and when not over-excited, 
 plenty of sense ; Dan had the makings of a good 
 sportsman as well as a good servant in him. 
 
 Such were the men who on that first of November 
 led forth the joyous pack over the paved court, 
 through the wide gateway, and across the breezy 
 common which separated the kennels from the wind- 
 ing, woody lane leading towards Deepdene Gi-range. 
 
 The sun shone brightly, the wind, though northerly, 
 was not over cold, but there was a frosty feel in the 
 air ; the horses set up their backs and kicked and 
 plunged as they felt the springy turf beneath their 
 hoofs. The hounds clustered round Jem Carter's 
 horse, and seemed to have no wdsh in the world un- 
 gratified, unless it were one for power to express 
 their happiness, which found vent occasionally in 
 a short bark or a long-drawn whine on the part of 
 some old favourite hound as, looking up to Jem 
 Carter's responsive face, he twisted his spotted 
 •carcase into the figure of an S. 
 
 Ben Brady led the way. Carter rode in the centre, 
 and Danny O brought up the rear. In this order, 
 joined by several farmers in black and brown coats, 
 a.nd two or three members of the Hunt in pink, they 
 trotted along the amply grassy verges of pleasant lanes 
 
124 The Fox's Tale. 
 
 and across fertile meadows leading by a line of hand- 
 gates to the Meet, which was reached a quarter of an 
 hour before the appointed time. 
 
 A large and well-mounted Field were in attend- 
 ance, and many were the greetings exchanged, not 
 unmingled with good-humoured '' chaif," as friends 
 and acquaintances recognised each other. " Good- 
 morning, Carter," said a dissipated-looking young 
 man riding a well-bred weedy nag ; " got a good entry, 
 eh ? " " Thankee, Mr. Buttercup ; pretty good — 
 a'most too good to ride over, sir." " Ah ! Jem, you'll 
 never forgive that ; but I'll behave better this year.'* 
 " Grood-morning, Mr. Johnson ! Grlad to see you out 
 again this year. The old horse all right, I hope, sir ? " 
 " Hullo, Blake ! " cried another voice; "why, your 
 reverence has got a new nag! " " True for you, my 
 boy ! but I forgot to send you word," was the 
 response of the Eeverend Mr. Blake, a hard-ridings 
 sporting parson from the Emerald Isle, commonly 
 known as "Paddy Blake." "Don't like the blaze 
 down his face." " Never mind, old fellow ; sure 
 you'll not see tliat after we get away ! " And so on j 
 kindly greetings, alternating with covert sarcasm and 
 open chaff, were bandied good-humouredly from 
 mouth to mouth. 
 
The Meet. 125 
 
 The probable line the fox would take was also 
 warmly discussed, and opinions, as usual, were con- 
 siderably influenced by tlie wishes of the speakers. 
 Mr. Bragg, 
 
 -A gent 
 
 Who rather liked rails, and thought he went," 
 
 was certain the fox would take across Sanderling 
 Oommon, which stretched away eastward towards the 
 low, newly-enclosed land, called Fenny Flat. Cap- 
 tain Pussyfat, mounted on a rat-tailed, speedy chest- 
 nut, with a long tail and weak hocks, opined that 
 Bolsover Common, which led to the endless, fenceless 
 Downs beyond, would be the line ; whilst Mr. Weller, 
 on Kingfisher, a noted water-jumper, was " certain 
 sure" he would cross the brook, and make for 
 Thorney Wood, and so by Owl's Coppice to the 
 Forest. 
 
 In the meantime the Master, accompanied by 
 half-a-dozen well-mounted men, rode up, and looking 
 at his watch, gave the signal to move od. " Punctu- 
 ality " (he was in the habit of quoting from his 
 favourite author, Mr. Jorrocks) was " the politeness 
 of Princes ; " and at the stroke of eleven, waiting for 
 no man, the hounds invariably moved away from the 
 Meet. 
 
126 The Fox's Tale, 
 
 On this occasion they had not far to go ; the- 
 " Bushes " bounded the farm on one side, and the 
 Grorse, where up to this moment I had lain watchful, 
 and motionless, was just below. 
 
 A wave of Jem Carter's hand, a half-suppressed 
 cheer, for in truth the eager hounds needed none, 
 and every one was at work in it. 
 
 " Hark in ! Hark in ! " '' Drag up to him, Chanti- 
 cleer ! Toi over, Merriman ! Try for him, old 
 hound ! " with other sounds of deadly import, greeted 
 my ear, and well knowing their meaning, I at once 
 made up my mind not to wait until my enemies were 
 upon me, but to seek the safety I had found on 
 a former occasion in immediate and rapid flight. 
 
 With this view, before even the tender nose of old 
 Pilgrim had detected the stain on the ground, or 
 Purity had suiff'ed the taint in the air, I made the 
 best of my way to the bottom of the Gorse, fully 
 intending to cross the brook at the same place as 
 before. As I ventured forth, however, I saw, be- 
 tween me and the brook, two figures — a lady and 
 a boy — and at that moment a long-drawn how^l, suc- 
 ceeded by a crash of fiendish yells, apprised me that 
 my kennel had been found, and that the fierce hounds 
 were on my track. 
 
The Meet. 127 
 
 A feeling of terror almost overcame me, rendering 
 me incapable of estimating at its true value the 
 assumed danger before me. Turning back I skirted 
 tbe Grorse, and, keeping still within it, passed into 
 the wood, at the top of which the main body of the 
 Field, with the Master, were assembled. To break 
 here was impossible, and the cry of the hounds, who 
 had dashed over the scent into the open meadow 
 at the spot where I was headed, having for the 
 moment ceased, I lay perfectly still, and endeavoured 
 to regain my wonted courage and coolness with my 
 breath. 
 
 ""What's up, Dan?" inquired the Master of the 
 young "Whip, who, with loose rein, at this moment 
 galloped round the corner. 
 
 " Fox has been headed, my Lord, at the bottom of 
 the Grorse, and Mr. Carter sent me up to stop him 
 from breaking at yonder corner; he's afraid he 
 should make for Sandy Spinneys, where the traps 
 are down." 
 
 "I wish," muttered his Lordship, "the traps 
 were on their owner's legs. But who the deuce 
 headed him ? " 
 
 " The lady, my Lord, as belongs to the young gent 
 as kicked Harmony last week." And Danny^ 
 cracking his whip, disappeared. 
 
128 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 " That's Mrs. Dimity and her precious cub," said 
 ray Lord. " The fox will make his point yet, thougli, 
 if he has the chance. Pussy fat, ride down and tell 
 her if she stops there she'll spoil the sport, as she has 
 done before, confound her ! " 
 
 Captain Pussyfat was a lady's man, and translating 
 his Lordship's language into phrase more meet for 
 lady's ear, be rode up, and taking off his hat, " with 
 his Lordship's compliments," expressed his great 
 anxiety that she " should not miss the run by getting 
 a bad start, and hoped that she would join him on 
 the hill." 
 
 The lady, delighted with the flattering attention, 
 at once rode away with the urbane messenger. "Oh, 
 Captain, Pussyfat," said she, "do you know we have 
 seen the fox already ; didn't we, Johnny ? He came 
 just now, and looked at us from underneath the 
 brambles ; didrCt he, Johnny ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, mamma ; and I cracked my w^hip at him, 
 or else he'd have run away, /know." 
 
 By this time I had run the complete round of the 
 covert, and returned to the place at which I had 
 been terrified by the appearance of Mrs. Dimity and 
 -her hopeful son. 
 
 Finding the coast clear, and the cry of the liounds 
 
The Meet, 129 
 
 coming nearer every moment, I boldly left tlie covert, 
 
 and now, stronger and more active than on a former 
 
 occasion, cleared the brook at a bound. The lower 
 
 portion of the Gorse and the meadow were not in 
 
 sight from the upper part, where the Master and the 
 
 Pield were stationed, but as I crossed the meadow 
 
 which lay below, Ben Brady's cap was held high 
 
 above the furze, and wdien, after clearing the brook, 
 
 I breasted the opposite hill, a repetition of the 
 
 "view-halloo" which had greeted my entrance into 
 
 life and exit from the sack was borne shrill and clear 
 
 upon my ears. It was a sound not to be forgotten 
 
 and I quickened my pace, so as to place the brow of 
 
 the hill as speedily as possible betwixt my pursuers 
 
 and myself. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE EUJf. 
 
 On ! what a commotion there was on tlie hill beliind 
 me. 
 
 " Tally-ho, away ! Tally-ho, a-w-a-y ! " shouted 
 his Lordship, touching his horse with the spur, and 
 bounding over the gorse in a succession of leaps, like 
 a kangaroo through a pine-swamp. 
 
 "'Ark 'oiler! 'ark 'oiler!" cried Jem Carter, 
 cracking his whip, as turning to the left, he crashed 
 through the rotten fence, and landed from a heavy 
 drop on the soft ploughed field below. He was 
 followed, as he galloped down the hill, by some score 
 or more of horsemen, who had been waiting on that 
 side. 
 
The Run, 
 
 31 
 
 " Grone away ! Gone away ! " 
 
 Crack ! crack ! crack ! 
 
 "Forrard, forrard! Get together, hounds! Get 
 together ! " yelled Ben Brady, cantering quietly down 
 the opposite side, and setting in motion a still larger 
 part of the field, who, joined by Captain Pussyfat 
 and Mrs. Dimity, had stationed themselves there. 
 Down they all went, some because their horses would 
 go, some because others went, some because they saw 
 the beautiful pack straining up the rising ground 
 before them, carrying a head it was rapture to 
 behold. "You might have covered them with a 
 sheet," as Carter exultingly exclaimed. A big fence 
 intervened between the top of the covert and the 
 brook — there was a gap in it — and towards this there 
 was much struggling and pushing (some strong 
 language was used). Captain Pussyfat and Mrs. 
 Dimity, having been the last to come up, were the 
 first to arrive at it, and passed easily through, but 
 Master Dimity's pony was a methodical animal and 
 timid withal, one that liked to look before he leaped, 
 and planting his fore legs firmly in the ditch, he 
 commenced a deliberate survey of the bottom, before 
 he essayed to climb the opposite bank. This 
 occasioned a stoppage. Mr. Stubbs, who always 
 
 k3 
 
132 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 declared that all the falls were got at gaps, put his 
 young horse at the fence bj the side, and cleared it 
 well. Ben Brady, young Buttercup, and the Doctor 
 followed him ; while three or four less ambitious 
 horsemen crowded the outlet, which was only wide 
 enough for one at the same time. 
 
 " Where are you coming, sir ? " 
 
 " "Why didn't you pull up, then ? " 
 
 " Now, sir, if you're not going, let me come." 
 
 " You're always in such a hurry, you are ! " 
 
 " And you ain't ; that's just it ! " 
 
 " Forrard ! forrard ! forrard ! " 
 
 In the meantime his Lordship, Jem Carter, 
 Paddy Blake, Squire Haycock, Weller, and some 
 half-dozen more, had approached the brook, aud a 
 pretty sight it was to see how gallantly they rode at 
 it. The Master led the way, steadying his horse, 
 while he urged him with the spur — he rode at well- 
 nigh full speed. The good horse scarcely deigned to 
 rise, but covered the fifteen feet of water almost in 
 his stride. Carter's horse, though great at timber, 
 was not a water-jumper; in almost aoy other hands 
 he would have refused, but with such a rider that 
 was out of the question. Galloping straight at it, 
 " He spurred the old horse, and he held him tight." 
 
The Run, 133 
 
 Though, jumping high, he dropped his hind legs, he 
 gained the opposite bank, aud rejoined his Lordship, 
 who was by this time galloping some fifty paces 
 behind, and a little to the left of the bounds. The 
 others got over or in, according to chance, or skill, or 
 luck. Some jumped over, and some jumped in ; some 
 tried to walk through, and stuck in the muddy 
 bottom, to be recovered at leisure; some horses 
 refused, anc' some, taking the bit in their mouths, 
 carried their riders over against their wills, who thus 
 found "honour thrust upon them." Mr, Stubbs, 
 who, though a hard rider, was rather nervous about 
 water, followed by some two score horsemen, rode 
 away towards Ivy Bridge, a short half-mile to the 
 right ; whilst Captain Pussyfat, who thought it his 
 duty to look after Mrs. Dimity, followed by that lady 
 and her boy, rode for the Bullocks' Ford, the same 
 distance down stream to the left. Gringer, the 
 horse-dealer, who had no notion of a broken back in a 
 fox-hunt, whatever he might risk in a steeple-chase, 
 followed him, with a score or so more; and thus, 
 while the hounds in hot pursuit of luckless me were 
 running due south, three-fourths of my enemies were 
 riding due east or due west. 
 
 Leaving Dan to see that no straggling puppy hung 
 
134 ^ Fox's Tale. 
 
 in the gorse, Ben, closely followed by Mr. MufF, put 
 the rat-tailed mare boldly at the brook, and cleared 
 it cleverly. Mr. Muff followed on his line so closely, 
 that one moment's pause, and a bad accident would 
 have been the result. Ben, half-inclined to be 
 saucy, only remarked, "Lucky, sir, you didn't jump 
 atop of me — you might have hurt yourself,'' and, 
 bending towards the left, he galloped on ; while 
 Muff, exulting, rode the exact line of the hounds, and 
 catching them as they threw up on the other side of 
 the brow, found himself the object of strong remon- 
 strance on the part of Carter, and animadversion on 
 that of his Lordship. 
 
 "Pr««/, sir," said the former, "peay don't press 
 the hounds ; you've driven them over the scent ; 
 you're spoiling your own sport, and ours too." 
 
 "Where the are you coming to, sir?" 
 
 shouted his Lordship ; " riding over the hounds and 
 making a fool of yourself. I wish to heaven you'd 
 stop at " 
 
 " Yeo doit ! yeo doit ! Caroline ! Teo doit ! 
 Merriman ! " cheered Carter, whose eye at this 
 moment caught the sudden pause of the favourite old 
 hounds, as, feathering, for a moment, they recovered 
 the scent, and, followed by the rest of the pack. 
 
The Ru7i. 135 
 
 dashed away on the track I had taken, whilst his 
 Lordship, leaving Mr. MulF to swallow the few hints 
 he had given him as best he might, with a subdued 
 cheer foUow^ed his huntsman. 
 
 JSTo sooner had I placed the brow of the hill 
 between myself and my pursuers, than, turoing to 
 the left, I skirted the well-known orchard and farm- 
 yard, and passing into the liome-close, found myself 
 in the midst of a flock of sheep. The great, woolly, 
 baa-ing idiots all rushed together, as though I were 
 going to eat them, and, galloping with all their might, 
 carried me with them through the open gate-way, and 
 almost to the hedge at the further end of the next 
 field. Here, disengaging myself from my friends, for 
 friends they were (though at the moment I hardly 
 knew their value), I slipped through a meuse, and 
 found myself on the turn-pike road. Following this 
 to where a low stile showed the diverging footpath, I 
 passed through, and leaving Thorney Wood to my 
 right, I set my face straight for Bolsover Forest, 
 where the main earths, if I could but reach them, 
 promised me a safe and welcome refuge. 
 
 On then, on ! by the narrow footpath, down the 
 sloppy furrow of the rough fallow. On ! across the 
 rich pastures, where lazy, white-faced oxen grazed, 
 
136 A Fox^s Tale. 
 
 who twisted tlieir tails, executed a clumsy caper, aud 
 running together, bellowed as I passed them. On ! 
 through the closely-cut meadows, where the huddling 
 sheep ran half a circle, and stopping to gaze at me, 
 finished it in the face of the hounds, to their great 
 discomfiture; where the brood mare, looking forth 
 from her comfortable shed in the corner, laid back 
 her ears, and snorted as I passed. On ! by the long, 
 high whitetliorn hedge, pursued by the chattering 
 magpie. On ! across windy commons and rush-grown 
 swamps, where the pewits flapped their wiugs in my 
 face, and the rooks soaring over my head made ever 
 nnd anon swoops at me ; and so, still on and on, weary 
 and footsore, until the tall pines which towered above 
 the broad beeches and still leafy oaks of Bolsover 
 Forest were at last in sight. 
 
 In the meantime the Master, the huntsmen, and 
 their companions, riding somewhat wide of the 
 hounds, but each with a practised eye directed to 
 their movements, followed on. They were in the 
 highest spirits, for there was a burning scent — a good 
 fox before them ; they had left the body of the 
 Eield behind, and the young hounds were doing 
 wonders. 
 
 "Hold hard, my Lord!" said Carter, as crossing 
 
The Rim, 137 
 
 the brow of the hill, the pace suddenly slackened, 
 and the hounds for a few seconds were at fault. 
 Almost instantly, however, Caroline and Merriman 
 hit off the scent to the left, and Carter cheering 
 them to the echo, capped the body of the pack on to 
 the welcome challenge. Crossing the orchard, an 
 awkward fence barred the way ; it was a rough, close, 
 oaken paling, with a locked gate, some four feet high, 
 in the middle. 
 
 " Take time, my Lord !" said Carter, as the Master 
 rode somewhat hastily at it. " Grive him time ! " and 
 just in time Jem Carter spoke, for almost in his last 
 stride his Lordship, getting hold of his horse, slack- 
 ened the dangerous pace, and enabled him to rise, 
 and though he rapped the top bar hard, got safely to 
 the other side. Jem Carter trotted up, pulling the 
 old horse almost on his haunches, he rose steadily, 
 and landed on the other side almost without an effort. 
 Blake and Johnson followed ; and it was not till 
 young Buttercup, whose courage was rapidly oozing 
 away with the fumes of the brandy he had primed 
 himself with, rode at it forty miles an hour, and 
 crashing through, fell, horse and man, heavily on the 
 other side, that any accident happened. The rest 
 followed through the hole he had made, and leaving 
 
138 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 him with a " hope you're not hurt," to pick himself 
 up, galloped after their leaders. 
 
 "I thought that would shake 'em together," said 
 old Carter, looking over his shoulder ; " push him 
 hard at it, my Lord, there'll be an awful big ditch 
 the other side of this." And so there was ; but the 
 good steeds, well handled, carried their bold riders 
 safely over, and again the musical, but to me ominous 
 cheer, was heard, urging the striving pack still 
 "for'ard! for'ard!" 
 
 Had it not been for the check occasioned by the 
 stain of the sheep, which gave me two or three 
 minutes' breathing space, I think I could never have 
 stood before them. I heard Carter cry when they 
 came to the road — " Hold hard, gentlemen ! pray give 
 them time over the road; hold hard!" but the scent 
 was fearfully good ; they ran down the hard road 
 nearly at the pace they did across the grass, and 
 pressed me till at times I almost despaired, and was 
 more tJian once on the point of lying down to wait 
 for death ; but I did not — innate pluck sustained me, 
 and, drooping and exhausted as I was, I still stag- 
 gered forvvara. 
 
 By this time my appearance was sadly changed for 
 the worse ; mj? fur, so rich and glossy in the morning 
 
The Run. 139 
 
 now wet and soiled, clung closely to my body ; my 
 brush, draggled and foul with mud, swept the ground^ 
 and my tongue lolled from my half-open mouth. 
 
 Of my pursuers, every man had now settled into 
 his own place ; there was no more struggling or 
 striving for precedence, none but the " flyers of the 
 hunt " were there, and each one, however jealously 
 inclined, knew his neighbour's powers, and felt how 
 hopeless, indeed suicidal, would be any attempt to 
 " cut him down." There was little choice of wind,, 
 for I had since I turned been running straight down 
 it, and the leading men were about equally divided 
 on either side of the line, each keeping an eager eye 
 on the foremost hounds. Paddy Blake, closely 
 followed by Haycock and the Doctor, took the lead 
 on the left, whilst the Master and Carter, with 
 Johnson and some others, rode on the right; Ben 
 followed, but Dan had not come up. Each man held 
 his horse tight in hand, and, easing him where he 
 could, rode at a swinging, even gallop, taking the 
 fences as they came, but never jumping, if without 
 losing their place it could be avoided ; they knew, one 
 and all, how much each leap takes out of a horse, and 
 felt that, hardly yet in condition, theirs would want 
 all that was in them before the day was past. There 
 
I40 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 were some few casualties, but good horsemen rarely 
 fall, and though they do not perpetually fly over 
 gates, rivers, and fences, as on the receptacles for 
 tally-ho sauce, or in the hunting advertisements, still 
 less frequently do they perform acrobatic somersaults 
 over hog-backed stiles and other impracticable 
 fences, as shown in the ordinary run of sporting 
 pictures. 
 
 Despite my efforts, the distance between my foes 
 and myself gradually diminished, and at last True- 
 love, topping a stile, caught a glimpse of me, scarcely 
 a field ahead. Only two enclosures, however, now 
 intervened between me and the Eorest fence, and I 
 felt I had still strength to reach it, when suddenly 
 the Captain and Mrs. Dimity, who, having crossed 
 the ford, had ridden best pace along a bridle road 
 leading to the Eorest, which the Captain rightly 
 •concluded was my point, aj)peared right in front of 
 me. Fearing to face them, I turned short to the 
 right, and hiding myself under a thick bush in the 
 hedge, exhausted and breathless, gave myself up for 
 lost. Like the sheep, however, my enemies proved 
 my best friends. Maddened with the view, their 
 heads up, and careless for the moment of the scent, 
 the hounds rushed on, and running almost over me, 
 
The Run. 141 
 
 only stopped wlien they reached the group of horse- 
 men. 
 
 At this moment, his Lordship, closely followed by 
 Jem Carter and Ben Brady, appeared on the scene, 
 and was apparently again about to address some 
 remarks the reverse of complimentary to the Captain 
 and the lady, when he was interrupted by the shrill 
 cry which greeted my futile attempt to steal away 
 unobserved. I had, however, managed to place the 
 length of the field between mine enemies and myself, 
 and gaining strength from the confidence inspired by 
 the knowledge that my refuge was at hand, I crept 
 into the covert, and crossing the well-known ride, 
 made for the dell in which the main earths were. 
 
 My heart bounded as I reached them, for I was 
 half dead, and felt that my life had been saved more 
 through fortunate accidents than the strength and 
 endurance on which I had prided myself. What was 
 my horror and my dismay at finding the entrance to 
 the hole stopped in such a way that my entrance was 
 impossible ! A small faggot, with the points of the 
 sticks towards me, had been firmly fixed in and 
 securely fastened by a stake driven through it. Por 
 a moment, more in despair than hope, I seized the 
 sticks with my teeth, and, finding them immovable, 
 
142 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 wildly endeavoured to tear up the ground around 
 them with my claws. In vain : I felt that my doom 
 w'as sealed, and, casting a look behind me in the 
 momentary expectation of the arrival of my foes, I 
 determined to sell my life as dearly as I might. 
 
 At this moment my eye rested on an old ivy- 
 covered tree, which, having been blown out of the 
 perpendicular long years since, now projected across 
 the entrance to the dell. I had passed it a minute 
 before unnoticed, but the sudden thought now flashed 
 into my mind, that it might afford the means of 
 safety. 
 
 Eetracing my steps in less time than it takes to 
 tell, I scrambled up the sloping trunk, and lay 
 panting and exhausted, completely hidden amid the 
 green foliage of the friendly ivy. Scarcely had I 
 attained the welcome refuge when, bristling vrith 
 rage and thirsting for my blood, the hounds rushed 
 up, yelling like demons.* 
 
 On they went along the track I had twice followed, 
 and though Bondsman and Blucher, and some of the 
 old hounds who would never go a yard without the 
 ii^cent, threw up their heads at the place where I had 
 
 * Gentle reader, I am speaking from the Fox's point of view; 
 to my ear, as to yours, hounds "discourse most excellent music." 
 
The Run. 143 
 
 turned, the young ones ruslied on yards beyond it. 
 At that moment a bouncing old hare, which had been 
 disturbed in the fallow, and after running the gaunt- 
 let of a dozen horsemen, had almost gone into the 
 mouths of the hounds, was caught sight of by 
 Frantic and Jealousy, who, throwing their tongues, 
 and followed by the whole pack, started in mad 
 pursuit. 
 
 " There's the fox," said Master Dimity to his 
 mamma, as the hare popped her stupid old head out 
 of the mouse, and as suddenly retired. "I saw the 
 fox again." 
 
 "Oh! Johnny saw the fox," exclaimed the de- 
 lighted Mrs. Dimity. 
 
 "Did you see the fox, ma'am?" said the Captain. 
 "Tou saw the fox, sir?" said the next man to him. 
 "Tally-ho! Tally-ho!" shouted the third, and up 
 rushed my Lord, horn in hand, in a state of frantic 
 excitement, and up came a lot of hounds wildly 
 streaming across the ride. Twang, twang, twaug, 
 went tbe horn. 
 
 " No, no, NO, my Lord," roared Jem Carter, blun- 
 dering through the underwood and the wattle fence 
 which bounded it. " No, no, no, my Lord ; don't 
 you see them's only puppies ? That's a liare they're 
 
A Fox's Tale. 
 
 running. 'Ware hare, puppies ! 'Ware liare! Toi-o-i 
 back! Yoi-o-i back!" and, followed by the young 
 hounds, who seemed heartily ashamed of themselves, 
 Jem Carter vanished amid the thick underwood, 
 blowing his horn, and vainly endeavouring to recover 
 his lost fox. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FROST. 
 
 LoTJD and bitter were the lamentations over the loss 
 of the fox, and various were the opinions and com- 
 ments hazarded; of course, as in all misfortunes, 
 some one must be blamed. 
 
 " Ladies have no business out hunting ! " said 
 Stubbs. 
 
 " Nor boys neither," said Peter Buttercup, who had 
 left Cambridge about six months. 
 
 "Nor old women like Pussy yonder," added Paddy 
 Blake : " it was all his holloaing that lost the fox." 
 
 "Pussy didn't holloa," remarked Johnson; "it 
 was Smith here." 
 
 " Well, Eobinson holloa'd first." 
 
 L 
 
146 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 " Not I ; but Brown said he saw the fox." 
 
 " I didn't ! I only said that Mrs. Dimity said that 
 somebody said he had seen him." 
 
 " I wish to heaven ! " said the Master, riding up, 
 "that you wouldn't take the trouble to holloa at all. 
 There are plenty of servants paid for holloaing, and 
 who do it much better." And turning away, he rode 
 off, discussing with Carter the mysterious loss of the 
 fox, and lamenting that the hounds had missed blood 
 on their first day. 
 
 " Well, my Lord," said Stubbs, who with his com- 
 panions had just ridden up, " I ain't sorry for it a 
 bit. He's a good fox, and will live to run another 
 day ; and as for blood, I don't believe it matters 
 whether hounds have blood or not." . 
 
 " Nor I neither," said Blake. " There are packs 
 that never, so to say, kill a fox, and show good sport 
 too. Hounds will run a bagman just as keenly as a 
 wild fox. In India they run a jackal well, though 
 they never eat Idm. Indeed, I have seen the Phoenix 
 Hounds run a red herring, or an aniseed drag, as 
 keenly as they, or any others, ever hunted a fox." 
 
 " And so have I," said Stubbs, " when I was a boy 
 I hunted a pack of beagles, and to my notion they 
 ran a drag more keenly than ever they did a hare ; in 
 
The Frost, 147 
 
 fact, there was not a hound in the pack would kill a 
 hare ; the first one they ever hunted was tame, brought 
 up as a leveret in their company, and they would 
 have as soon thought of worrying their master as 
 their little companion, or any of its kindred." 
 
 " I incline to your opinion," said his Lordship, 
 " when the great race between hounds and horses 
 came off, the hounds of necessity ran a drag — and 
 they beat the horses." 
 
 " I wish," said Mr. Stubbs, " that masters in 
 general held the same view ; the namby-pamby cry 
 about the cruelty of hunting has literally no founda- 
 tion whatever, if you do away with the practice of 
 * digging out ' and murdering — there is no other 
 word for it — a fox that has fairly gained a place of 
 refuge, on the plea that the hounds must have blood. 
 By all means kill your fox say I, if you can kill 'him 
 fairly ; if not, let him escape, and live to run another 
 day." 
 
 '• But," said young Buttercup, " you would not save 
 a ringing beggar that has kept you all day in a wood, 
 because he creeps, like a cur, into a rabbit-hole." 
 
 " I would ;" said Mr. Stubbs, " that ' ringing 
 beggar ' would next time you found him, probably go 
 straight away ; a fox is not the crafty, cunning 
 
148 A Fox's Tale. 
 
 animal he is generally supposed to be ; he is a bold, 
 high-spirited, and sagacious one; he refuses to quit 
 the covert because from excess of self-confidence he 
 underrates the danger; having once realised it he 
 will, on the next occasion, go straight away and 
 trust to speed and endurance for safety. Besides, 
 though I love sport, I hate cruelty, and, disguise 
 it as you will, there is cruelty in digging out and 
 throwing a fox to the hounds. I heard, last 
 season, of a huntsman whose claim to the cele- 
 brity he has acquired rests, not so much on the 
 runs he shows, as upon the number of foxes killed, 
 causing a bold fox that had taken refuge on the 
 ridge of an outhouse, after a good run, to be shoved 
 down into the mouths of the baying hounds below ; 
 the same man caused another fox that could not be 
 dislodged by fair means from a drain, and put the 
 terrier sent to dislodge him to ignominious flight, to 
 be smoked out ; there is an admirable illustration of 
 the foul proceeding in one of Mrs. Edwards' (G. 
 Bowers, of ]?uncli) life-like sketches, the poor beast 
 is admirably depicted, with terrified aspect, blinded 
 eyes and singed fur, as he crawls fortli to meet his 
 doom : — 
 
 ' Wild and wonder-stricken, even as one 
 That staggers forth into the air and sun, 
 
The Frost, 
 
 From the dark chamber of a mortal fever, 
 Bewildered and incapable ' 
 
 149 
 
 Such acts are, to my miud, wickedly cruel, and reflect 
 infinite disgrace on all who practice or permit them. 
 I heard, however, that the liveliest dissatisfaction 
 was expressed at either act of barbarity, and it was 
 only want of moral courage prevented active inter- 
 ference on the part of more than one member of the 
 hunt." 
 
 This point, however, like that of the propriety of 
 ladies hunting, did not appear very likely to be 
 settled ; but all agreed that the run had been first- 
 rate, and that the puppies were the finest entry ever 
 known. 
 
 For my part, I lay at first stretched at full length, 
 but afterwards coiled up amid the sheltering ivy, and 
 it was not until the evening that, faint, stiff, and 
 wearied, I descended and sought the food I so much 
 required. The half of a dead hare, which had been 
 killed by the hounds, but dropped, under dread of the 
 lash, before they had time to devour it, afforded me 
 an ample meal, which I did not enjoy the less because 
 my deadly enemies had provided it. Returning to 
 the earths, I found the obstacles removed, and that 
 they were now open. At once entering, I coiled 
 
150 A Foxh Tale, 
 
 myself up, and slept soundly through the whole of 
 the next day.* 
 
 It was some days before I recovered from the 
 effects of the run, but I was happily unmolested 
 during the remainder of the month, and towards 
 December a sharp frost set in. Bitter cold it was, 
 and I found some difficulty in providing myself with 
 sufficient food. To dig out rabbits was impossible ; 
 the rats had retired to the corn- stacks ; the wild 
 ducks had sought the sea-shore ; even the moles had 
 followed the blind worms deep down in the earth, 
 beyond the influence of the frost. Had it not been 
 for the shooters I know not how I should have got 
 on, but many a lost or crippled pheasant, or broken- 
 legged hare, fell to my lot as I roamed the coverts 
 ere the keeper liad gone round wuth his retriever the 
 morning after a battue. Many small birds, too, died 
 of hunger and cold, and were picked up on the banks 
 or in the ditches. The hen-roosts were laid under 
 contribution, nor did I hesitate in my extremity to 
 revisit the scene of my earhest marauding exploit, 
 and again obtain a taste of Mrs. Stubbs's white 
 Dorkings. Once, too, I came upon a crew of hard- 
 
 * It is the opinion of many good sportsmen that a hunted 
 fox always returns to his kennel the same night. 
 
The F7^ost. 151 
 
 drinking ducks, who had gabbled over their liquor 
 until the pool froze and hampered their wings with 
 icicles ; I killed them all. 
 
 At last the frost broke ; the snow, losing its crisp 
 purity, melted into slush ; the ice cracked, its surface 
 growing first slimy, then moist, and finally melting 
 into blue scum-covered water. The spirits of hunting 
 men revived, guns were laid aside, boots polished up, 
 and, " weather permitting," the Meet was again 
 advertised for ' Deepdene Grange.' 
 
 " I wonder," said Jem Carter, as with a light hand 
 he lathered away at his somewhat obstinate beard, 
 speaking half to himself and half to Danny 0, who 
 was in attendance ; " I wonder will we find our old 
 customer again that gave us the slip so cleverly the 
 first day of the season ; I'll dust his jacket for him if 
 we do, or my name's not Carter." 
 
 '' I hope I shan't get such a precious ducking as I 
 did in the brook that day, if we should find him," 
 remarked his companion. 
 
 " Your own fault, Danny," said Carter ; " all your 
 own fault ! Hiding at water as you did with a loose 
 rein, you're bound to come to grief; the horse 
 swerved in course, the bank broke, and you got under 
 him. From all I hear it's a wonder you warn't 
 drowned." 
 
152, A Fox's Tale. 
 
 " Well," said the lad, " I know I drove him hard 
 at it, as you told me." 
 
 "That's not enough," said his senior; "there are 
 fences you must ride at pretty fast, if you mean to 
 get t'other side of them ; and there are fences you 
 must ride at very slow, if you don't mean to break 
 your neck ; but there's no fence as you should ride at 
 with a loose rein, and it's just the same with water. 
 It's my belief that the horse thinks when you've got 
 a good hold on his head, that it's you that carries 
 Mm over ; if you let him go, he's ' all abroad ! ' Now, 
 missus, I'm ready for my breakfast." 
 
CHAPTER yill. 
 
 THE FINISH. 
 
 In the same order, by the same route, and almost 
 with the same company as on the previous occasion, 
 the hounds proceeded towards the Meet ; but, though 
 still the same, a marked change had taken place in 
 the appearance of all — men, dogs, and horses. The 
 last were lighter in carcase, and though displaying in 
 their condition the efiects of high feeding, careful 
 tending, and thorough grooming, had lost the hloom 
 which shone on their coats at the commencement of 
 the season. Some showed scars or swellings, the 
 result of accident or hard work ; and a shorter step 
 would here and there indicate the consciousness of a 
 "favourite" leg. Hounds, too, might be observed 
 
154 ^ Foxh Tale. 
 
 moving somewhat stiffly — if I may be allowed the 
 expressioD, " stiltily ;" some few were in hospital ; 
 Mystery had been ridden over, Harmony kicked, 
 Pilgrim and Tragedy (the wise old bitch that never 
 left Carter's side until a hound challenged, and who 
 always endorsed the challenge if true) had succumbed 
 to age, after vainly striving to hold their own; 
 Frantic and Jealousy, Vanity and Volatile, had been 
 condemned for inveterate riot, and some two or three 
 couple had been drafted at either end on the score of 
 pace. Still, the body of the pack was there, and a 
 likely, lashing lot they were as a fox might wish, or 
 fear, to have on his drag. 
 
 In the men w^as little of change to remark ; Carter's 
 honest, close- shaven face wore its .usual pleasant, 
 somewhat serious expression. His coat and cap, no 
 longer bright and glossy, showed the stains of many 
 a splash from miry lane or black bog, but his cords 
 were spotless, and his white neckerchief neat as ever. 
 Ben was, as usual, smirky and self-satisfied. Danny, 
 his coat somewhat shrunk and his frame somewhat 
 enlarged, looked like Leech's cab-horse—" his heart 
 too big for his body." 
 
 The G-range was soon reached, and every one's 
 wants, real or supposed, hospitably ministered to by 
 
The Finish. 155 
 
 Stubbs and his stalwart sons, who brought out crusts 
 and cheese, ale and cherry-brandy, biscuits and wine 
 to such as could not be tempted to dismount and 
 taste the ample cheer provided within. 
 
 "Thank ye, Mr. Stubbs!" said Johnson, "but I 
 came here to Inmt, and not to eat. No offence, I 
 hope ? " 
 
 "None in the least — Liberty Hall this! — eleven 
 o'clock too, — come, let's be moving." 
 
 The field was large, and all our old acquaintances 
 were there — Smith, Brown, and Eobinson, Gringer 
 the horse-dealer. Squills the doctor, Johnson, Paddy 
 Blake, Mr. Muff, Captain Pussyfat, and some six 
 score more. 
 
 The wind was southerly, and Carter decided for 
 reasons of his own to draw down it, that is, in the 
 same direction as that pursued on the former day. 
 
 "Tou see, my Lord," he said to the Master, " if we 
 can make him break at the upper side, there's nothing 
 to speak of betwixt us and the Crags ten miles off, 
 and fit as the hounds now are, it's «^?zpossible a fox 
 can live before them that distance, and as to finding 
 him in his kennel, he'll break as soon as the hounds 
 are in covert, whichever way we draw." 
 
 I was in consequence at once aware of the approach 
 
136 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 of my enemies ; indeed, I had returned home some- 
 what late that morning, and the old hounds owned 
 the drag the instant they entered the covert. 
 
 Dashing eagerly forward, leaping over the bushes 
 and over one another's backs, they hurried on to the 
 spot at which they had previously unkennelled me ; 
 indeed, hounds always bear in mind the precise spot 
 at which they have once found a fox. I did not tarry 
 to receive them, but creeping rapidly and stealthily 
 along, I passed through the wood, and broke at once 
 on the north side, settiDg my head straight for Mussel 
 Crag, which, as Carter truly said, was a good ten 
 miles off, though I hoped to find a nearer refuge. If 
 1 did, I was disappointed. 
 
 "Danny!" said Carter in a low voice, as, after 
 beckoning him to his side, they galloped together 
 round the outer edge of the covert, the hounds in full 
 cry to the right hand — " Danny, you remember the 
 drain on Mr. Tyler's farm where we lost our fox last 
 season ? " 
 "I do, sir!" 
 
 " He promised to put a grating at the mouth, but I 
 doubt he ain't done it. Clap on, Danny, and wait 
 there till you see if our fox makes for it." 
 
 "With a quick gesture of intelligence and obedience 
 
The Finish. 157 
 
 Danny set spurs to Ms horse, and, dashing through 
 the rough bushes that bounded that side of the covert 
 and over the light fence, rode straight as a crow 
 might fly to the point indicated ; and there, when 
 some five minutes later I arrived, I found the lad, 
 grinning and out of breath, holding his horse by the 
 bridle, his cap in his hand, blocking up, by sitting 
 over its entrance, the long drain which, as I knew, 
 led directly into Mr. Tyler's homestead, carrying off 
 the water from his well-roofed farmyard. Danny 
 waved his cap triumphantly at me as I turned away 
 disappointed, but, to my surprise, no "Holloa" 
 greeted my departure. 
 
 Meantime the hounds were hot upon my track. 
 The scent was good, and, save for a second when they 
 dashed out of covert on to ground which the horse- 
 men had traversed, there was neither pause nor check. 
 Chanticleer and Affable cleared the fence together, 
 and as they feathered on the headland, Madcap and 
 Modesty, Trinket and Truelove, with Purity, 
 Dexterous, and Columbine making a cast forward, 
 hit the scent off down the furrow, and scorins: to 
 cry, every hound in the pack owned the scent and 
 struggled for precedence. 
 
 '■^ Fray, gentlemen!" shouted Carter; ^^ prai/, 
 
158 A Foxh Tale. 
 
 gentlemen, give tliem room ; 'pray, don't press 
 them." 
 
 " Tally-ho away ! Taily-ho away ! Tally-ho ! 
 Tally-ho ! " screamed a dozen voices, and, in a few 
 seconds, every hound was streaming across the green 
 pasture which lay between the covert and the rich 
 arable wheat and bean land beyond. 
 
 A single, stiffish rail at the upper end protected the 
 young quickset hedge; and at this, Ginger, who 
 regardless of Carter's warnings and entreaties, had 
 gone away with the lead, rode at best pace. 
 
 The good horse cleared the rail, but lighting in the 
 narrow ditch beyond, made a complete somersault, 
 throwing its rider, whose seat was fortunately none of 
 the closest, fully five yards in advance of him. As, 
 partially stunned, he lay, with strange lights flashing 
 through his eyes, and strange noises swimming in his 
 ears, he had an indistinct vision of his horse, the 
 bridle loose and broken, his head down, vainly striving 
 to catch the hounds, which were disappearing in the 
 distance. No gap, however, had been made, no 
 opening for those who followed, and as no one selected 
 the same spot, he sat and looked about him in com- 
 parative safety. 
 
 The Master and Carter took the fence quietly and 
 
The Finish. 159 
 
 cleverly ; Paddy Blake hit, but did not break the bar ; 
 Mr. Stubbs and the Doctor took rail, and fence, and 
 ditch at a mouthful ; a few more followed them, and 
 many, despairing of the obstacles being cleared for 
 them, rode away to the right or to the left, seeking 
 for a gap or a gate. 
 
 However, no single rail, or double either, can stand 
 a field of horsemen. Harry Eobinson, who prided 
 himself on being a " good, quiet rider," and who, in 
 fact, funked awfully, walked his horse up, and with 
 some difficulty got the animal's fore legs over, and, 
 in attempting to bring the hind ones after them, 
 broke down a rod of the fence. The baffled field 
 poured through the opening like water through a 
 mill-dam. 
 
 The ground was heavy, and catching hounds with 
 such a scent no easy matter ; however, every one did 
 his best, and it is astonishing, if you only keep 
 hammering along the line, how, from some cause or 
 another, in ordinary runs, hounds " come back " to 
 you. 
 
 " He'll get into that confounded drain ! " said his 
 Lordship ; " the hounds are heading straight for it." 
 
 " Not he, my Lord ; I sent Danny for'ard, and see, 
 there's his cap in the air." 
 
i6o A Fox's Tale. 
 
 " Teo doit ! yeo doit, Jester ! Teo doit, Playful ! 
 Down the hedgerow it is ! Teo doit, Chanticleer, 
 good hound ! There he turned ! Hoick ! Hoick ! 
 Chanticleer ! Toicks ! Por'ard ! Tor'ard ! " 
 
 In a moment my untiring enemies had recovered 
 the scent, and were straining with murderous eager- 
 ness on my track. 
 
 " This way, this way, my Lord ! " shouted Carter ; 
 " Vare bog, 'ware bog." The warning came too late; 
 as he spoke, his Lordship's horse floundered for a 
 moment, then, stumbling onwards and driving before 
 him a stream of inky water, came suddenly to a stop^ 
 and lay with outstretched neck and distended nostril, 
 helpless, immersed up to the saddle-flaps in the black 
 tenacious bog-hole. No whit daunted, the rider 
 threw himself well back on his saddle, and touching 
 the curb-rein smartly while he spurred the horse, 
 encouraged him to a mighty and successful eff*ort, 
 which landed him safely on the other side. Little 
 heeding Paddy Blake and two or three other less 
 fortunate followers, who were left floundering hope- 
 lessly in the same " Slough of Despond," he joined 
 his huntsman, and with, if possible, greater ardour 
 the chase sw^ept on. 
 
 The country now opened ; the enclosures were 
 
The Finis Ji. i6i 
 
 larsfer, the fences fewer aud weaker. I bad readied 
 the foot of that great hill which for a hundred miles 
 marks the boundary of the Down country, and up it 
 I began to climb, slowly and painfully, for, in excellent 
 condition as I was, the pace had told upon me, aud 
 I confess that my heart had sunk within me when 
 I sought the refuge of the drain and found it closed. 
 As I climbed the hill at an easy angle, stopping 
 once and again to consider my position and decide 
 upon my course, I commanded a full view, as well of 
 my pursuers as of the country behind and beyond 
 them. To one less vitally interested in the issue of 
 the chase was presented a beautiful as well as an 
 exciting scene. In the distance I could plainly dis- 
 tinguish the brown oaks and broad beeches that 
 crowned the Deepdene Grorse. Par beyond again, 
 and only distinguishable hy a jagged line on the 
 horizon, appeared the tall pines and dark line of 
 Bolsover Forest, between which and the boggy land 
 skirting the heavy clays directly below me were well- 
 known farms aud homesteads, holts and spinneys, 
 woods, dells, and brakes, every one of which was 
 familiar to me, and all, or nearly all, connected in my 
 mind with some successful hunting or marauding ex- 
 pedition. 
 
1 62 A Fox\ Tale, 
 
 This, however, was no time for retrospection ; the 
 cry of the hounds, redoubled by the echoes of the 
 hill, was borne full upon my ear, nearer and nearer 
 still, and though a few couple, beaten by the pace, 
 still straggled within my view, the body of the pack 
 was hidden from my siglit directly beneath me, and 
 climbing upwards at a speed equal to, if not greater 
 than, any I was capable of. 
 
 At a short distance bebind came the Eield, the 
 bright scarlet coats showing on the yellow soil like 
 poppies in a corn-field, and approaching with a swing- 
 ing movement like that of the pendulum of a clock 
 — I mean the body of the horsemen presented this 
 appearance, for some dozen or more were w^ell ahead 
 of the rest, and many far behind, and some were 
 riding the road which ran below and parallel with the 
 hill, east or west, as they thought best, to seek some 
 easier point of ascent than that I bad chosen. 
 
 Short space of time did I occupy with the obser- 
 vations above recorded, long as it takes to describe 
 them ; but, gaining the brow of the hill, I set my 
 head straight for Mussel Crag, where, as I well knew, 
 were cliffs and fissures for the refuge of a dozen 
 foxes, which no stopping could affect, and no whip 
 drive me from. Again I was disappointed ; a few 
 
The Finish, 163 
 
 horsemen, rightly guessing my point, had left the 
 hounds some time before, and there I found them 
 directly in my intended course. Turning to the right, 
 I ran perforce the edge of the hill, its smooth, green, 
 springy turf affording a welcome relief to my hot, 
 tired feet, after the wet, rough soil I had traversed 
 below. But if the change were in one respect good 
 for me, it was bad in another and a more vital one. 
 The scent, before good, seemed doubly so on the 
 green turf. Scarcely pausing to work out the few 
 yards I had run in the direction of the cliffs, the 
 pack swung round, and as the leading horseman ap- 
 peared, with a whimper and a scarce repeated chal- 
 lenge, absolutely raced after me. 
 
 "Yoick for'ard!" screeched the Master. Twang, 
 twang, twang, went Carter's horn. " Good hit, little 
 hound ! Yeo-o-ick ! Madcap and Modesty. Teo-o-ick ! 
 Let's see who'll ride over them now ! " chuckled the 
 old man as, taking his horse by the head, he settled 
 down into the best pace the somewhat jaded animal 
 could muster. " Let's see who'll ride over them 
 7WW ! " And little fear was there of undue pressing. 
 The young hounds took the lead — Madcap and Merri- 
 man. Playful and Purity, Bondsman and Butterfly. 
 Age will not be denied j and where there was no 
 
 M 2 
 
164 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 stooping for scent, no picking it up by patient effort, 
 the young ones had it all their own way. Not a note 
 was heard; the pace was too good to waste breath, 
 and save where an old hound would give vent occa- 
 sionally to a short, disappointed whimper, they ran 
 mute. 
 
 "Beautiful! Beautiful !" exclaimed his Lordship, 
 as after nearly two miles at best pace, the leading 
 hounds threw their heads up, and circling round, like 
 swallows on the wing,joined their accustomed leaders, 
 who, though overmatched in speed, had carried the 
 scent every yard they ran, and now followed my sudden 
 enforced turn downwards, as though they had been 
 tied to my brush. 
 
 It was not on me alone that the pace had told. 
 The two miles passed over showed a tail extended 
 over at least one. In truth, it had been a sort of 
 flat-race, each man going the best pace his horse was 
 capable of, or the best he knew how to get out of 
 him. Had I not turned suddenly as I did, I should 
 have been run into in view ; and as it was, I felt that 
 my doom was but delayed a few minutes, and my 
 chances of escape absolutely none. Where could I 
 seek for a refuge ? How could 1 hope, on this bare 
 hill-side, to baffle my pursuers ? Still, " Never de- 
 
The Finish. 165 
 
 spair " was, and always bas beeu my motto, and I 
 trundled down tbe liill in full view of the Field as 
 boldly as though I had been that moment unken- 
 nelled, and the boundless forest before me. 
 
 "Tally-ho! Tally-ho! Tally-ho!" again burst 
 from a hundred voices. " Tally-ho ! " shouted Carter, 
 as, cap in hand, he skimmed along the steep side of 
 the hill carelessly, as though he were riding on the 
 level ground above. Crack, crack, went Ben's whip, 
 as he cantered round and behind the hounds with the 
 same total disregard of the precipitous nature of the 
 ground ; while Danny turned his horse's head down 
 the side of a cliff that no one unaccustomed to such 
 a country would have credited aught save a goat or 
 a cat with descending ; his object being clearly to 
 head me " ly accident," and so prevent the possibility 
 of escape. 
 
 What shall I do? Where shall I go? Where 
 shall I hide ?— I have it. The cottage by the road- 
 side, — the door is open. Griles Jolter, the occupier, 
 is washing potatoes at the entrance. I dash by him, 
 and touching lightly the baby's cradle as I leap over 
 it, dash at once into the family chest in the corner, 
 the lid of which, fortunately for me, stands open. 
 Mrs. Jolter with a scream rushes to take up baby ; 
 
1 66 A Fox's Tale, 
 
 tbe girl who was rocking the cradle recoils in mortal 
 fright ; but Giles, whose nerves are not easily shaken, 
 passes in, and shutting down the lid, turns the key in 
 the clumsy lock, and. deposits it in his breeches-pocket 
 just in time to meet two or three frantic horsemen, 
 who, haying in vain cast round the house without 
 hitting off the scent, had in consequence concluded 
 that I must be within. 
 
 " Come, old fellow ! where's our fox ? We saw 
 him come in.'* 
 
 Tour fox ! " responded Giles. " What makes him 
 your fox, I wonder ? He's my fox, and I have locked 
 him into yon kish, along with my Sunday clothes." 
 
 True enough ; I was sitting on them, and beside 
 me lay the worthy fellow's Bible, his wife's best 
 bonnet, the " marriage lines," and a bunch of blue 
 ribbon w^hich he had received by way of prize, " for 
 bringing up twelve children (on wages averaging 
 eleven shillings a week) without parish relief" 
 " ToTJE fox ! " repeated Giles. 
 
 '* Why, we've been running him this hour or more." 
 "Pity you could'nt cotch him, then,' said Giles, 
 who was somewhat of a wag in his way. " He might 
 have been your'n then ; now he's mine." 
 
 " You mean, you won't give him up, then ? " 
 
The Finish. 
 
 167 
 
 " No, I wonnot! " — fine, honest, independent fellow^ 
 thought I — " leastways not unless you give me half- 
 a-crown ; " — venal, clodhopping brute, was my second 
 reflection. 
 
 At this juncture Mr. Stubbs entered. " Servant ! 
 Mr. Stubbs, be that thou ? I'll give up t'ould fox to 
 iliee^ sir. You be a good measter and a koind friend 
 to the poor." 
 
 " Thank ye, Giles ; and there's half-a-crown for 
 you. — But, my Lord, we musn't kill him ; he's too 
 good to be killed! I'll take him home, and chain 
 him up to the old barrel under the lime-tree at my 
 place, and loose him when the season comes round 
 again ; he'll show us another good run yet." 
 
PART III. 
 
 BOLSOVER FOREST. 
 
BOLSOVER FOREST. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 MASTER B.'S YOUTHFUL EEMINISCENCES. 
 
 " Master B. ! Master B. I where can Master B. 
 be?" "Where indeed? Chin-deep in the hogs- 
 wash, standing tip-toe on the inverted bucket which 
 had happily been left floating in the greasy liquid, 
 my dirty, chubby, tear-furrowed cheeks and stream- 
 ing eyes just visible above the rim of the tub, into 
 the depths of which my innate love of natural his- 
 tory had plunged me. To watch the movements of 
 the rats in the pigsty, I had crept along the rotten, 
 treacherous boards forming the cover, which breaking 
 had well-nigh committed me to a direr fate than that 
 of " maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey butt ! " Out 
 of this delicious bath I was rescued, sobbing and 
 
172 Bohover Forest. 
 
 ha If- clicked, by my mucli-endaring nurse, Mrs. Bed- 
 wyn, scolded, shaken, soothed, kissed, and put to bed, 
 from which I rose the next morning neither a sadder 
 nor a wiser child. 
 
 I think that during my infancy and boyhood I went 
 through every species of danger and met with every 
 mishap that' child or boy could be exposed to. I 
 was tossed by the cow, kicked by the donkey, 
 scratched by the cat, and bitten by the dog (strangers 
 iill, for the home creatures knew and loved me) ; I 
 tumbled off the haystack, and into the pond, and 
 down the well, and out of the cart, and ofE the apple- 
 tree, and into the bee-hive. I was run away with 
 by the pony, and blew my eyebrows oif with gun- 
 powder. I was lost, and found and strayed away, 
 and sent home again, and went through as many 
 adventures before I was twelve years old as many a 
 quiet individual might experience through a long 
 lifetime. All and each however had some reference 
 to my favourite pursuit of natural history, and 
 though, as in the case of the rats in the pigsty, my 
 attempts to watch wild animals and learn their works 
 and ways occasionally ended in discomfiture, I was 
 ever ready to renew the essay, and neither time nor 
 trouble, labour nor pain, was taken into account if 
 
Master Bh Youthful Reminiscences. 173 
 
 in my own mind I could add but one page to the 
 science of which as yet I knew not even the name, 
 jS^atural History — 
 
 " I could watch from morn till gloom 
 The lake-reflected siin illume 
 The yellow bee ia the ivy bloom." 
 
 Yes ! and the rats, though not so poetical and 
 not so proverbially industrious or ostensibly useful, 
 were worth watching in their way. When the rot- 
 ten old boards which had played me such a scurvy 
 trick had been removed and the strong new lid fixed 
 in their place, I would lie at full length upon it, and 
 peeping stealthily over the mud coping of the wall, 
 observe how warily, when the gluttonous hogs had 
 finished their repast and could stuff no longer, the 
 old rats would send the young ones forward like 
 doves from their ark of refuge, and watching them 
 as they stuffed their little skins out, assure them- 
 selves of their own safety by the immunity of the 
 baby marauders. Then the half-grown rats, wiser 
 in their generation than the infant brood, would 
 issue forth, rush to the trough, snatch a mouthful, 
 and — find themselves robbed of it by their despotic 
 seniors as they sought to regain their homes. Finally, 
 when assured that there was no immediate danger,. 
 
174 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 tlie grey-wliiskered, yellow-toothed, bright-eyed pa- 
 triarchs of the horde would run silently and swiftly 
 forth, and having snatched a hasty meal, perform their 
 careful after-dinner toilette before my delighted eyes. 
 In truth there is no animal so cleanly as the de- 
 spised rat. Whether he live in pigsty, farmyard, 
 drain, or sewer, his face and his whiskers and his 
 pretty paws will be kept clean and white and pure 
 as, nay more so than, any lady's pet, be it of what 
 race it may. 
 
 Master B. ! — but I have not given the reader the 
 etymology of my curt name. B. is short for Ben- 
 jamin. My mother's younger brother, who rejoiced 
 in that name, a wild and wayward youth, had gone 
 off some years since to what my nurse called gene- 
 rally "the Injies." He had left the country under 
 a slight cloud and at variance with both my father 
 and mother, but the later cherishing a secret hope 
 that " Uncle Benjamin " would one day return laden 
 with gold and make his namesake, if he found one, 
 his heir, or possibly go through the latter part of the 
 programme without troublmg himself about the 
 former, had insisted on christening one of her sons 
 Benjamin. My father, who hated the name, gene- 
 rally abbreviated it by the use of the initial, and 
 
Master Bh Youthful Reminiscences, 175 
 
 commonly referred to me as " little B." The servants 
 and the villagers took it up, and I was universally 
 called Master B. 
 
 Master B.'s chosen playmate was little Bill Belt, 
 the cowboy ; and deep was the grief that swelled 
 the gentle bosom of his somewhat exclusive nurse 
 at witnessing this, as she considered, degrading 
 intimacy. What would she have said had she been 
 aware that at the moment she was anxiously seeking 
 Master B., that young gentleman was engaged behind 
 the barn in a pugilistic encounter with Bill in defence 
 of the two surviving children of tortoiseshell Tip ? 
 
 " The cat's kittened in Charlie's wig, 
 There's twa of them living, there's four of them dead ; 
 
 T'ane's a son, t'ither's a darter. 
 The four dreed their weird in a bucket of water." 
 
 Bill, to whose tender mercies Tib's progeny had 
 been confided, was minded to drown the " whole 
 biling," as he called it. I resisted successfully, and 
 at the expense of a black eye rescued the uncon- 
 scious innocents and restored them to the embraces 
 of their fond mother. 
 
 Perhaps in these early days my notions of morality 
 and the strict obligations of truth were undeveloped ; 
 at any rate the account I rendered to Nurse Bed- 
 
176 Bo/sover Forest. 
 
 wyn of the cause of tlie disfiguration of my ruddy 
 countenance bore no relation whatever to the real facts 
 of the case. However, the story, whatever it was, was 
 taken as fact ; and Old Natiianiel, or Nat Belt, the 
 game-keeper, Bill's father, a man of strict probity 
 and strong religious feelings, was so pleased with 
 my pluck in not splitting on Bill, that he became 
 thenceforth my fast friend: and many a pleasant 
 hour I spent in his cottage, and many a wrinkle on 
 the subject of dogs, game, and wild animals in general, 
 I got from the good, observant old man, and treasured 
 in my memory. 
 
 The kittens, I may here state, throve and grew 
 into cathood ; and though Sandy, the son, went the 
 Avay of all cats in early life, and contributed his 
 mite of utility to the scale of creation in the shape 
 of a keeper's cap, young Tibbie, the daughter, lived 
 to a good old age, and was famous among cats for 
 many good and for some bad qualities. She was a 
 splendid mouser and extraordinary bird-catcher, 
 but I am bound to own, a terrible thief and poacher. 
 Nat Belt, out of gratitude, however, condoned her 
 offences in that line ; and though she was more than 
 once caught in his traps, he always, after some 
 practical admonitions, set her free. Eventually 
 
Master B.h Youthful Reminiscences, 177 
 
 Tibbie became thoroughly up to trap, and gins and 
 snares were in vain set for her in the neighbouring 
 woods and coverts, to which, for a great distance 
 round, she paid frequent visits. Indeed, Tib's 
 powers of locomotion were wonderful. She loved 
 me with an intense and enduring love, such as I 
 have never seen exhibited by any other cat ; she 
 -would follow me long distances across country 
 -wherever I went, running up half the trees we 
 passed in our wanderings in search of birds' nests, 
 and then go off poaching at night as if she had only 
 purred on the hearth all day. Tibb's principal 
 employment on my behalf was the bringing up the 
 stray or supernumerary young animals, scions of my 
 prolific and diverse happy family. The "storge," or 
 natural love of offspring, was deeply implanted in 
 Tib's breast, but it was not of an exclusive kind. 
 Her own young ones, of which she produced a litter 
 about every six months, being destroyed, she would 
 nurse a discretion young rabbits, young squirrels, 
 young ferrets, and, I verily believe, if 1 had tried 
 her, young rats. She made no coquettish scruples 
 on the subject, affected no natural reluctance, but on 
 the blind helpless young of any of these animals 
 being presented to her, she at once took them up in 
 
 N" 
 
178 Bo hover Forest. 9 
 
 her moutli, and retiring to her fayourite corner, 
 performed tlie maternal office with as much apparent 
 satisfaction as she would have done in the case of 
 her own murdered innocents. The young ferrets 
 were the most valued by me. They came as do the 
 oysters — but once a year ;* and the old doe had the 
 knack of producing, like an Irish peasant, more than 
 she could possibly maintain. Tib was the America 
 to which the redundant population was carried for 
 support, and very proud she was of the charge, and 
 well she sustained it. Her foster-children in after 
 life repaid her care by bolting the rats from their 
 holes, which Tib —who alone among cats had learnt 
 the art and mystery of ferreting — would catch and 
 kill like a terrier. Yery few, if any cats will face a 
 rat (I am not sure that Tib would) ; but, sitting 
 motionless near the mouth of a hole while the ferret 
 was working within, she would seize at a bound the 
 terrified fugitive as he fled from his hole, and run off 
 with him to devour or torment at leisure. 
 
 Eat-catching is a noble pursuit. Mr. Buckland 
 has declared there are two descriptions of fishing — 
 salmon fishing and gudgeon fishing ; I say there are 
 
 * I refer to the pole-cat ferret. The common white ferret 
 breeds twice in the year. 
 
Master Bh Youthful Re^niniscences. 179 
 
 two kinds of hunting — fox hunting and rat hunting. 
 Of the tirst we have treated elsewhere ; of the 
 second no trustworthy record or elementary treatise 
 exists. 
 
 " Caret vate sacro." 
 
 Would it were otherwise ! The rat is the wariest, 
 craftiest, and boldest of beasts. Skill, and caution, 
 and experience, and good ferrets, and well-trained 
 dogs, are essential to the successful pursuit of this 
 noble though as yet unhonoured phase of sporting, 
 and not less hunting strategy than in the chase of 
 bold Eeynard. We may in a future chapter give an 
 account of a rat hunt on scientific principles ; for the 
 present we proceed with our own, to us, more in- 
 teresting memoirs. 
 
 n2 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 PUPIL AKD PRECEPTOR. 
 
 Nat Belt had two children besides my friend Bill — 
 Sam, the eldest, a fine young man, who acted as aide- 
 de-camp (I mean under keeper), and, as his father 
 asserted, " knew a'most as much of game and dogs 
 and vermin as he did himself ; " the other, Barbara 
 or Baby Belt, a rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed lass of 
 eighteen, the bosom friend of Patty the nurserymaid, 
 who, under Mrs. Bedwyn's superintendence, had the 
 charge of Master B. Baby was not idle ; she kept 
 the lodge clean and tidy, waited on her mother, who 
 was an invalid, fed the fowls, reared the pheasants, 
 taught in the Sunday school, and led the choir in the 
 parish church, besides coming in to work at the Great 
 
Pupil and Preceptor. i8i 
 
 House, as ours was called, whenever a county ball or 
 some home festival brought with it more work than 
 my sisters' maid could possibly get through. She 
 was one of the prettiest girls I ever saw, and as good 
 as she was pretty. Indeed, the whole family were 
 good in their way, well bred, well brought up, and 
 well conducted ; it was evidently considered that 1 
 should take no harm from a rather unusual degree of 
 intimacy with them ; and my visits to the keeper's 
 lodge were rather encouraged by my excellent mother, 
 who did not share in Mrs. Bedwyn's class prejudices. 
 I generally had tea at the lodge about once a week ; 
 and a present of a pound or two of souchong now 
 and then may have been intended as an equivalent 
 for the inordioate quantity of hot bread and butter 
 which I consumed on such occasions. Tea was eight 
 shillings a pound in those days. 
 
 " Can you read, Mr. Belt ? " said I one afternoon, 
 sitting over the fire after tea, while Baby was washing 
 up the cups and saucers, and Sam had gone out on 
 his rounds. " Can you read, Mr. Belt ? " 
 " Well, Master B., I can read my Bible." 
 *' Or any other person's Bible, I suppose ? " 
 " No, I won't say that, Master B. I was taught 
 to read in this Bible here, reaching down an old, red- 
 
1 82 Bo hover Forest, 
 
 covered, brazen-clasped book from the sbelf beside 
 him. " It was given me by master's brother, the 
 parson, I mean, when I was a boy at his school, more 
 than fifty years ago, and I don't know as I could read 
 out of any other." 
 
 I took the book in my hand, and found that though 
 the Gospels were well thumbed and somewhat dirty, 
 the rest of the book was perfectly clean, and the 
 leaves slightly adhered to each other, as if they had 
 been rarely, if ever, opened. Young as I was, I con- 
 cluded at once that Mr. Belt's powers of reading were 
 limited to the chapters he had thumbed over in the 
 Sunday school fifty years before. 
 
 "Then, Mr. Belt," said I, "you can read no book 
 but the Bible ? " 
 
 " No book but the Bible, Master B." 
 
 " I read," said I, " beautiful books about natural 
 history, every day ; and if you like I'll teach you." 
 
 "Let's know what natural history's all about first, 
 Master B." 
 
 "All about birds, and beasts, and trees, and vol 
 canoes, and flying fish," said I. 
 
 The suggestion appearing to find favour in Mr. 
 Belt's eyes, I immediately ran home, bringing back 
 with me a beautifully-bound book with coloured 
 
Pupil and Preceptor, 183 
 
 prints of British birds, and descriptions of their 
 manners and habits, " for the instruction of children." 
 Opening the book, and pointing to the picture of a 
 bright blue-backed kingfisher, Nat begged me to read 
 what was said about a bird he was in the constant 
 habit of watching by the little river forming on one 
 side the boundary of the manor. Accordingly, perched 
 on a three-legged stool by the chimney-corner, Baby, 
 who had finished washing up the tea-things, sitting 
 opposite, old Belt smoking his pipe with a somewhat 
 critical expression on his countenance, I commenced : 
 
 " ' The kingfisher, Alcedo hispida — ' " 
 
 " What's that. Master B. ? " 
 
 "That's the Latin name of the kingfisher, Mr. 
 Belt." 
 
 "And what's the use of a Latin name, Master B., 
 when we're talking English ? " 
 
 "Yes; but we might talk to a foreigner, you 
 know, and then he'd know what bird we meant." 
 
 " All right, Master B. ; and when I talk to a 
 furriner I'll call it ' Hispider ' — only I don't want to. 
 I hate them furrineering papishers." 
 
 — " ' is one of the most beautiful of the British 
 aquatic birds.' " 
 
 " What's ' a quatic,' Master B. ? " 
 
184 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 " A bird that lives in the water, I think, Mr. 
 Belt." 
 
 " But the kingfisher don't live in the water. But 
 go on, sir. I beg pardon for interrupting." 
 
 " ' Its usual habitat ' " — I saw old Belt's mouth 
 twitch, but innate good manners restrained him, and 
 he said nothing — " ' is the bank of some meandering 
 stream or silent lake. Its principal food consists of 
 small fish, which the bird catches with singular 
 dexterity. Por the purpose of attracting its prey- 
 within reach of its unerring aim, Nature, which does 
 nothing in vain, has clothed the kingfisher witli 
 brightest feathers of cerulean hue — ' " 
 
 "I wonder, then," muttered Belt, "that IS'ature 
 didn't put the blue on the bird's breast, where the 
 fish could see it, instead of on its back where they 
 can't." 
 
 "' The kingfisher's nest is composed of fish-bones 
 and similar substances, cemented together by a sort 
 of glue with which the bird is furnished. She take& 
 possession, for the purpose of nidification, of some 
 deserted rat's or sand-martin's hole, always in the 
 close vicinity of water. She lays three or four 
 pinky-coloured eggs, on which she sits alternately 
 with her mate until they are hatched. If taken 
 
Pupil and Preceptor. 185 
 
 from the nest it is difficult, not to say impossible, to 
 bring up the young birds.' " 
 
 " And you believe all that, Master B. ? " 
 ""Why, yes ; it's here in print, you see." 
 Mr. Belt's face wore an expression that made me 
 ask whether he found anything wrong in the account 
 I had read of the kingfisher and its habits. 
 
 "Anythiug wrong, Master B. ? "Why it's all 
 wrong altogether — leastways all I can understand of 
 it, as I know who have watched them for these 
 forty years. Kingfisher! — why she makes her own 
 hole ; I've seen her at it year after year. She lays 
 seven eggs, no more, no less ; they are white eggs, 
 they are, and the shell so thin you can see the yolk 
 shining through them ; she hatches them all, too— 
 there are seven young kingfishers in the nest as sure 
 as there are seven days in the week. Made of fish- 
 bones ! — she don't build no nest at all, but as she 
 sits on her eggs she throws up the bits of bones 
 around her, and the young ones afterwards they do 
 so too, and that makes a sort of wall round them, 
 and a very bad smell it has. I've found a nest a mile 
 from the water or more, and brought up the young 
 ones, too ! But go on, Master B., and read about 
 something else, please ! " 
 
1 86 Bo hover Forest, 
 
 "Shall I read about pigeons, Mr. Belt?" and 
 taking up another book, I commenced : " We have 
 now arrived at the third order of birds, the i?a- 
 wres — ' " 
 
 '•' What's they, Master B. ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know. Oh yes, I see, they are 
 scratching birds; the same as cocks and hens, and 
 pheasants, and partridges, you know." 
 
 " Well, they are scratching birds, they are, and 
 running birds, too. Pigeons neither scratch nor run, 
 their legs ain't made for it." 
 
 " * The nest consists of a few sticks laid across, so 
 thin in substance that the eggs or young may some- 
 times be distinguished through them from below. 
 This structure is usually sixteen or twenty feet 
 above the ground,'" — ("I have seen it five, and I 
 have seen it fifty," muttered Belt) — '"and suffi- 
 ciently broad to afford room for both parents and 
 their young.' " — (" There's room for one old bird at 
 a time, and hardly that.") — "'Two eggs are laid,'" 
 — (" That's true ! ") — " ' which are hatched in sixteen 
 or seventeen days.' " — (" Depends on which they 
 count from.") — " ' The young are supplied with food 
 reproduced from the crops of the parent birds, who, 
 inserting their own beak between the mandibles of 
 
Pupil a?id Preceptor, 187 
 
 the young bird, thus feed them with a soft and 
 pulpy mass.' "* 
 
 "Eead that again, Master B., will you?" I did 
 so. "Well, I thought I understood it right; and 
 now don't read any more. Why, every one who has 
 ever seen a young pigeon feed knows that it shoves 
 its bill into that of the old one, cock or hen, and 
 sucks away, just as a young calf does at his mother. 
 I have seen two young ones with their heads half 
 down their mother's throat, pressing down till they 
 a'most choked her. That's one of the many differ- 
 ences between pigeons and all other birds that ever 
 I knew; aud what's the use of your books, that 
 teach such nonsense as you've been reading to me, 
 Master B. ? Better come out on the rounds with me 
 or Sam — Sam knows a thing or two, he does ! — and 
 see for yourself, than to go wasting your time in 
 reading books full of ignorance, like them." 
 
 Slightly nettled at Mr. Belt's contemptuous re 
 jection of the knowledge I had been so anxious to 
 impart to him, I asked in what respect pigeons 
 differed from other birds, especially birds of their own 
 <jlass. 
 
 " Well," said Belt, " look at a pheasant or a barn- 
 * Yarrell ; vol. ii. p. 107. 
 
1 88 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 door fowl, Master B. He has strong legs for run- 
 ning, and strong claws for scratching, but weak 
 wings for flying. Look at a pigeon ; he has weak 
 legs for running and weak claws for scratching, but 
 strong wings for flying. Then pigeons pair, fowls 
 don't ; pigeons build on trees, fowls on the ground ; 
 pigeons lay two eggs always, fowls a lot of eggs never 
 alike in number. The cock pigeon sits and helps to 
 feed its young, the cock pheasant don't do either. 
 Chickens can pick and feed themselves as soon as 
 they are born ; young pigeons — I have told you how 
 they are fed — are as helpless as any birds I know. 
 Pigeons drinh like a horse, the others are forced ta 
 lift up their heads and let the water trickle down, 
 their throats. Pigeons have no gall, fowls have. 
 But I've told you enough of diff'erences, haven't I 
 Master B. ? " 
 
 I confessed he had considerably enlarged my views 
 on the subject, and began in my heart rather to 
 despise my books. 
 
 " And now I'll tell you, Master B., how the young 
 pigeons you eat in pies are fed ! and you won't find 
 that in your books, I'll be bound. They are brought 
 up by hand, or by mouth rather. They are taken as 
 squabs from the nest, packed by dozens in a large 
 
Pupil and Preceptor. 189 
 
 shallow box or basket, and fed by a dirty, ragged 
 boy, who chews boiled peas and bread and stuff in 
 his mouth, and when it is full of pulp he takes them 
 up two at a time, and lets them routle with their 
 bills one at eacb comer of his mouth, till they have 
 sucked their little crops as full as they will hold. 
 Then he takes up two more, till his mouth is emptied 
 and their crops filled. That's the way pigeon-pies 
 are made, Master B. ! " 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 DOG-BEEAKING. 
 
 Me. Belt had hardly done talking when Sam entered 
 the room, accompanied by a young man of about his 
 own age, who was cordially greeted by Mr. Belt as 
 " Cliarlie," and by Baby as " Mr. Bond ; " the greet- 
 ing of the young lady being accompanied by an arch, 
 not to say meaning, smile. "We had just seated our- 
 selves round the crackling hearth when Baby's 
 especial friend Patty made her appearance, in search, 
 as she said, of Master B., who was sure to be in mis- 
 chief when he was out of her sight. Patty was 
 evidently quite taken by surprise at the presence of 
 the stranger, whom, however, she appeared to know, 
 and greeted very demurely, blushing at the same 
 
Dog- breaking, 191 
 
 time more than the occasion seemed to require. 
 Baby giggled, and a somewhat awkward pause ensued, 
 which was broken by Sam's novel remark, that it was 
 a cold night for the time of year ; which proposition 
 being assented to, the conversation became general. 
 
 Mr. Charles, or, as Belt called him, Charlie Bond, 
 was the subject of no little gossip and speculation 
 in our little world. "Whether Mr. Belt or his son 
 knew who or w^hat he was was uncertain, but assur- 
 edly no one else did. He was a good-looking young 
 man, with light hair and whiskers, and his hands 
 showed no signs of hard work; indeed, their com- 
 plexion and that of his face were those of one who is 
 not much in the open air. He lived at Slowton, our 
 market town, about five miles distant, and that was 
 all that was known of liim. Some said that he was a 
 brewer's clerk, some a sign painter; others, again, 
 that he was a "literary gent." He seldom came 
 among us, but was always welcome when he did 
 come. Charlie was a proficient in all athletic sports; 
 when in the mood he would perform the most extra- 
 ordinary gymnastic tricks, which enthralled my 
 youthful imagination. He could bend himself back- 
 wards, and pick up a sixpence off the floor ; he could 
 touch the back of his head with his toe, place a glass 
 
192 Bolsover Forest, \ 
 
 brimful of water on his head, and stooping down, 
 take a pin from the ground in his mouth without 
 spilling a drop ; he could twist himself backwards 
 round the balusters like a snake, or, tying himself as 
 it were in a knot, peep at you from between his legs. 
 I never saw his equal on or off the stage. He was 
 quiet and reserved, and rarely spoke of himself; but 
 I once overheard him tell Mr. Belt that he had a 
 permanent position, a guinea a week, and a good 
 house over his head. 
 
 It was, as I afterwards understood, pretty well 
 known that Charlie Bond " kept company " with 
 Patty, who, though she seemed to me to be as old as 
 the patriarchs (for what child's nurse or mother is 
 not old in its eyes ?), was a particularly nice-looking 
 young woman. An hour had been passed very plea- 
 santly, when Patty declared it was time for me to go 
 to bed. Charlie offered to see us safe home, and 
 Patty acceded to the proposition, on condition that 
 Baby accompanied us ; the result of which arrange- 
 ment was, that the short path being very narrow, 
 Baby and I walked first by ourselves, and Patty, my 
 natural protector, with Charlie Bond, followed at 
 some little distance. There was a little scuffling 
 and confusion at parting, and Patty for the rest 
 
Dog-breaki7ig. 193 
 
 of the evening seemed unusually thouglitful and 
 pensive. 
 
 I took my accustomed walk to tlie keeper's lodge 
 immediately after breakfast next morning, and found 
 Mr. Belt engaged with two of his latest pupils, Shot 
 and Grouse, a brace of promising pointer puppies, 
 well bred and handsome. Shot at my entrance was 
 cowering in a corner, evidently in disgrace and suf- 
 fering under a consciousness of it ; his head, nay his 
 whole body, seemed pressed against the sanded floor, 
 as though he would hide himself, and his beseeching 
 eyes, which alone showed signs of life, appeared to 
 ask piteously for some token of forgiveness. Grouse, 
 on the other hand, sat upright on his haunches, with 
 a self-satisfied expression of countenance which 
 seemed to exult over his humiliated brother, and, 
 with little Jack Horner, to cry, " "What a good boy 
 ami!" 
 
 " What's the matter with Shot, Mr. Belt? " 
 
 " He's misbehaved himself, and I've punished him . 
 That's alL" 
 
 " Did you flog him, Mr. Belt ? " 
 
 " Plog him ! No ; I'd never train a dog that 
 wanted flogging. I ain't like that brute Jerry Cant, 
 that flogs his dogs before he goes into the field to 
 
194 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 make them mind wliat they're about, lie says. I've 
 got a dog- whip up there, as you see. Master B., and 
 I touches *em with it at times, just that they maj 
 tnow what the whip is ; but I'll have no dogs about 
 me as wants flogging, and I won't flog dogs as don't 
 want it." 
 
 "But how do you break your dogs in the field, 
 Mr. Belt ? " 
 
 " Break's a bad word. Master B.; I train my dogs, 
 and I train 'em in this very room " — the room was 
 about twelve feet square. " Look'ee, sir, a dog only 
 wishes to know one thing, and that is what you want 
 him to do ; and he only wants to learn one thing, 
 and that is how to do it. Come here, Shot." 
 
 Shot, twisting his body into impossible contor- 
 tions, came wriggling towards his master, his hazel 
 eyes full of moisture, and his thin tail vibrating witli 
 a rapidity of motion that made you dread it would 
 break into pieces like a stricken slowworm. Having 
 received the seal of pardon in the shape of a slight 
 caress from Belt's horny hand, the dog at once reco- 
 vered his natural bearing, and giving a yelp of de- 
 light, which was echoed by his now sympathising 
 brother Grrouse, sat intently watching his master's 
 eye. Surely man is the dog's god ! 
 
Dog-breaking, ig^ 
 
 " Hold up, good dogs ! " said Belt ; and the crea- 
 tures at once bounded about the room. " To-ho ! " 
 holding up his hand, and at the word both dropped 
 motionless on the sanded floor. As they lay, Belt 
 took up a gun capped, but not loaded, and snapped 
 both barrels over their heads. Grouse pricked up 
 his ears, but on receipt of a reproving " Down 
 charge, sir ! " lay perfectly motionless, until the old 
 man had gone through the form of loading his gun, 
 when another "Hold up, good dogs! " set them on 
 their legs again. I was much interested in the 
 lesson, and begged Mr. Belt to repeat it, but he 
 declined, saying it was quite possible to have too 
 much of a good thing, and it was always unwise to 
 weary a puppy by the repetition of a lesson he had 
 already learnt. 
 
 " I shall take them pups into the field to-morrow. 
 Master B., and you'll see how they behave." 
 
 " But how do you teach them to point ? " I asked. 
 
 " Nature teaches them that. Master B. I expect 
 that at first a point was only a pause that a dog 
 made to be sure where the game lay before he 
 sprung upon it ; but the pause has been lengthened 
 out, first into a stop and then into a point ; and the 
 liabit has descended from one generation to another 
 
 o2 
 
196 Bohover Forest, 
 
 till a well-bred puppy points on coming on the scent 
 of the game just as naturally as he curls himself up 
 to sleep, or shakes himself when he awakes." 
 
 " But if he point on the scent of game, why should 
 he not on the scent of anything else — a lark or a 
 sparrow, a cat or a mouse ? " 
 
 " Why, so he will, Master B. ; but he soon learns 
 to take no notice of 'em when he sees you don't. 
 He'll do so all the sooner if he's well treated, mind 
 ye ; for where's the use of beating a dog for igno- 
 rance, like Jerry Cant does ? A dog, like a child, 
 must learn what he is to do, and what he isn't, and 
 flogging only confuses and cows him and keeps him 
 looking at the whip, and thinking of it instead of 
 what you want him to think o£. When a puppy 
 points at a lark, or a sparrow, or a mouse, or a 
 snake, just take no notice o£ him, turn away, or, 
 what he feels most of all, just laugh at him quietly — 
 sneer like : neither dog nor horse can abide being 
 laughed at. There are only three things I teacli my 
 dogs, and every one knows they're the best in the 
 country : to keep to heel till they're told to hunt ; 
 to hunt when they are told; and to drop to hand. 
 All the rest comes by nature. And now. Master B., 
 if you'll take my old single barrel, I'll show you a 
 
Dog 'breakmg. 197 
 
 bit how to use it, and give you a lessou indoors first, 
 just as I do the puppies. Lay hold of the gun, sir, 
 and cock it — you know how. Yery good ; only 
 don't cock it another time until the muzzle has got 
 well away from my line, over my head or down on 
 the ground. You can't have a gun in a better posi- 
 tion for cocking than when it's nearly upright ; and 
 now. Master B., let's see you put it on half-cock." 
 Touching the trigger with my finger, and holding the 
 hammer with my thumb, I let it gradually down 
 until it caught at the half-cock. " That's a danger- 
 ous plan. Master B. ; always let the hammer down 
 pretty close upon the cap, and then draw it back till 
 you hear the click. Look here, sir," said he, point- 
 ing to a detached lock he was cleaning ; " this is the 
 tumbler ; and the trigger, you see, catches in one or 
 other of those fine nicks, which make the whole or 
 the half-cock. Letting it down as you did is just 
 like shutting a door by turning the handle : it very 
 often catches without going into the groove, and a 
 shake or a jar will make the lock fly open, or set the 
 gun off. Let the spring act, and whether it is door- 
 lock or gun-lock it will hold fast. And now. Master 
 B., go to the other end of the room, and for this 
 once take aim at my eye ; and mind, you're never to 
 
iqS Bohover Forest. 
 
 take aim at any living thiug again unless you mean 
 to kill it. But this is a lesson, you know, so put 
 your ramrod down to make sure there is nothing in 
 the barrel, and take your place." 
 
 I did so, and the clear ringing sound of the ram- 
 rod striking upon the breeching showed that, as he 
 well knew, the barrel was empty. 
 
 "Now, sir! turn the muzzle away; cock your 
 gun; place your left hand close to the guard, your 
 right forefinger on it. Look straight at my right 
 eye (no ! keep both yours open), and bring your gun 
 up to your shoulder. Yery good ! and now shut 
 one eye and squint dow^n the barrel, and you'll see 
 that it bears straight upon mine. Now ! do the- 
 same again, and when you have brought the gun up 
 to the shoulder pull the trigger." I follow^ed my in- 
 structions, and had the pleasure of hearing the old 
 man say, " Well done, Master B. ! you've a true eye, 
 and if your gun had been loaded I should never have 
 heard the report. And now, never let me see the 
 inside of your barrel again as long as I live, except 
 when I'm cleaning of it. How should you carry 
 your gun? some say up, .some down, some on the 
 hollow of your arm, some on the shoulder ; they are 
 all right at times, but the real safe way of carrying a 
 
Doer-breaking. 199 
 
 't> ^' ^-—"-^ 
 
 gun is never, even for a moment, to have the muzzle 
 pointed towards man or beast. And now, Master B., 
 to treat you as I do the puppies, I won't give you 
 too much lesson at once." 
 
 Early in the ensuing morning Mr. Belt, the pup- 
 pies, and myself, were on our way to the trial 
 ground, a large field ofi' which a crop of barley had 
 been taken, the short stubble now hidden by a crop 
 of young clover. 
 
 " No, no. Shot ! softly, Grrouse ! go to heel, good 
 dogs," said Belt as we approached the gap. " 'Ware 
 fence, 'ware fence," and the puppies, who were 
 coupled together, slunk behind their master as he 
 .passed into the barley ash. "And now, puppies," 
 taking off the couples as he spoke, " let's see what 
 you're made of." At a wave of the hand the high- 
 bred dogs bounded forth, and it was both a beautiful 
 and an interesting sight to watch the development of 
 what I must consider the reasoning power as apart 
 from, or in addition to, instinct. At the signal they 
 dashed forward, as I have said, seeking with their 
 noses up-wind for something, they knew not what, 
 — but still, in obedience to their master's signals, 
 quartering the ground and seeking on in blind but 
 undoubting confidence of finding it. Grouse took 
 
200 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 the lead, Shot following closelj, the two running, 
 stopping, turning together, as though animated by 
 one spirit. " Shot is shy and modest, you see, sir, 
 but he'll soon take to hunting on his own account ; 
 he has the finer nose of the two, Shot has. So-oftly, 
 puppies ! so-oftly ! " as with a bewildered, anxious 
 air Shot came to a half stop, and Grouse, who was a 
 few yards ahead, turned towards him. A moment of 
 indecision, and then both dogs stood erect, stiff, 
 rigid, and immovable. Excepting that the muscles 
 of the nose quivered they might have been carved 
 out of stone. How beautiful they looked — every 
 muscle at its full tension, living, but apparently 
 spell-bound. "There, sir," whispered Belt, "that's 
 nature, that's breeding. All the breaking in the 
 world couldn't teach that. They'd stand like that 
 for an hour." Then making a considerable circuit 
 we passed round so as to have the birds between us 
 and the dogs. When within ten yards my com- 
 panion stopped and pointed out to me a brace of 
 partridges which lay crouched close to the ground 
 within six feet of the dogs' noses, their bright eyes 
 fixed upon us. As my eye met the birds, they rose 
 with whirring wing. Grrouse plunged forward, but 
 instantly dropped, as Shot had instinctively done at 
 Belt's warning, " To ho ! To ho ! Down charge ! " 
 
Dog - breaking . 201 
 
 A minute elapsed, and tliey were allowed to hunt 
 again, their first impulse being to rush frantically 
 about the spot, drinking in as it were the lingering 
 scent ; but, without rating, they were gradually 
 removed from the spot, and commenced hunting if 
 possible more systematically than before, with a like 
 result. 
 
 In accordance with Nat's practice, this lesson did 
 not last too long, and I found myself at home again 
 before half the family were out of bed. 
 
 Were it not that I fear to tire the reader with 
 honest Nat Belt, I could recount many excellent 
 lessons I received from him on every point con- 
 nected with shooting and dog-breaking, from the 
 loading of my guD to the management of my pointers 
 and the carrying home of the game. The first 
 mainly regarded the safety of myself as well as of 
 others, the second the development of the instincts 
 of the dogs and keeping them in subjection without 
 cowing them. To come up to call or whistle, to 
 keep to heel, to drop to hand or shot, were the 
 essentials. All the rest, Mr. Belt affirmed, came 
 from observation, encouragement, and experience. 
 Certainly I never saw dogs that excelled those 
 broken by Nat Belt, in the ordinary or extraordinary 
 
202 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 qualities of a pointer. They took the wind, they 
 quartered the ground, they backed, they stood, they 
 dropped to shot, and sometimes a vsry old and wise 
 one was allowed to retrieve^ a young one never. 
 Nat Belt's dogs were not to be excelled. 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 boyhood's pleasures. 
 
 I roEGET what the story is in which, a little boy, his 
 face ruddy from sliding, his hands red-hot from snow- 
 balling, rushes in and proclaims to his mamma liis 
 simple wish tliat it might always be winter ; he writes 
 down his wish, and again in the spring, after a butter- 
 fly chase, and the manufacture of a cowslip ball, he 
 writes down, " Would it were always spring ! " He 
 does the same in summer, and the same in autumn ; 
 and tbe beautiful and truthful moral is, that all 
 seasons have their especial pleasures, and, properly 
 enjoyed, are equally deliglitful. It is the same with 
 life ; that season on which retrospection is fixed for 
 the time appears to have been the most delightful, and 
 
204 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 it ia then tliat we seem to have truly enjoyed life. 
 Certainly this was a happy time in mine ; I had got 
 beyond the age of childhood, and my mind was suffi- 
 ciently open to enjoy, if not to appreciate, the 
 beauties and wonders of nature. 
 
 When my brothers were at home from school, our 
 daily pastimes and pursuits were of a rough, bois- 
 terous character, as befitted healtby lads of our age — 
 
 " Turning to mirtli all things on earth, 
 As only boyhood can." 
 
 We flew kites and drove boops, and played leap- 
 frog, and foot-ball, and quoits, and cricket, according 
 to the seasons. We jumped with poles and without 
 poles, we ran races and performed many pedestrian 
 feats, we scampered over the country on rough ponies, 
 and made life as far as possible one long holiday. A 
 favourite pastime, I remember, was to burrow through 
 the huge heaps of straw which, in those days of 
 indifferent farming, were piled up in the yard after 
 harvest. There was a sense of mysterious loneliness 
 and concealment when we arrived at the centre, and 
 formed a sort of nest, wherein we held high council, 
 and matured deep-laid plan of fun or mischief. 
 Hither, too, we conveyed sundry unconsidered trifles 
 
Boyhood? s Pleasures. 205 
 
 of an esculent nature, and enjoyed our feast beyond 
 any measure which the subject-matter could justify. 
 Stolen waters are sweet ; but I think that a bottle of 
 unsugared green gooseberries I once got hold of 
 fairly beat us. 
 
 Dragging the pond was one of our gTeatest delights. 
 We always knew when that event was coming off by 
 the presence of a large tub filled with water at the 
 brink ; this was to keep those fish alive which had the 
 good fortune to be returned to their native element. 
 The drag was a source of infinite enjoyment. Mr. 
 Belt superintended, and Sam and Bill, and the gar- 
 dener and the grooms, and Greorge, the good-natured 
 footman, sometimes even Mr. Stokes, the butler him- 
 self, assisted. Then there were such splashings at the 
 sides to drive the great fish to the middle of the pond ; 
 such hauling to get the net through the weeds; 
 such anxious pauses to allow it to work; and such 
 intense excitement when, as it approached the shore 
 at the remotest corner, the fish appeared floundering, 
 splashing, and gasping amid the black liquid mud 
 which filled the bag. Hauled ashore, each boy seized 
 by hand, or net, or pot, or pan, such fish as he could 
 appropriate : great sulky pike, gasping carp, slimy 
 tench, slippery eels, one and all, were conveyed, amid 
 
2o6 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 shouts of laughter, to the big tub ; and the best being 
 selected for food or presents, the rest were returned 
 to be dragged forth on some future festive occasion. 
 Bathing was another of our boyish delights. I think 
 the clay-bottomed pond in which I learned to swim 
 must have been of most modest dimensions, but it 
 was a lake in my eyes, and the first half-crown I ever 
 earned was given me by my father for swimming 
 across it. That half-crown, by the way, I presented 
 in the fulness of my delight to the itinerant pro- 
 prietor of a Punch and Judy exhibition at Slowton. 
 I occupied the dress circle, that is, I sat on the 
 churchyard wall, and witnessed this, the first theatrical 
 exhibition I had ever seen. The manager, who had 
 received my liberal donation in his hat, voted me a 
 young brick, a word just then coined, and after 
 spitting upon it, pocketed the money with great glee. 
 It appeared at the time — and I am not sure even 
 now that my impression was incorrect — that a 
 horrible act of tyranny was performed when my 
 grandfather, a J.P. for the county, happening to pass 
 by, peremptorily ordered the grumbling vagrant to 
 return the money, under a threat of instant incar- 
 ceration as a rogue and a vagabond. 
 
 Our swimming in the pond excited the curiosity of 
 
Boyhood'' s Pleasures, 207 
 
 those strange, harmless creatures, the water-rats, 
 sole representatives of the ancient family of beavers, 
 a colony of whom — rats, I mean, not beavers — had 
 settled in the banks. They would come out of their 
 holes, and, their light bodies half out of water, glide 
 among us, apparently actuated by simple wonder at 
 our appearance and proceedings. Their reception 
 was not such as their simple confidence deserved ; 
 but we were generally too eager and excited to hurt 
 them, and the stupid beasts, after diving once or 
 twice among us, would regain their holes in safety. 
 
 Bird-catching, by means of brick traps and wicker 
 baskets, snares and springs, was among our favourite 
 pursuits, and many a score of sparrows, larks, and 
 thrushes were caught by these means, or by the bat- 
 folding nets held against the eaves of the stacks, or 
 the dense evergreens which crowded the house. The 
 gardener generally held the net, one boy carried a 
 lighted lantern suspended on a stick behind it, whilst 
 the others beat the bushes or poked under the eaves 
 in front. The barns and cow-houses, nay, the 
 church tower itself, was visited, and some lighted 
 candles being fixed on the beams on which we were 
 perched, the scared birds, naturally seeking the light 
 were struck down by sticks, or caught in the hand. 
 
2o8 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 Hedge-hopping, too, was a favourite pursuit: we 
 would separate on each side of a hedge, and finding a 
 small bird, chase and pelt and drive him till he was 
 fairly beaten into a corner, and fell a quaking victim 
 into our hands. We would wake an old white owl 
 from her dreamy slumber in some lone field barn, and 
 as she flew forth blinded by the sun and frightened by 
 our shouts, pursue with little less than her own 
 speed, until we had captured or destroyed her. 
 Cruel, all this, I know, but boys think little of the 
 pain they inflict; they are cruel because they are 
 thoughtless, and their thoughtlessness seems to 
 increase in precise proportion to their numerical 
 force. I question whether any boy would alone, 
 under any circumstances, take the life of bird or 
 beast. 
 
 I know that for myself, the moment that my 
 brothers and their wild companions had left me, 
 I relapsed into a silent, loving contemplation of 
 Nature, and would sit for hours quiet and motionless 
 on the branch of an old pear-tree — a favourite resort 
 of mine — and mark the humble bee as he went 
 buzzing by, or the sharp, sudden turn of the swallow 
 snapping the winged insect I had disturbed, or watch 
 the pretty, lady-like tree-creeper as it ran like 
 
Boyish Pleasures. 209 
 
 a mouse up the tree against whicli I leaned ; or the 
 beautiful nuthatch fixing within a cleft of the bark, 
 the nut of which, making a fulcrum of his tail and 
 using his sharp bill as a hammer, he would break, and 
 devour the kernel. I took pleasant walks with Belt 
 as he visited his traps, and learnt the habits of the 
 wild creatures stigmatized as vermin — then, as now, 
 the objects of a war of extermination. I learnt 
 to distinguish the track of every four-footed beast, 
 the song, or note, or flight of every bird — and there 
 were many birds then common which, alas ! are now 
 extinct or passing rare. The fork-tailed kite sailed 
 gracefully with outstretched, motionless winga aloft 
 in the blue air j the kestrel hovered over the field, the 
 sparrowhawk sat wakeful and watching on the dry 
 branch of the oak at the end of the hedgerow, 
 the hen-harrier beat the low ground with the skill 
 and patience of a setter, and the graceful merlins 
 hunted in pairs. Wild notes of the woodpecker, the 
 jay, and the magpie were heard at every corner ; and 
 the presence of a dead horse or beast — not then as 
 now sent to market for human food — was attested 
 within a few hours by the deep croak of the raven, 
 whose mission, with the carrion-crow, the buzzard, 
 and birds of their kind is, like that of the vultures in 
 
 p 
 
2IO Bo hover Forest, 
 
 the East, to remove from the face of the earth decay- 
 ing animal matter, which might otherwise pollute the 
 wholesome air. 
 
 ^y "joy of youthful sports" was birds' -nesting. 
 Cruel again ! I hear some excellent old lady of either 
 sex exclaim. I deny it ; there is no cruelty in birds'- 
 nesting, though, as in every other pursuit of boy or 
 man, where he is brought into relation with birds or 
 beasts, it may be made the instrument of cruelty. A 
 vast quantity of mawkish rubbish is talked about the 
 agonies of the bereaved mother, the vain flutterings 
 around the desolate home, and twaddle of that sort. 
 Surely such persons should abstain from eating eggs 
 for breakfast, and eschew batter puddings. Do they 
 suppose that an old hen likes to have her newly-laid 
 Q^g abstracted from the nest ? Surely not ; she dis- 
 iikes it. She protests against it, she pecks the hand 
 or flies at the face of the hen-wife who removes it, 
 she looks disconsolate when it is removed — for a 
 minute or two, and then — forgets all about it, and 
 prepares to lay another. Why, the Bible itself 
 expressly forbids the Hebrew to stretch forth his 
 hand against the sitting bird, and as expressly per- 
 mits the taking of the eggs or the capture of the 
 young. Birds'-nesting, I venture to say, brings out 
 
Boyish Pleasures. 211 
 
 more good qualities, mental and physical, in boys 
 than any other pursuit to which they addict them- 
 selves. Patience, observation, and endurance are 
 brought into play; a keen eye, a cool head, strong 
 muscles, and well-strung nerves are essential to the 
 pursuit. What system of gymnastics comes up to 
 tree-climbing ? It is like a paper-chase to a fox- 
 hunt, a sponging-bath to a free swim in the sea. 
 
 But we are not writing an essay, but a history. I 
 repeat, my "joy of youthful sports" was birds'- 
 nesting ; and the woods and well-timbered hedgerows 
 which abounded in our neighbourhood aiforded 
 ample scope to mj favourite pursuit. Scarce a copse 
 but held at least one magpie's or crow's nest, fre- 
 quently both ; and Thorney Wood was never known 
 to be without a buzzard's. In the distant forest of 
 Bolsover, a birds'-nesting paradise in my eyes, all 
 wild birds had their eyries and all wild beasts their 
 lairs. There the kites bred, and the raven and the 
 heron, hawks of all kinds, jays, magpies, and wood- 
 peckers. The bald-headed coot, the merry little 
 grebe, and the graceful moorhen tenanted the lone 
 pools which nestled in its depth ; and even wood- 
 cocks, snipes, and sandpipers were reported at times 
 to breed within its precincts. Foxes, badgers, hedge- 
 
 p2 
 
212 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 hogs, stoats, weasels, and their congeners were- 
 safely nurtured within its deep recesses, and from 
 thence spread themselves over the country. My 
 notion of the happy hunting-grounds was a dream of 
 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 Mr. Eelt entered fully into my enthusiasm on this 
 subject, and besides assisting me to feed and bring 
 up the young birds I brought home — generally of 
 the order Baptores, kites, hawks, or buzzards — gave 
 me most useful hints as to the whereabouts and the- 
 construction of their nests. 
 
 "You talked, Master B., the other day about 
 * classing,' as you call it, the pigeons along with the 
 cocks and hens. If you had thought of their nests, 
 you would never have made that mistake." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Belt," said I, " would you class birds 
 by their nests? " 
 
 *' And why not, if they are to be classed at all ? 
 There is no one thing that birds are so constant and 
 regular in as the making of their nests, more es- 
 pecially in their lining. Whoever saw a wren's or a 
 tit's nest that was not full of feathers, or a warbler's 
 with a feather in it ? Did you ever know a blackbird 
 line its nest with aught but fibrous roots, or a song- 
 thrush collect any soft lining at all ? Did you ever 
 
Boyish Pleasures. 213 
 
 see a finch's nest that was not finished to a hair, or a 
 missel-thrush that had not left a lock of wool hanging 
 over the side? Many a missel's nest has escaped 
 taking from the belief that it had been taken already. 
 The lining of a rook's nest is always slovenly, of 
 twitch and fibrous roots mostly ; a carrion crow's 
 is round and smooth as a basin, moss and cow 
 and horsehair. Then look at the little grebe — the 
 didopper, as you call her— she dives down to the 
 bottom of the pool for every morsel of weed with 
 which she lines her nest, though lots of the same sort 
 is floating on the surface ; the coot and the moor- 
 lien fetch theirs from a distance ; while the swan sits 
 on her nest and catches the floating pieces as they 
 pass." 
 
 I acknowledged the uniformity of birds in this 
 matter, and remarked that birds were very clever in 
 the art of concealing their nests ; but the old man 
 would not admit this. 
 
 " I don't believe, Master B., that they ever think of 
 hiding their nests at all, at least not until they have 
 been taken once or twice ; and then, as in everything 
 else, they profit by experience. Why should a bird 
 think that you and I want to take its nest ? If they 
 did, they would never come, as they do, near houses 
 
214 Bohover Forest, 
 
 and homesteads to build. Nine-tentlis of the black- 
 birds' and the thrushes' nests in a wood are within 
 ten feet of the ride. Nature provides for the protec- 
 tion of the eggs by colouring them like the substances, 
 near which they are laid. Eggs on the ground are 
 dark ; eggs in the bush are green or blue ; white eggs 
 are always hid in holes of trees or banks. There are 
 such like diiferences in the eggs of different birds ^ 
 but the same birds line their nests the same way, just 
 as they lay the same eggs." 
 
 This axiom I verified in numberless instances in 
 after years. I remember an especial one in a wild 
 part of Ireland called Ballycroy, where I lived 
 for some years. There is not a tree in the barony, 
 not one, I think, within four miles of where I was 
 located. I had observed that the water-ouzel in- 
 variably places four or five dried oak leaves beneath 
 the first lining of her nest. On examining one 
 taken close to my house, I found the five leaves. 
 oak leaves, as usual. Where did they come from ? 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 BIEDS'-NESTING. 
 
 One morning in the early spriDg I had obtained per- 
 mission to spend a long day in the forest birds'- 
 nesting. Bill was to accompany me, as well to " look 
 after" me as to carry a basket of provisions for our 
 al-fresco dinner, consisting of cold fowl, hard-boiled 
 eggs, and plenty of bread and butter. 
 
 Light were my slumbers the night before, and at 
 the first rattle of the gravel against the panes I 
 started from my bed, and throwing the casement 
 open, inhaled the sweet, cool air of the morning, and 
 viewed on the horizon the first streaks of the dawn. 
 Short were our orisons, limited our ablutions ; 
 hastily swallowing the cup of still hot tea, placed 
 
2i6 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 providently by kind hands on the hob, and taking 
 semicircular bites out of a thick piece of bread and 
 butter, I had within five minutes joined my companion 
 on the lawn; and full of gleeful anticipation, we 
 turned our faces in the direction of the distant 
 forest. Our road lay through the Dene, as the 
 beautifully-wooded narrow valley which stretches 
 away to Thorney Wood was called, and passed close 
 to the G-range, an ancient stone-built house sur- 
 rounded by a moat now partially filled up. It had 
 been a place of note in its time : a pair of massive 
 pieces of masonry showed where a heavy gate once 
 stood, and local antiquaries could trace the remains of 
 fosse and wall, and other defences. The Grange was 
 now nothing more than an excellent farmhouse, and 
 Mr. Stubbs, with whom I was an especial favourite, 
 its owner and occupant. 
 
 As we approached the Grange by the southern 
 entrance, the labourer earliest at his work saluted me 
 with a kindly " Good-morning, IMaster B. ! Up 
 betimes, sir!" and looking over the low wall, 1 
 recognized the burly form of Mr. Stubbs himself, 
 standing with his hands in his pockets in the only 
 corner of the yard as yet touched by the early 
 sunbeams, contemplating, apparently with much 
 
Birds'^ - nesting. 217 
 
 satisfaction, a cluster of two-year old Devon beasts, 
 some of which were lazily stretching themselves, the 
 majority lying asleep, but still chewing the cud, 
 among the thick, dry, straw. A greyhound sat on its 
 haunches, nestling his long nose against the flap of 
 Mr. Stubbs's pocket, in search of the hidden hand ; 
 and a little rough terrier at his feet, aware of my 
 approach, growled wickedly. Some well-bred, short- 
 faced, fine-coated breeding sows poked their heads out 
 of the litter as they heard the gate-latch rattle, anti- 
 cipating breakfast ; a long line of white Dorking 
 fowls were stepping, in apparently endless succession, 
 in single file, jerkingly out of the hen-house ; and a 
 multitude of pigeons overhead emerged from their 
 cote, in little clusters of threes and fours, and 
 commenced ruccattuctooing and bowing to each 
 other in most absurd fashion. A picture of peace 
 and plenty and animal comfort was that farmyard, 
 and dearly did Mr. Stubbs, its presiding genius, love 
 it. I was received with a warm grasp of the hand ; 
 and a hearty invitation to breakfast having been 
 declined on the ground of my recent meal, we pro- 
 ceeded together to the house, where my refusal was 
 condoned by the acceptance of a tumbler of rum and 
 milk. We found Mrs. Stubbs and her daughter 
 
2i8 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 Susan in the large hall which served for the general 
 sitting-room of the family ; and Mrs. Stubbs, who 
 prided herself on being a farmer's wife, as she was a 
 farmer's daughter, proceeded to the dairy to bring the 
 milk with her own hands. Susan, whose delight it 
 had been to play at nursing me as a baby some ten 
 years before, gave me a hearty kiss, at whicb Mr. 
 Stubbs laughed, and made some allusion to somebody 
 being jealous. Susan Stubbs was about twenty, a 
 good-tempered, fresh-coloured, smiling girl, with the 
 brightest of eyes and the softest of hair, her nose 
 slightly turned up and her mouth rather too wide for 
 perfect beauty ; but as the only daughter and heiress 
 of Mr. Stubbs of the Grrange, generally recognised as 
 such. It was understood that amongst her numerous 
 admirers Susan had but to pick and choose. For my 
 own part, I may confess that, next to Baby Belt, 1 
 adored Susan Stubbs. 
 
 Her mother soon returned with the milk, sweety 
 warm, and frothing from the pail ; a bottle of rum 
 and a sweet cake being produced from a corner cup- 
 board, I, for the first time in my life, tasted that 
 delectable compound, rum and milk. It was possible 
 I might have liked the milk pure and simple better, 
 but there was a charm in the novelty, and rum and 
 
Bird ^s-nesHng . 219 
 
 milk sounded so manly. I swallowed my tumbler at 
 a draught ; Bill, to whom, sitting by the kitchen fire, 
 Mrs. Stubbs had kindly taken a similar jorum, sat 
 prolonging the enjoyment by sipping it slowly, and 
 with intense delight. 
 
 "How's the fox, Mr. Stubbs?" said I; "how's 
 Charlie?" 
 
 "Oh! he's right enough, Master B. Crafty vaga- 
 bond! Come and see him." 
 
 Truth to tell, a visit to Mr. Stubbs's fox had been 
 almost as much in my mind as the visit to himself and 
 his charming family. " Charlie," the only fox I had 
 ever seen, was an object of unceasing interest to me. 
 His kennel was under the old moss-grown stone 
 steps, constructed long ago to aid the heavily-attired 
 horseman to climb to his bulky steed ; they stood 
 beneath a huge elm-tree which grew on the north 
 side of the house. Charlie, a collar round his neck, 
 with chain attached to a strong post, was seen as we 
 approached stretched on the topmost step, his nose 
 hidden between his forepaws, his ears laid flat to his 
 head, his bushy tail at full length in a line with his 
 body. As we came nearer he retained his position, 
 but seemed to press himself closer and closer to the 
 stone, and remained motionless. 
 
2 20 Bo hover Forest, 
 
 "Charlie, you rascal!" said Mr. Stubbs, "what 
 mischief have you been up to now ? Eh, Charlie ?" 
 
 The creature seemed to realise the fact tliat no 
 compliment was expressed or intended; he opened 
 his mouth to the utmost stretch of w^hich it was 
 capable, displaying a formidable array of sharp teeth, 
 and made a very peculiar noise, w^hich came from his 
 throat, and gave the idea of his having a bone stuck 
 in it. 
 
 "Look at him, Master B. Look at him now! 
 The cunning of that crittur beats all I've ever seen 
 or heard of. Would you believe it, he has made two 
 runs round his kennel, so as to cheat the chickens?" 
 
 There certainly were two — an inner aud an outer, 
 whatever might have been Charlie's intention in 
 making them. 
 
 " You see, the fowls soon learnt by experience how- 
 far Master Charlie could spring, and always kept out- 
 side the ring he had made by running round and 
 round at the full stretch of his chain;, so what does 
 he do but make an inner ring, and w^hen tlie chickens 
 come to pick a bone or any bit of food he may have 
 left (I believe the villain leaves it on purpose), he is 
 down upon them in no time. He killed two last 
 week and buried them. Eh, Charlie? You rogue, 
 you!" 
 
Bird ' s-nestino[. 221 
 
 Charlie hawked up another snarl from the pit of 
 his stomach. 
 
 "Buried them! Where!" 
 
 " Why, under those two stones he has managed to 
 loosen in the pavement; and he will take them up 
 and replace them, too, in less time than it takes me 
 to tell you. I one day laid a pheasant and a rabbit 
 down just here, and turned away but for a moment to 
 speak to a labourer ; the pheasant had vanished, and 
 it was only one of his tail feathers sticking out from 
 under the stone that saved me from thinking I was 
 bewitched." 
 
 "That looks as if foxes liked pheasants better 
 than rabbits, Mr. Stubbs?" 
 
 " So my lord's keeper said ; but it's no such thing. 
 The pheasant lay the handiest, so he took it and 
 buried it, as I told you ; he had no time for choice. 
 There's nothing, excepting a rat, that a fox likes so 
 much as a rabbit." 
 
 We were soon on our road again, our spirits, mine 
 especially, buoyant, boiling over. Perhaps the unac- 
 customed stimulant had something to do with it; but 
 there was enough to make me joyous without that. 
 Healthy and strong, without fear or care, engaged in 
 the pursuit I loved best, why should I not be happy ? 
 
222 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 It was a lovely morning, the newly-risen sun made 
 the dewdrops glisten like diamonds on the twigs, the 
 birds sang around and above us, the air was fresh 
 and wholesome, and all Nature seemed to rejoice 
 with us ; why should we not be happy ? 
 
 " Can you sing, Bill ? " said I. Bill thought he 
 could, but didn't know any words except those of 
 the Morning Hymn, which he had learnt at Sunday 
 school, and which he believed was only sung " to the 
 praise and glory of Grod." I proposed that he should 
 i5ing to the praise and glory of Grod then and there, 
 which Bill did ; and I still think that the hymn was 
 neither out of season nor out of place. After that 
 I sang " How doth the little busy bee," to the same 
 tune, and so we went rejoicing on our way. " Arcades 
 ambo et cantando pares," as I afterwards learnt to 
 quote. 
 
 Bolsover Forest was reached at last, and we lost 
 no time in plunging into its deepest recesses — down 
 long natural avenues, beneath oldest moss-grown 
 oaks, crooked thorns, and ancient nuts with trunks 
 like forest trees, and so on by copse and thicket, dell 
 and dingle, wild waste, and swampy rush-grown pas- 
 ture. Our search had been most successful with 
 regard to the number of eggs, but those which we 
 
o s^ 
 
 < A 
 
 1-! si 
 C aQ 
 
Birds ' - 7iesting. 223 
 
 had found were generally tlie more common ones. 
 The summer birds indeed, although they had arrived, 
 had not as yet built their nests. Our collection com- 
 prised nothing beyond blackbirds' and thrushes', 
 hedge-sparrows', chaffinches', and robins', of the 
 smaller birds ; a few rooks', magpies', and a single 
 kestrel's of the larger. As we passed along the dank, 
 sedgy outskirts of a deep black pool which, fringed 
 with alders and tussocks of grass, covered many acres 
 of ground, a wounded duck started at my feet ; the 
 poor thing could scarcely fly, and with difficulty 
 fluttered along just out of reach of my hand. 
 What I meant to do with it I cannot tell ; but a boy, 
 like a puppy, runs after every living thing that runs 
 away from him. In a moment, shouting to Bill to 
 keep near the edge and cut her ofi" from the water, I 
 was in hot pursuit, dashing over the stumps, tumbling 
 over the tussocks, splashing through the pools, ever 
 on the point of catching the wretched bird, which, 
 with terrified cries, still managed to keep just out of 
 reach. I came to a place where the pool, stretching 
 into a sort of bay, intercepted my further progress, 
 when, to my surprise, after fluttering for a few yards 
 along the water, she took wing, and flew strongly and 
 rapidly away, leaving Bill and myself to stare at 
 
2 24 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 each other in mute amazement. We had had just 
 the same kind of chase after a lapwing while crossing 
 the bleak common which lay between Thorney Wood 
 and the forest as we approached it in the morning, 
 and we agreed that it was a singular coincidence. As 
 we walked round the bay, our attention was attracted 
 by two or three nests, not unlike rooks' nests, but 
 larger, built in a little clump of picturesque Scotch 
 firs. At our approach, some herons, their long legs 
 stretched behind them, and forming a counterpoise to 
 their prominent necks, took wdng, and with wild 
 cries of alarm flew far away. How my heart beat ! 
 This must be the heronry which I had heard and 
 dreamt of, but never hoped to see. A heron's ^gg 
 was the grand desideratum for my collection, and 
 now the great prize seemed within my grasp ! On 
 our examining the trees, however, one, and one only, 
 appeared possible to be climbed, but on this was a 
 nest from which we had seen the old bird depart, so 
 we knew for a certainty there were eggs in it. The 
 tree grew on the bank overhanging the tarn, and 
 leaned over the water at a very considerable angle, 
 the great roots which held it being twisted into the 
 bank like the shrouds of a raking schooner-rigged 
 vessel. There were ho boughs until near the top, and 
 
Birds' -nesting, 225 
 
 the nest was at the extremity o£ one of the lowest of 
 them, but after the first twelve or fifteen feet there 
 were broken spikes sticking out, the remnants of 
 former branches which had been broken by the 
 tempest or by the weight of the snow. Bill wished 
 to venture, but I would not allow it ; the honour of 
 taking a heron's nest was too great to be surrendered. 
 In three seconds my jacket was off, and Bill pushing 
 behind, I had commenced swarming towards the 
 coveted prize. The girth of the tree was considerable, 
 but, as I said, it leant over the water at a great angle ; 
 the bark too was rough, affording finger-hold betwixt 
 its interstices, and the sugar-loaf buttons on my 
 waistcoat, of which, as was the fashion in those days, 
 there was a favourable eruption, rather assisted me. 
 The spikes, though dead, were not rotten, and even- 
 tually I found myself at the base of the branch on 
 which, at the distance of a few feet, the great flat 
 nest was placed. The branch, either naturally, or 
 from the weight placed upon it, bent rather down- 
 wards, and I could see its contents, three green eggs, 
 larger than a crows', and much longer, indeed, so 
 long in proportion to their breadth as to be unlike 
 any other bird's I had ever seen. I suppose a heron 
 requires a long egg wherein to pack its long legs. 
 
 Q 
 
22 6 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 Pausing for a moment to recover my breath and to 
 steady my nerve, I commenced the dangerous process 
 of climbing along the nearly horizontal bough towards 
 the nest. This, as every bird's-nester knows, is a 
 very ticklish and difficult operation. As you look 
 downwards there is nothing betwixt you and the 
 ground to break your fall should an accident happen, 
 and the ground looks such a terrible depth below 
 you ! In this case it was doubly terrifying, for I 
 was immediately over the deep silent pool I have 
 described ; and as I involuntarily cast my eyes down- 
 wards for a second, it seemed as though a fathomless 
 abyss were beneath me, a new sky somewhere in the 
 remotest depths, and a chubby-faced boy suspended 
 in mid-air gazing upwards at me. Closing my eyes 
 for a second, and repressing with some difficulty a 
 feeling of giddiness, I scrambled onwards, fixing 
 them steadily on the goal of my hopes, and striving, 
 though not with entire success, to close them upon 
 all beside. I reached the nest at last ; it was a large, 
 flat structure, composed, Hke a rook's, externally of 
 sticks, and lined almost entirely with wool. It con- 
 tained, as I have said, three eggs, two of which I 
 managed to transfer — wrapped up in my little blue 
 pocket-handkerchief — to that general receptacle of a 
 
Birds^ -^testing. 227 
 
 boy's treasures, my cap, and replaced it carefully on 
 my head, tying the strings beneath my chin. How 
 to carry the other was the question. It was too large 
 for my mouth, and, after some reflection, I put it into 
 my trousers pocket, and prepared to descend from 
 my perilous position. Alas! this was no easy matter; 
 the "facilis descensus" is all very well under certain 
 circumstances, but under existing ones the " descen- 
 sus" was exactly the reverse, and "revocare gradum" 
 was indeed the work. Lying full-length flat upon 
 the bough, and carefully dragging myself backwards, 
 I had got safely over some four or five feet, and 
 was hoping to feel the trunk of the tree I dared not 
 turn my head to look for, when, from the tightness 
 of my trousers, I felt the ^gg in my pocket break 
 with a crunch. An involuntary start threw me off 
 my balance, and in an instant I had swung round 
 beneath the bough, and, unable to retain my hold, 
 found myself traversing the air towards that mock 
 heaven I had contemplated a few seconds before. 
 
 When consciousness returned, I found myself 
 stretched at length on the sunny bank to which the 
 devoted Bill, having rescued me from the pool at the 
 imminent risk of his own life, had dragged me. He 
 was leaning over me, uttering ejaculations of grief 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 and despair, for tbe lad loved me well, and he thought 
 me dead. Possibly some dread of personal con- 
 sequences might obtrude itself, and add intensity to 
 his grief, for human motives are never absolutely 
 pure, but his grief was genuine and extreme. 
 " What'll missus say ? Oh dear ! oh dear? What'll 
 missus say^? Master B., Master B. ! Pray look up, 
 sir ! Oh dear, oh dear ! " and then " da capo." Gra- 
 dually I found strength to comply with his request, 
 and Bill's joy was unbounded when at last I opened 
 my eyes, and gazing dreamingly upon him, asked, 
 " Are the eggs broken ? " The answer that they 
 were all right did more to revive me than any ordinary 
 restoratives, had they been at hand, could have done, 
 and I was soon able, with Bill's assistance, and 
 wrapped in his dry coat — for he had fortunately 
 carried that garment in his hand — to reach the edge 
 of the forest, where he left me to proceed at my 
 leisure, and running on to the Grrange, speedily re- 
 turned with Mr. Stubbs in the dog-cart, who brought 
 Susan with him, and wraps and shawls, and much con- 
 dolence and kind words, and I was taken home and put 
 to bed, from which — for some sort of fever ensued — 
 I did not rise for a month, and then I learnt that, in 
 recognition of the spirited act by which he had saved 
 
Birds' -nesting. 229 
 
 my life, my father had promised to bind Bill appren- 
 tice to any trade he might select. Bill was delighted, 
 for he had always had a soul above cow-boying; Mr. 
 Belt and his wife were grateful, Baby charmed, and 
 I was reconciled to the loss of my playmate by the 
 pleasing intelligence that I was to be sent at once to 
 school. 
 
 Bill, at his own request, was bound 'prentice to 
 Mr. Allonby, the well-known white- and black-smith 
 at Slowton, a master of his craft, whose fame ex- 
 tended many miles beyond the town he lived in. 
 Mr. Allonby was especially great as a lock-smith ; 
 and Bill, who w^as a handy lad, and had a natural 
 turn for practical mechanics, could hardly, I think, 
 have chosen better for himself. Some years elapsed 
 before we met again. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 Mt first school, Ashwell, was kept by a Mr. Payne, 
 
 and well did lie deserve the name, if the infliction of 
 
 pain on others could justify the nomenclature. 
 
 " Severe by rule nor yet by nature mild, 
 He never spared the rod and spoiled the child, 
 But spoiled the rod and never spared the child, 
 And so with holy rule deemed he was reconciled." 
 
 I was flogged continually ; I remember the first time 
 
 was for jumping out of the window of the schoolroom, 
 
 wherein I had been accidentally locked. I broke a 
 
 fall of full sixteen feet by catching at a projecting 
 
 course of bricks, and alighted uninjured on my feet. 
 
 Nowadays I should have been much praised as a 
 
 promising athlete, but old Payne, who, looking out 
 
School Days, 23 j 
 
 of his window, chanced to see me, saw the matter in 
 a different light, and incontinently flogged me. It 
 was a painful process at first, but I soon got use to it. 
 I was flogged for breaking bounds, flogged because 
 my books were stolen, flogged because my cap was 
 lost, or my clothes torn, flogged for not learning 
 lessons beyond my powers, flogged for charging 
 Mother Hardy with stealing my money — a whey-faced 
 old cat ! I say that she appropriated three-and-six- 
 pence out of the five shillings I had so confidently 
 intrusted to her keeping. Mother Hardy may be 
 dead now, or she may be alive, but dead or alive, she 
 stole my three-and-six-pence, though I were to be 
 flogged again for it to-morrow ! I was starved too ; 
 starvation was common enough in those days, even 
 in schools of high character and good repute. School- 
 boys of the present day have little notion what their 
 fathers endured before them. True, we had beef and 
 mutton, mutton and beef, boiled rice puddings, and 
 suet dumplings ; but the meat which was not boiled 
 to a rag was half raw ; and that which w^as neither 
 raw nor overboiled was baked in a close, dirty oven, 
 and had an unpleasant smell and taste. I could not 
 eat it, and I was flogged to mend my appetite, which 
 it entirely failed to do. I volunteered as assistant to 
 
232 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 Harry Hase, the pink and wliite youth who cleaned (?) 
 our knives and forks. Poor lad, he was in a gal- 
 loping consumption, and his appetite completely 
 gone. My wages were the roll and cheese allowed 
 for his supper, and which he could not eat ; I could, 
 and did, but it was found out, and I was flogged, and 
 Harry Hase discharged. 
 
 These were not the pleasantest days of my life ; 
 still I have pleasant recollections in connection with 
 them. I had a bosom friend, Charles Wilson, a lad 
 of the same age and like tastes with myself. He was 
 the son of a baronet, and on that account rather 
 favoured by the tuft-hunting old Payne, though he 
 loved flogging too well to let him ofl" altogether. We 
 had a joint purse, and, distrustful of the Hardy bank 
 of deposit, we invested our capital in the purchase of 
 a pistol, and when we could muster powder and shot, 
 and had managed to escape through the washhouse 
 window, or over the playground wall, we roamed forth 
 in search of small birds, at which we constantly fired; 
 but, so far as I remember, without inflicting any 
 serious damage. A wild hope of shooting higher 
 game was cherished in our bosoms, and we wandered, 
 despite the keepers, through the well-preserved woods 
 of the Duke of Churchland. In our own eyes we 
 
School Days, 233 
 
 were elevated to all the dignity of poachers ; and 
 doubtless the keepers, had they caught us, would 
 have indulged the fancy, and " fooled us to the top of 
 our bent," but we were hard to catch in those days, 
 and kept a sharp look-out. The woods were very 
 beautiful, and abounded in the spring-time with wild 
 snowdrops and lilies of the valley, the latter a flower 
 I have never met with wild elsewhere in England, 
 though in parts of North "Wales it is common. 
 There were lakes in the duke's park, with small 
 islands in them, on which the swans and ducks nested, 
 I have swum across in bitter cold spring weather, and 
 robbed either nest. Snakes, slowworms, and adders 
 were very numerous, and we captured them with as 
 much adroitness and absence of fear as any Indian 
 snake-charmer could have shown. The snakes I 
 would seize wherever I saw them, and, regardless of 
 their twisting round my arm, transfer them to the 
 game-bag, and carry them home. A harmless beast 
 the snake, he possesses but one weapon of defence, 
 and very offensive that is ; he has the power at plea- 
 sure of emitting a fetid and most disgusting odour, 
 which it is almost impossible to wash out or get rid 
 of. Luckily, he only resorts to this as a last ex- 
 tremity, and if properly treated, may be handled with 
 
234 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 perfect impunity. Slowworms we generally killed; 
 why, I cannot say, except that the fact being ascer- 
 tained that a blow with a thin stick disintegrated the 
 creature, and having no capacity for being made a pet 
 of, such blow was usually administered for the sake 
 of realising that, to him and to us, interesting fact. 
 
 With vipers more caution was used: we recognised 
 the venomous beast by the flat head and wicked eye. 
 A forked stick was cut and thrust suddenly over his 
 neck into the ground; thus secured he was teased 
 into biting a bit of cloth, or flannel, which was 
 snatched away until the poison was exhausted or the 
 fangs extracted. I believe both would have grown 
 again, but they never had the chance. Our comrades 
 tolerated the snakes, but there were weird stories of 
 the efiects of viper bites, and they were invariably 
 slain. The snakes, on the other hand, were much 
 petted; they were kept in a white deal box, with 
 plenty of moss, and fed daily with milk.* Some- 
 times a frog was given, but not often, for the frog 
 must be alive, or the creature would not touch it. 
 On such occasions, a single frog was shut up in a box 
 with a single snake, which speedily swallowed the 
 
 * I am by no means certain that they drank it, though at 
 the time I had no doubt about it. 
 
School Days. 235 
 
 helpless, staring, squeaking, struggling batrachian. 
 The disgusting cruelty practised, more especially on 
 Sundays, at the Zoological Grardens, principally for 
 the amusement of ladies (?) and children, of dropping 
 a frog amongst a colony of snakes, each of which 
 seizes a separate portion of the writhing victim, pro- 
 longing its terror and torture for an indefinite time, 
 was abhorrent to our nature.* The snakes, I think, 
 knew us, and would crawl up our jacket-sleeves, and 
 poke their lithe necks out at the collars, twisting 
 round our ears with great apparent satisfaction to 
 themselves. 
 
 There was a hornets' nest, I remember, built at an 
 angle formed by the wooden roof of a shed, where it 
 rested on the paling, the boundary of our playground. 
 
 * Since writing the above I have been made acquainted with 
 another instance of horrible and. useless cruelty constantly 
 practised in these gardens, and which requires only to be known 
 to be put a stop to, by the humane and intelligent managers of 
 that popular institution. Pigeons and sparrows with their quill 
 feathers plucked out, and thereby disabled from flying, are in- 
 troduced to the dens of the python and other snakes. Frogs 
 may or may not feel acutely. I think they do not ; but there 
 is no question about the sensitiveness of these warm-blooded 
 creatures. The stupid rabbit is ignorant or careless of the 
 presence of its deadly enemy, but with the birds it is different ; 
 their agony is intense, and the cruel mutilation they have 
 endured renders them incapable even of flight. Morbid 
 
236 Bohover Forest, 
 
 The other boys were somehow afraid of it. One who 
 had carelessly slammed the door and shaken the fabric 
 had been stung on the head. There was a tradition 
 that five hornets could kill a horse, and, with laudable 
 prudence, my companions gave the nest a wide berth. 
 I had no fear of the hornets ; in fact, in those days, 
 through ignorance, I suppose, I did not know what 
 fear meant ; I feared no creature, bird, beast, or 
 insect, at any rate. My favourite position was on 
 one of the posts which supported the palings, with 
 my head as close to the nest as it well could be, 
 listening to the unintelligible but continuous hum of 
 conversation kept up by the inhabitants within, and 
 watching with deep interest the proceedings of those 
 who went forth on foraging or predatory expeditions. 
 I don't think I learnt much, but I observed a good 
 deal, and some things which I am still unable to 
 
 sentimentality is not at all in my line, and I gladly avoid a 
 description of the suflferings of the victims — sufferings which 
 conduce to no end whatsoever, scientific or otherwise, for what 
 is learned by witnessing a boa-constrictor gorge himself with 
 a half- plucked, agonized pigeon ? Surely stufied specimens of 
 foreign snakes would answer every purpose better even than 
 live ones, for they need not be wrapped in blankets, and if by 
 a simple mechanical contrivance their jaws were made to open 
 occasionally not one visitor in ten thousand would ever find out 
 the difference. 
 
School Days. 237 
 
 account for. How did the nest increase, as it did, 
 from the size of a turnip to that of the largest 
 pumpkin ? The loose outside " papier-mache " shell 
 grew like a vegetable daily, but I never saw a hornet 
 at work outside. The combs, no doubt, were added 
 to and enlarged, and the outer covering grew, and 
 was enlarged proportionally ; but how ? Besides the 
 main entrance there were several external covered 
 ways by which the insects took their departure, but I 
 never saw one that flew straight away either from 
 gate or postern ; they invariably walked, not only 
 over the surface of the nest, but along some two feet 
 of boarding, until they came to an especial angle, 
 whence, with a solemn twang, that is now always 
 associated in my mind with the departure of the 
 spirits through the mouths of the dead companions 
 of the Ancient Mariner, they flew away far and fast 
 in a direct and undeviating career. 
 
 " And every soul it passed me by, 
 Like the whirr of my cross-bow." 
 
 "When they returned, they brought with them food, 
 or buildiDg materials, or water; the first generally 
 consisting of the trunk of a large fly neatly packed, 
 that is, with legs and wings bitten off close to the 
 body ; the second of a pellet of moistened wood ; 
 
238 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 and the third, a clearest drop of dew or water, re- 
 tained between the proboscis and mandibles. Thirsty 
 souls, those bornets ! for half, at least, brought water. 
 In October I witnessed the operation of that strange 
 instinct, inverse "storge," which teaches the Indian 
 squaw in purest love to destroy her female offspring, 
 to save tbe child from the miseries of a squaw life, 
 and tbe wasp and hornet to drag forth their embryo 
 young, rather than expose them to a lingering 
 death from starvation and cold — their assured fate if 
 permitted at that season of the year to arrive at wasp 
 or hornet estate. 
 
 While at Ashwell I had proof of the extraordinary 
 perseverance of that despised animal, the rat. He is 
 in fact one of the most persistent and indefatigable 
 beasts in creation. Whatever he undertakes, be it 
 for good or be it for ill, he goes through with to the 
 end. The one I am now thinking of worked regu- 
 larly, day by day, for more than a year, at a self- 
 imposed task, and eventually completed it, but little 
 to his own gain. 
 
 The hours at second school were from ten to one, 
 and for an hour after that the first class remained 
 " doing " mathematics. Of course there was at this 
 time a great silence, the more observable from the 
 cessation of the previous hum of many voices. 
 
School Days, 239 
 
 In the first quiet hour after Midsummer holidays a 
 rat was heard gnawing at the oaken floor beneath our 
 feet. Crake ! crake ! In vain I endeavoured to fix 
 my mind on the problem before me : " 'From the point 
 A " — crake ! crake ! my soul is absorbed in the well- 
 understood sound, and Avill take in nothing else — 
 " describe the circle B C Z)." Crake ! crake ! crake ! 
 It is of no use — the first problem of Euclid, the key- 
 stone of the arch, is as a thing of nought ; the pro- 
 blem working in my mind is, When will the creature 
 appear ? How long will it take it to gnaw through 
 the time-hardened oaken boards, three inches thick, 
 that form the floor ? A long time, surely ; but it 
 proved ] far longer than I could have imagined. 
 Crake! crake! I attribute my subsequent failure 
 in mathematics at Cambridge to that rat's proceedings. 
 Euclid had no chance against the absorbing interest 
 excited in my mind by the monotonous " crake " of 
 the persevering rodent. 
 
 It was not until the end of the second half-year 
 that a portion of the long yellow teeth appeared 
 above the board, shortly followed by the pinky-white 
 tip of a restless inquiring nose ; but weeks elapsed 
 before the hole was sufficiently enlarged to admit of 
 the passage of the rest of the body. At last the day 
 
240 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 came. No doubt Mus Battus prided himself on the 
 successful result of his labours, and uttered some 
 commonplaces on the beneficial results of perseve- 
 rance. " Now," said he, " I shall bave what I have toiled 
 for — a complete run over as well as under this bard 
 solid floor." Alas for the vanity of rattisb wishes ! 
 By means of a dictionary cover I had long since con- 
 trived a sort of sliding door, whicb worked by a 
 string over the increasing aperture, and the first 
 appearance of the deluded beast was bis last on that 
 or any other stage. Scarcely bad be set foot on tbis 
 new territory than the cover closed over the bole, 
 and be found himself a prisoner at large in tbe long- 
 coveted domain. The bole it had taken months to 
 open was closed in a moment — carefully stopped, 
 and a ferret, tbe property of the groom-gardener, 
 placed upon tbe floor. 
 
 It is always curious and interesting to observe tbe 
 workings of instinct in animals naturally antagonistic 
 to each other ; in none more so than in tbe case of 
 tbe ferret and the rat. 
 
 I should say that Eat, after a few vain attempts to 
 regain bis home, bad taken matters pretty easily. 
 Cantering quietly round tbe room, seeking meanwhile 
 for some outlet, be bad evidently taken in tbe whole 
 
School Days. 241 
 
 situation, and prepared himself for an emergency by 
 retiring to the darkest corner, where he sat hunching 
 up his back, occasionally washing his whiskers, and 
 moving them as well as his nose rapidly and nervously. 
 Although put down at the furthest end of the room, 
 the rat was evidently aware of the presence of his 
 deadly enemy the instant the ferret touched the floor, 
 and at once altered his tactics, taking up a fresh posi- 
 tion with his back to the light, where, availing himself 
 of a slight inequality in the skirting-board, he sat 
 firm and fast. 
 
 " Come one, come all ! This rock shall fly 
 From its firm base as soon as I !" 
 
 The ferret meanwhile had commenced running tlie 
 scent, inch by inch, foot by foot, turning where the 
 rat had turned, pausing where the rat had paused, but 
 ever, with depressed body and nose close to the 
 boards, approaching the spot where, full in vie\v, 
 though in deep shadow, uneasily watching her move- 
 ments, sat the doomed intruder. 
 
 The ferret approaches, and is now within full view 
 of her quarry, which hitherto she has not seen. The 
 rat, springing on all-fours six inches off the ground, 
 utters a shrill cry of mingled terror and defiance, and 
 makes a feint of attack. Now is the time when, 
 
 E 
 
242 Bolsover Forrest. 
 
 certain of its true position, the ferret should rusli in 
 and slay the rat, which, as I have elsewhere said, is 
 no match for her — no, not even for a second ; but few, 
 excepting an old dog-ferret, will do a " deed of such 
 derring-do." The pretty doe now on the floor deems 
 discretion the better part of valour ; and it is curious 
 to see her affected air of ignorance as to the meaning 
 of the squeak and the whereabouts of the utterer. 
 She looks like a bully who, having chased a small boy 
 \vith evil intent, finds himself suddenly confronted by 
 his big brother, xlfter a movement or two of inde- 
 cision she pretends to look round, and snuffs about as 
 thought to recover the scent, and then, crossing to the 
 corner at which she had begun to hunt, takes up the 
 old scent again with affected eagerness. Her owner, 
 wbo feels for her disgrace, catches her up, and an old 
 dog-ferret being, despite my indignant remonstrances, 
 introduced, speedily puts a stop to the poor rat's 
 vapouring. 
 
 I stayed at Ashwell some three years, and then 
 having had really a good deal of Greek and Latin for 
 my ago flogged into me, and with a thorough know- 
 ledge of boot and shoe cleaning, I was transferred to 
 Downham, now one of the largest and best schools in 
 England ; then, although richly endowed, a very small 
 
School Days, 243 
 
 one of some forty boys, of whom two or three went 
 to Cambridge annually, and enjoyed the scholarships 
 which fell to their lot without any great exertion on 
 their own parts. 
 
 Of course during these three years I had been at 
 home for my holidays. Things and persons remained 
 from half to half very much as I had left them. 
 Mr. Belt had grown somewhat older, and transferred 
 more and more of his duties into Sam's willing hands. 
 Sam himself was the pattern of a keeper, active, steady, 
 sober, but of an unsocial disposition, as a keeper must 
 be; he was not a popular character, and few out of his 
 own family cared for him or knew his good qualities. 
 Sam, in short, was not generally liked, but he was a 
 fine, strapping fellow, and found favour in the eyes of 
 Jemima the cook, to whom he paid a weekly visit, 
 w^hen he generally sat or stood by her side in a drearv 
 attitude in the back kitchen some twenty minutes 
 almost without speaking a word. However, though 
 they spoke little, they understood one another. The 
 rather monotonous proceeding was relieved by an occa- 
 sional squeeze on the part of the swain and a coy 
 " Don't " on that of the damsel. It was perfectly 
 understood in the village that Jerry Cant, who had 
 .aspired to the fair hand of /emima, had had his nose 
 
 e2 
 
244 Bohover Forest. 
 
 put out of joint by Sam Belt. Baby was still un- 
 married, but had many admirers, among others the 
 rejected Jerry. Patty, after many inward misgivings, 
 had married the mysterious Charlie Bond, who, it 
 appeared, was turnkey, or " second oilicer," as he 
 styled himself, at the county gaol at Slowton. Bill 
 was going on capitally at Mr. Allonby's, and before I 
 went to Downham I took the opportunity of paying 
 him a visit. I found Bill with a black face, and still 
 blacker hands, sitting in a little detached hole opening 
 out of tbe shop, filing away at a large key of ap- 
 parently delicate workmanship. He greeted me 
 warmly, and despite the colour of his, our hands met 
 in the closest squeeze. He told me he was working 
 at the key of the condemned cell in Slowton Prison, 
 but he had made a mistake, and was, doing it all over 
 again. "You see. Master B.," he said, "I have cut 
 out this little bit which ought to touch the tumbler." 
 " Then it would not act on the lock ?" I said. "Oh 
 yes ! it would," replied Bill, " but it would be a 
 skeleton key, you see. I wouldn't like to show Mr. 
 Allonby a piece of work like that;" and throwing 
 the key down on a heap of old iron by his side, he 
 selected a new piece, and commenced patiently filing 
 awav at it. 
 
CHAPTER YII. 
 
 EATCATCHIN-G. 
 
 Our school days are generally supposed to have been 
 the happiest of our lives, and that might be truly 
 said of mine at Downham. We were allowed much 
 liberty ; in fact, so long as we answered roll-call in 
 the course of the afternoon, we wandered over the 
 country pretty much at our own sweet will. My 
 early acquaintance with the habits of birds and 
 beasts, my skill in the management of dogs and 
 ferrets, acquired under Nat Belt's tuition, and a 
 natural aptitude for such pursuits as boys chiefly 
 affect, placed me at once in a high position among my 
 schoolfellows. I was the leader in all outdoor sports 
 requiring strength and agility, the fox in the paper- 
 
246 Bo hove J' Forest. 
 
 chase, and the captain in the snowballing matches. 
 Above all, my taste for birds'-nesting had full scope. 
 I think that I knew the nest of everj large bird 
 within four miles of Downham. Then I possessed a 
 wonderful breed of ferrets and a couple of rough- 
 mouthed terriers, mother and daughter, rejoicing in 
 the names of Old Yic and Young Vic. I may men- 
 tion a singular circumstance relating to the younger 
 Yic, who, from a propensity to seek me out in school, 
 or church, or other forbidden places, was sentenced to 
 banishment. I gave her to a friend at Slowtou, fully 
 five miles from our abode. On my way home each 
 half-year I passed through the town, and that was all, 
 and yet during several years that I remained at 
 school, Yic never failed to present lierself at the 
 house within twelve hours of my arrival for the 
 holidays. How did she know I was at home ? She 
 never, so far as I could learn, came during the half 
 to inquire. I can give no explanation, but such wa» 
 the fact. 
 
 There was a long-legged, weak-eyed, shambling 
 sort ot a fellow, called Frank Beading, who kept our 
 dogs, and aided and abetted in our forbidden pursuits^ 
 such as ratcatching, rabbit-hunting, and the like. 
 Frank was, I suspect, a poacher, and found it con- 
 
Ratcatchino . 247 
 
 Tenient to have the dogs, which were as much his as 
 ours, kept without expense to himself, and no doubt 
 they were used by night and by day without our 
 knowledge ; at any rate, they were often very stiff 
 and tired when wanted. They became, though, one 
 and all, almost supernaturally knowing. Well do I 
 remember them each one, and their peculiarities : 
 there was old Busy, an ugly mugger's cur, a cross 
 between a bulldog and a pointer, tawny in colour, 
 sulky in temper, but wondrous wise ; there was Old 
 Yic, recorded above, a black and tan terrier with a 
 grey muzzle, and, excepting that she was too long 
 in the leg, really handsome ; she was rather hasty and 
 excitable, but a capital ratter, and fast enough to run 
 a rabbit down. There was Nettle, a white terrier, 
 with no legs to speak of, showing a stain of the turn- 
 spit, who had the remarkable faculty of knowing the 
 footstep of every boy in the school; she boarded at a 
 saddler's, and, though ready to tear the house down 
 at the approach of a strange footstep, would jump 
 from her seat, and hurry to the door to meet any one 
 of the dozen lads who might chance to be sent for 
 her, and accompany him to the trysting place. There 
 was old Pincher and little Pinch er, valuable curs, but, 
 excepting for the fate which befel the former, and 
 
248 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 which I may record hereafter, there was little of 
 interest attached to the character of either. 
 
 Such was our ratting establishment ; but before I 
 left Downham my ideas had become enlarged, and I 
 had set up the prettiest little pack of beagles that 
 ever ran in hopeless pursuit of a hare. Frank 
 Beading was kennel huntsman, feeder, and so on, but 
 I hunted my own hounds in the field ; the pack con- 
 sisted of five, Tippler and Tuneful, Lavish, Lasher, 
 and little Fiddler, a rough nondescript animal, with 
 a hoarse voice like to nothing canine or human that 
 has ever met my ears since. A capital hound, how- 
 ever, was Fiddler, and always led the cry. "We 
 hunted rabbits in the hedgerows, and sometimes a 
 hare, when we could find one ; but the little hounds 
 having, oh one or two occasions, run clean away from 
 us, we obtained a leveret, which was regularly hunted 
 every half-holiday, and when caught replaced in her 
 basket and carried home. The little hounds would 
 hunt her with the greatest eagerness, but coming up 
 to the place where she had lain down, which she 
 generally did after five or ten minutes, they would 
 stretch themselves lazily by her side, and except, 
 perhaps, licking her fur, pay no attention whatever to 
 her, but wait quietly till we came up. I do not think 
 
Ratcatching . 249 
 
 the hare was the least afraid; she ran away, to be 
 sure, and crouched down, as " 'tis her nature to," but 
 when returned to the basket, she instantly began to 
 feed, and so, on the w^hole, enjoyed her life as much, 
 I think, as any other hare. By degrees she grew 
 bigger and stronger, our runs were longer, and event- 
 ually she run us clean out of scent and time, and 
 escaped. I took the pack home in a hamper, and sold 
 them to my uncle, one of the best sportsmen in 
 England, for the first five- pound note it was ever my 
 lot to possess. 
 
 It was little that in those days was thought about 
 High Church and Low Church. Had the clergyman 
 preached in a red coat, hardly less astonishment 
 would have been excited than if he had preached in a 
 white surplice. The rubrics were, however, diligently 
 and anxiously consulted by us to find out the saints' 
 days, on each of which, by ancient prescription, we 
 claimed a whole holiday. One, I think, St. Matthias, 
 falls early in the year, February or March, and we 
 had arranged to celebrate the day by an especial rat- 
 hunt, ^^o little strategic science w^as brought into 
 play on such occasions. Dogs and ferrets were 
 forbiaden ware ; I hardly think they were even 
 knowingly connived at by our worthy doctor, a 
 
250 Bo hover Forrest, 
 
 capital classic and a good matliematician, but as io^no- 
 rant of boy-nature as lie was of that of bird or beast. 
 If be thought at all about a hawk and her ege:, it 
 was to wonder whether the one originally cpme from 
 the other, or the other from the one ; whether the 
 hawk produced the egpf, or the egg produced the 
 hawk, or which or either; there was a Lord Dun- 
 drearyism about the doctor, which prevented his ever 
 running a scent down, or arriving at any conclusion 
 out of Euclid from given premises. He would see 
 the ferrets, for instance, in the bottom study, in which 
 thev were kept, and deduced from seeing them 
 nothing beyond the fact that boys loved pets, and 
 selected very strange ones. Dogs would stray into 
 the court, and he would simply wonder what attrac- 
 tion there could be for the dogs there. He would 
 occasionally visit the home-made nests of hawks or 
 crows, and it never occurred to him that they must- 
 have come from the preserved woods into which we- 
 
 were warned not to enter. When Colonel L , 
 
 master of the hounds, complained of our yelping 
 curs disturbing his best coverts, T suggested to the 
 doctor, who took sweet counsel with me on the occa- 
 sion, that he must refer to the paper-chases, and the 
 doctor, accepting the explanation, looked upon the 
 
RatcatcJiing, 251 
 
 colonel as a harsh, disagreeable sort of a person, aA^erse^ 
 to boys' natural and healthful amusements, and 
 answered his letter in a style tbat eiFectually pre- 
 cluded further correspondence. I have seen a brae 
 of foxes go away from the Grorse where we had been 
 rabbiting the morning before the hounds met there 
 and drew blauk. 
 
 On tbe morning referred to, our arrangements 
 were of the most elaborate kind. Three or four 
 junior boys met us with the dogs at the tollgate, and 
 when my companion and myself joined them with 
 the ferrets in a bag, two trotted on before by way of 
 advance guard. If they came upon the master as 
 they rounded a corner, an agreed signal was to be 
 given, w^hich sent us with our curs scampering across 
 the fields at too great a distance to be recognised ; 
 but no such misadventure occurred, and we got over 
 two miles of road within the first twenty minutes. 
 Warley Wood lay between us and the farm for which 
 we were bound, and through this with one companion 
 I made my way, the other boys taking the dogs by 
 the road. Scarcely had w^e entered when a wild wail 
 was heard overhead, and looking upwards we saw a 
 pair of buzzards flapping their great round wings, 
 and settling ever and again despondingly on an oak 
 
2^2 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 a little in advance. Our hearts beat high, for we 
 knew the nature and habit of birds when their nesting- 
 place is approached, and a buzzard's nest were indeed 
 a prize, equal almost to the well-remembered heron's. 
 Following on the track the bird's seemed to lead us 
 we arrived at the very centre of the wood, and there, 
 on the fork of a huge oak bough, about twenty feet 
 above the bole of one of the largest trees, we saw 
 the coveted nest. The poor stupid birds sat with 
 drooping wing and dejected eye on the dead branch 
 of a neighbouring pine, ever and anon making a half 
 circle in the air and again and again repeating their 
 wailing cry of remonstrance. How to reach the nest 
 was the question. The trunk was twenty feet in cir- 
 cumference, and though by the aid of climbing spurs 
 (iron hooks fastened by straps to our feet) we could 
 readily ascend the trunk, to get round the projecting 
 bole was impossible. We were not to be beaten 
 however in that way. A thin sapling ash grew 
 within the circumference of the mighty oak, and 
 starved and stunted in "the cold shade of aristo- 
 cracy," turned its head as much away from the great 
 oppressor's branches as possible, still almost touching 
 them. Swarming lightly up this, I transferred my- 
 self cautiously to the thin but strong oak bougli, and 
 
Ratcatching. 253 
 
 creeping carefully along soon arrived at the nest ; it 
 contained three eggs of a dirty white colour, more or 
 less blotched with reddish-brown spots ; the nest was 
 large, at least twice as big as a crow's, constructed of 
 great sticks and lined principally witli wool mingled 
 with moss and hair. The eggs liad not yet been sat 
 upon, so there was no larder provided for the hen- 
 bird, as is invariably the case with birds of the order 
 ^aptores, when she is sitting; no rabbit, no rat, no 
 leveret ; indeed it was too early in the year for this 
 last. Lowering the eggs down by means of a string 
 fastened to my cap, I descended myself in a mode 
 which would have astonished a London acrobat; 
 swinging myself in fact from the lowest branch I 
 could find, and dropping harmlessly from a height 
 I am now afraid to think of. Very proud we felt 
 as we rejoined our companions, and speedily found 
 ourselves at the scene of our intended raid upon 
 the rats. 
 
 Taking in at a rapid glance the prominent features 
 of the yard, the plan of campaign was instantly 
 formed, and as speedily carried into execution. Tiie 
 stacks stood two or three deep in a corner of an en- 
 closure formed by a rough edge and a ragged bank on 
 two sides, with a large pond from which the cattle 
 
254 Bo hover Forest, 
 
 drank on tlie third, the fourth facing the farmyard. 
 Nothing could have been better contrived in the way 
 ^f a " preserve " for that noble animal the rat. The 
 bank to breed in, the pond to drink from, the wheat 
 stacks to flee to for food and shelter. As I expected, 
 the bank was perforated with holes, and the runs to- 
 wards the pond were numerous and well-trodden. Eats 
 cannot live without water; thirsty souls, they may 
 be seen in the early morning drinking the dew which 
 hangs upon the barn thatch, or the blades of grass, 
 and when there is no dew they resort to the horse- 
 pond, without which no large colony of rats will ever 
 be found in a stack yard. Stamping in some holes, 
 stopping others with straw, and placing bundles of it 
 in the most frequented runs, the boys and dogs were 
 stationed principally betwixt the stack on which the 
 first attack was to be made and the fence I have 
 described. Each boy was armed with a stick, and 
 each dog had his allotted place, from which neither, 
 under any provocation, was permitted to move. A 
 natural dread of the ferret, indeed of every animal 
 of the weasel tribe, is deeply implanted in the breast 
 of the rat; and though one of the boldest and fiercest 
 of quadrupeds, he flees at the sight or even smell of 
 .a ferret, reckless of any danger which may lie before 
 
Ratcatching. 255 
 
 liim. This dread, like every other feeling implauted 
 "by instinct, wears off by degrees. Instinct is only 
 instinct so long as experience is absent; a latent 
 power of reasoning is present in the higher order of 
 animals, and speedily modifies or supersedes its 
 .promptings. After a few ferretings, rats learn that 
 in avoiding their natural enemies they rush into more 
 certain destruction at the hands of boys and dogs. 
 They argue that "a rat's a rat for a' that;" that they 
 are many and the ferret one, and evenLually philoso- 
 phising with Hamlet — 
 
 "Eatlier bear the ills tliey have, 
 Than fly to others that they know not of," 
 
 they stand manl'ully up against their enemies, and 
 fight "pro aris et focis." From a defensive they 
 soon proceed to wage an offensive war ; and I have 
 seen ferrets driven ignominiously from a too-often 
 hunted stack, the triumphant rat following the crest- 
 fallen invader a yard out of his hole or more. There 
 was no fear of any such contretemps on this occasion ; 
 the farmer was too pennywise to pay a ratcatcher, 
 and the wasteful beasts had made sad havoc with the 
 corn. The fewer ferrets that are put into a stack 
 under such cu'cumstances the better ; there was a 
 possibility of young rats even at this early time of 
 
256 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 the year, and if a ferret find herself in a rat nurserv, 
 she murders all the innocents, sucks their blood, and 
 then enjoys an indefinite sleep in the soft warm nest 
 thev lately occupied. Too many ferrets, moreover, 
 are apt to play at cross purposes, heading the rat 
 occasionally. As a rule, the ferret is not so bold as 
 the rat ; it is an understood thing that the rat is to 
 run away and the ferret is to run after it ; but when 
 by accident or intention a rat is driven into a corner, 
 few ferrets, as I have before shown, dare face him. 
 "Where many ferrets are employed, it frequently 
 happens that a rat escaping from one runs straight 
 into the jaws of another. There is no chance or 
 hope for him then ; a rat may fight, a rat may bite, 
 but the tremendous strength of the ferret, especially 
 in the neck and jaw, and his numerous teeth, sharp 
 as needles, give him an instant and undoubted victory ; 
 the rat seized close behind the ear appears paralysed. 
 It doubles up in a sulky mass, and dies, almost with- 
 out a squeak ; the ferrets join in a grumbling meal, 
 and as a general rule lie down to sleep as regardless 
 of their waiting owner as is a fashionable lady of her 
 coachman and horses left out in the cold at a ball. 
 
 Two ferrets, then, are put into the stack on the 
 opposite side from the bank ; all is hushed and still — 
 
Ratcatching. 257 
 
 Old Yic at one corner, Busy at the other, attendant 
 boys immediately behind them ; young Vic, not yet 
 thoroughly broken, is held in a string, and little 
 Pincher sits justs behind, and out of sight of a well- 
 used side run; old Pincher, who understands more 
 about it than any other there, biped or quadruped, 
 and has besides a will of his own, takes his station 
 on the bank. A solemn pause ensues. "What ails 
 old Yic ? A slight tremor passes through her frame, 
 her hackles bristle, and she seems to sit as it were on 
 the tip of her toes, her eyes glisten, her head is 
 turned slightly, and one ear is bent downwards. A 
 half-grown rat rushes out, and in a succession of 
 rapid jumps makes for the bank. Vic moves not till 
 it is well clear of the stack, and then at a bound she 
 seizes it ; a snap, a squeak, and all is over ; there is 
 no shaking — dogs shake rats because they are afraid 
 of their biting. No dog of ours, excepting perhaps 
 little Pincher, whose small size excused him, or young 
 Vic, whose education was not yet complete, would 
 shake a rat ; a snap, a crunch, and the rat was dead. 
 Vic could hardly turn round before another and 
 another had bolted; one was killed with a blow of 
 the stick, the other Busy solemnly chopped and 
 ^dropped, and then half-a-dozen of all ages rushed 
 
258 Bohover Forest. 
 
 towards the bauk. Pinclier was in his glory. A 
 truculent animal, he accompanied us not so much for 
 love of sport as that of killiug; he spared the ferrets 
 because they ministered to his slayiog propensities, 
 but he killed every other living thing. He scarcely 
 ow^ned us masters, but followed to share in the 
 carnage we provided. Pincher excelled himself that 
 day ; he had calculated, as we had, that the rats 
 driven from the stack would seek their summer resi- 
 dences in the bank, and seeing their holes stuffed 
 with straw he knew that the bewildered beasts would 
 pause at the obstructed entrance before seeking a 
 safer place of refuge. Nor was he disappointed ; 
 Pincher had the savage luxury of killing at least a 
 dozen rats to his own tooth. Hearing a rustling 
 above my head, I looked up and saw a rat w^iich in 
 its haste had lost its footing, rolling down the steep 
 thatch. The creatures had formed zigzag covered 
 ways just inside the rough straw at the end of the 
 stack, by which they had reached the roof, and one of 
 the ferrets following, was driving them pell-mell from 
 their lofty but untenable citadel. 
 
 I know nut how many rats we had killed ; I think 
 forty, but the day wore on, and now to catch our 
 ferrets, and home before roll-call. Luckily there 
 
Ratcaf citing, 259 
 
 were no young rats ; the season had been miserably 
 cold and backward ; our ferrets were singularly tame 
 and well- trained. One rolled down the thatch, and 
 fell unharmed ; the other came out, and being pre- 
 sented with a dead rat, seized hold, and allowed itself 
 to be caught at once. Caution must always be used 
 in handling ferrets; the pretty, playful little animal, 
 fed on bread and milk, which will roll and dance like 
 a kitten, take your finger innocently in its mouth 
 when you tickle it, lick your hand and crouch down 
 for a caress, is, when its destroying instinct is 
 awakened, the "amor dapis aique sanguinis" aroused, 
 a different creature altogether, and must, I repeat, be 
 handled carefully, for the bite of a ferret is no joke. 
 Wear no glove, never make a snatch at him, let him 
 get well out of the hole, then seize him quickly, 
 firmly, and tenderly by the neck and shoulder, your 
 forefinger between the head and the right foreleg, 
 your thumb behind the left foreleg, and your other 
 fingers opposite ; keep a firm but gentle grasp ; if 
 you are not rough, the ferret will not even struggle, 
 but resign herself with apparent indifference to be 
 returned to the bag, or put to another hole, Avhich, if 
 she refuse to enter, you may be quite sure does not 
 contain a rat. 
 
 s 2 
 
26o Bolsover Forest. 
 
 Having received tlie fiirmer's grateful acknowledg- 
 Dients, wliieli, I fear, as far as lie was personally con- 
 cerned, we liardlj deserved, we started, liigldy elated 
 with our success, on our return. Our pack melted 
 away by degrees : Pinclier, tbe misanthrope, had 
 trotted home without leave, asked or given, the 
 moment the ferrets were taken up ; the others, with 
 more or less courtesy, departed to their several 
 kennels, as they were taught to do on approaching 
 the outskirts of the town. We marched with inno- 
 cent faces and buoyant hearts to our respective 
 studies, where, the ferrets having been safely stowed 
 away, with two or three young rats for a treat, I sat 
 for at least an hour gloating over my newly-acquired 
 egg-treasures. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE BADGEK. 
 
 " There's a precious game afoot, Master B., down by 
 "Warley Wood, some morning early when you can 
 get out," said Frank Beading to me one day. 
 
 " What's that, Frank ? " 
 
 " Why, Master B., there's an old brock has ken- 
 nelled there, and we're going to dig him out. You 
 shall see him bolted, if you like." 
 
 " What is a brock, Frank ? " 
 
 " A brock ! why, a badger, to be sure. You've 
 never seen a badger-bait, I dare say ? " I never h.ad ; 
 but I have since, and a more disgusting exhibition of 
 brutality I can hardly conceive. The wretched 
 animal, naturally quiet, harmless, and inoffensive, is 
 
262 Bo hover Forest, 
 
 placed in an artificial box or burrow of some twelve 
 or fifteen feet ; at the end tlie owner of the ill-used 
 beast generally constructs a chamber at right angles, 
 .sitting in which the badger has an advantage over 
 the dogs who are sent in to " draw " him, that is, to 
 seize him by the scruff" of his neck, and drag him out 
 into the open air. A strong, determined bull-terrier 
 will do this pretty readily, but while the quarry is 
 fresh and strong, by no means with impunity; the 
 badger's teeth are of the sharpest, his power of jaw 
 considerable, the looseness of the skin about the 
 neck enables him to turn his head with the greatest 
 ease and activity, and his usual mode of defence is to 
 tuck his nose between his fore paws, and, when 
 seized by the only projecting part, his neck, to bite 
 right and left at the legs and through the neck of the 
 attacking dog. The badger is a plucky, enduring 
 beast, too, and will sustain the attacks of many dogs 
 before he succumb ; but the cruelty and absence of 
 any real sporting feeling amongst his persecutors in- 
 duces them to run dog after dog at him, until his 
 spirit is cowed, and the veriest cur will draw him, as 
 he might an old sheep, without meeting with any- 
 thing beyond a passive resistance. 
 
 However, I was charmed at the prospect of the 
 
The Badger. 263 
 
 adventure, and agreed to meet Prank at five o'clock 
 the next morning, at the old sand-pits by Warley 
 Wood. Accordingly, at about four I was out of bed 
 and dressed ; slipping between the bars of our bed- 
 room window, — I think they were not more than six 
 inches apart, — I dropped fearlessly to the ground, 
 and patting the head of old Don, the pointer watch- 
 dog, on the same principle as that on which fair 
 Margaret caressed 
 
 " the shaggy bloodhound 
 Lest his baymg should waken the castle round," 
 
 I stepped lightly on his huge kennel, and, springing 
 from it, caught the coping of the wall, to the top of 
 w^hich I had no difficulty in raising myself. A run 
 of two miles brought me to the sand-hills, and there 
 I found Frank Beading and another man, whose 
 name I afterwards learnt was Guy Drake, covered 
 with sand, and working with all their might at a 
 huge hole they had excavated in the bank. " You're 
 just in time, Maste ' B.," said Erank ; " we stopped 
 him in last night, and Guy and I have been working 
 hard at it, off and on, since two o'clock this morning. 
 Guy slept over the hole, he did." The man referred 
 to, a sulky-looking fellow, with an unprepossessing 
 
264 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 countenance, made me a clumsy salute, and pro- 
 ceeded with his work. Pincher lay coiled up on his 
 master's coat, which, with Gruy's, and a large sack, 
 lay upon the bank. It was a picturesque spot alto- 
 gether. Some tall Scotch firs grew on the very edge 
 of the bank into which the men were boring, and 
 which had doubtless been formed years before by the 
 removal of sand for agricultural or other purposes ; 
 the ground was in some places sloping, and clothed 
 with brambles ; in others, seamed with pits and 
 holes, many full of water, and overhung by alders, 
 sallows, aud other trees which rejoice in wet, un- 
 drained soil. 
 
 " We shall have him directly. Master B. ; run a 
 willow stick round the mouth o£ the sack to keep it 
 open, and we'll try and get him to bolt into it." I 
 had hardly done this, when a mass of sand fell, half 
 burying Gruy Drake, and as he floundered out, the 
 object of our pursuit appeared too, rushing at full 
 speed towards the rough bank immediately behind 
 us. Excited beyond measure at the appearance of 
 the beast, and utterly regardless of danger, I rushed 
 at him, and as he was gaining the friendly shelter of 
 the bushes, seized him by the hind-leg. Fortunately 
 for me, he was half through the meuse, and before he 
 
The Badger. 265 
 
 could turn Pincher had dashed forward, and seizing 
 the badger by his throat, effectually diverted his 
 attention. The two rolled over, jBghting and strug- 
 gling in deadly hate for some seconds before the men 
 could separate them, but Gruy, seizing the badger by 
 his tail, and Frank, at no little risk, pinching the 
 dog's throat, this was effected, and Gruy Drake held 
 the clumsy, writhing animal, unable to turn more 
 than his head upwards, at arm's length by his 
 tail. 
 
 " Put the sack down in the run, Master B. !" cried 
 Frank, who had enough to do holding the dog, — 
 " put the sack in the run, sir ! " and I did so. The 
 other man then putting the badger on the ground, 
 the animal rushed blindly forward into the sack, tbe 
 mouth of which was instantly closed and securely 
 fastened. 
 
 " Well done. Master B. ! " said Guy Drake,— 
 " that was about the pluckiest thing T ever saw done. 
 He'd have got away if it hadn't been for you ! Nat 
 Belt would have been pleased to see that, sir, he 
 would." 
 
 " Why, what do you know about Nat Belt, or me 
 either, if you come to that ? " 
 
 "Bless you, Master B., I live at Slowton when 
 
266 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 I'm at home, and I've beeu about your father's 
 ^oods now, and again." 
 
 " Did you come to the lodge, then ? " 
 
 "Not exactly; it might not have been convenient," 
 said my acquaintance, rather dryly. " But I know 
 Kat Eelt, and Nat Belt knows me. Good-morning, 
 sir." 
 
 " Good-morning ; good-bye, Erank. I'll come and 
 see the badger to-morrow." 
 
 " By the bye," said Frank, as he was turning 
 ^way, "there's a kite's nest in Stockbrook Wood. 
 I've seen the old cock bird sailing about for some 
 time past." 
 
 " "Whereabouts is it, Frank ? " said I eagerly. 
 
 " Well, I can't say exactly, but it's sure to be 
 pretty near the middle of the wood, and it's not so 
 small but you'll see it without glasses." And so 
 saying, Erank and his companion jumped into a 
 small tax-cart, to which a rough wiry pony was at- 
 tached, and rattled away with their captive at a good 
 pace. On the back of the cart was painted " Guy 
 Drake, Slowton, Licensed Hawker and Dealer in 
 Game." It occurred to me at once that there might 
 be very sufficient reasons for its owner declining to 
 perform the courtesy of a personal call upon Nat 
 
The Badger, 267 
 
 Belt, and I could not but fancy that his absence 
 from home might have something to do with some 
 irregular proceedings with respect to the purchase 
 or sale of game. However, that was a passing 
 thought, and my mind, as I hurried home, was fully 
 occupied with the thoughts of the late successful 
 capture, the doubt whether I should get home undis- 
 covered, and the prospect of the crowning glory of 
 bird's-nesting — the acquisition of a kite's ^gg. 
 
 Two days afterwards, I may here say, I went with 
 a companion to Stockbrook Wood, discovered the 
 nest in the part indicated, and climbed the tree, an 
 oak, without difficulty. The nest was placed in the 
 main fork, a huge structure, as much larger than the 
 buzzard's as the buzzard's is larger than the crow's. 
 It must have been nearly five feet in diameter. I 
 could have lain down in it safely. It was almost as 
 fiat as a table, and I think lined principally with 
 moss and cow-hair, but I am not sure ; it is a long 
 time ago, and I wish I had taken more accurate note. 
 " Non cuivis contingit." It is not one man in a 
 million who has taken a kite's nest, and very few 
 have even seen the bird. The nest contained two 
 young birds, apparently just hatched, and one Qgg, 
 which I at first thought was addled, but on examina- 
 
268 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 tion found it cracked from end to end, with a hole as 
 big as my little finger on the lower part. The 
 young bird, in fact, was in the act of liberating itself 
 from the shell. I gently aidod its efforts, and, 
 strange as it may appear, I reared this as well as its 
 elder brothers to kite's estate, and for a long time 
 they were to me a source of unceasing interest. 
 The eg^ was almost white, a dirty white, with round 
 reddish blotches like the buzzard's, but larger. On 
 the side of the nest lay two young rabbits, two rats^ 
 and some bird, I forget what, all fresh, but headless. 
 Besides these substantial tokens of his affection, the 
 old cock bird had brought, to gladden the heart of 
 his sitting partner, a long tendril of early woodbine, 
 the soft green leaf of which was just bursting forth 
 under the influence of the early spring sun. Of 
 course, this may have been accidental, but the ten- 
 dril was there ; and in the only other kite's nest I 
 ever had the good fortune to take (two years later) 
 I found the very same thing. The hen-bird was sit- 
 ting, and beside her were headless rabbits and rats, 
 and a long wreath of the early woodbine.* While I 
 was taking the nest, the old birds flew wildly above 
 
 * I cannot but think it was a delicate attention on tlie part 
 of kite pere. He had " found out a gift for his lovu.'' 
 
The Badger, 269 
 
 •me in great circles, uttering tlieir shrill whistling 
 cry, but never approaching or settling, as the buz- 
 zards did, on the neighbouring trees ; their cry was 
 one more of remonstrance and indignation than of 
 pitiful, wailing complaint such as the buzzards' 
 under similar circumstances. But I have never seen 
 any bird fight for its eggs or young,* except, per- 
 haps, the little blue-tit, who will sit in his hole, puff 
 himself out, hiss like a snake, and peck at the intru- 
 sive finger in the most spirited manner, the hen 
 partridge, and the carrion-crow, a pair of whom once 
 drove me ignominiously from their nursery. Their 
 nest was situate, as the crow's invariably is, on the 
 fork of the bough, but the fork w^as at the extremity 
 of the bough, and it was a long dangerous climb to 
 reach it. Four half-fledged younglings were in it. 
 They had just arrived at an age to be interesting and 
 very dear to their parents ; and the bold birds deter- 
 mined not to lose them without a struggle. As I 
 crawled along the horizontal bough at a giddy 
 height, the sharp-billed creatures continually dashed 
 
 * Yarrell says, " The nest (of tlie kite) is vigorously de- 
 fended. A boy who climbed to one had a hole pecked in his 
 hat, and his hand severely wounded before he could drive the 
 old bird away." Yarrell never took a kite's nest — ^moreover, 
 kites don't "peck." 
 
270 Bohover Forest. 
 
 at me, uttering, as their wings almost touclied my 
 cheek, a lioarse, ominous croak, then settling on a 
 brancli a few feet distant, reiterated the tale of their 
 wrongs, and encouraged each other to renewed re- 
 sistance. So fierce were they, and so precarious my 
 hold on the unsteady bough, that my humane feel- 
 ings came out unusually strong, and, like the public 
 with the cabmen, when the latter had given evidence 
 of their power of annoyance, I determined that the 
 birds' remonstrances were reasonable, and that it 
 would be unfair and useless to take their young. 
 " I think," said I to Ered Haylock, who waited 
 below, " it would be a pity to take them ; they're 
 not worth having, and we've plenty of birds." Ca- 
 roke ! caroke! said the old birds, approvingly. 
 " Never niind, throw 'em down," said Fred. *' I 
 thmk I won't," said I, looking at the old crows, and 
 half turning round; "it would be so cruel." And 
 the old birds again unanimously expressed their 
 approval of the sentiment. Finally, I descended the 
 tree, leaving the old birds to rejoice with their 
 rescued little ones, and to exult over the great moral 
 victory they had obtained. But I am forgetting my 
 kites. 1 took them home, kept them warm, and fed 
 them with pieces of such young birds and young 
 
The Badger. 271 
 
 quadrupeds as I could obtain. There are no birds, 
 as I think I have said, so easily reared as kites and 
 hawks. The food presented to them is, in fact, 
 identically the same with that which would be sup- 
 plied by the parent birds ; they require but a suf- 
 ficiency of it and warmth : with those requisites, and 
 luck, success is certain. While youug, they are 
 covered all over with white down, but have not a 
 feather; the beak and eyes are of disproportionate 
 size, and the thigh bone elevated above the back. 
 They are unable to stand on their feet for at least 
 six weeks, but squat upon their haunches, and alto- 
 gether present a singular and most uncouth appear- 
 ance. Their natural instincts are developed at the 
 earliest stage of their existence. The bird I had 
 liberated from the egg the very next day would open 
 its beak to receive a morsel of flesh, but take no 
 notice of a proff'ered piece of bread, and, what is 
 more strange, while a dog might smell at it, and in 
 fact touch it with his nose without causing the least 
 alarm, the presence, even at some distance, of a cat 
 or a ferret would excite the strongest manifestations 
 of terror and hatred. The little creature, unable to 
 stand, would throw itself on its side, clutch with its 
 impotent claws, and open its soft beak, as thougli it 
 
27.2 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 required only the power to tear its acknowledged 
 enemy to pieces. Why this instinctive hatred 
 should exist between the cat and weasel tribes on 
 the one side, and the hawk tribe on the other, I 
 cannot say, but I have repeatedly witnessed it. 
 
 On visiting Frank Beading the morning after the 
 badger hunt, I found him smoking his pipe with a 
 very lugubrious expression of countenance ; his little 
 pug nose worked convulsively, and his watery eyes 
 were unusually suffused. " Pincher's dead ! " said he, 
 mournfully, in reply to my inquiring look. " Poor 
 old Pincher's dead ! " " Bless me. Prank ! " cried I, 
 " how did that happen r " " Well, sir ! he was killed, 
 murdered outright by that owdacious badger out 
 yonder," pointing to a large tub in the corner of 
 of the yard. " What ! " said I, " did the badger get 
 out of his tub and worry poor Pincher ? " " No, sir, 
 not that exactly, but Pincher, you see, wasn't alto- 
 gether a nice-tempered dog." I admitted that sweet 
 temper was not Pincher's weak point. 
 
 " He wasn't a forgiving sort of dog, you see, 
 Master B., and he was badly punished down in the 
 sand-pits yonder. Well, he couldn't forget it all day. 
 He was oneasy like, going in and out, growling to 
 hisself. I couldn't tell what was up with the old 
 
The Badger. 273 
 
 dogj but at niglit, after he was chained up, lie 
 managed to slip the collar over his ears, jumped atop 
 of the barrel, and scratched and bit away the cover- 
 ing, and jumped down, as I suppose, to have it out 
 with the badger." *' That looks like Pincher's mur- 
 dering the badger, doesn't it, Frank ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but the badger murdered him. I found 
 him in the moruiug terribly bitten about the head 
 and legs, quite dead in the barrel, and that nasty 
 varmint curled up asleep or shamming. Drat him ; 
 I shall never see Pincher's like again ! " 
 
 " He was a sulky, bad-tempered dog, though, 
 Frank," said I. " Ah ! Master B., you only saw him 
 out of doors, on business like. Bless you, when we 
 went out a poa — ferreting,! mean, he wouldn't follow 
 me nearer than a hundred yards, and if I turned back, 
 he wouldn't let on to know me. He ran home by 
 hisself, too ; but at night, when he was left indoors, 
 you should just have seed how he jumped about, and 
 on to my lap, or Betsy's there, and be just as kind- 
 like as a lap-dog." Betsy, Frank's black-eyed sister, 
 confirmed this account of poor Pincher's domestic 
 qualities, and I was bound to throw no discredit on 
 their statements ; but I could not concur in Frank's 
 notion that the badger had murdered Pincher. 
 
274 
 
 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 I could run on for pages with old recollections of 
 my Downham pursuits and adventures, but, interest- 
 ing as they might be to myself or an old schoolfellow 
 my readers might weary of them. 
 
 " With our school days we part." 
 I was to return home and have a year's private 
 coaching before entering the university ; and in due 
 time, taking with me a menagerie of dogs, ferrets, 
 kites, hawks, and owls, I arrived at the paternal 
 mansion, and was warmly greeted by every soul in it, 
 from the old squire to the cowboy, who filled the 
 place of my early friend, Bill Belt. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FEN-SHOOTING. 
 
 Theee is no shooting which to my mind equals fen- 
 shooting, and that sport we, under Belt's able guid- 
 ance, enjoyed to perfection in the holidays. Our 
 home lay on the slope of the long ridge of hills 
 which, running through the middle of England, 
 bounds the vast swamp that under the name of fen- 
 land stretches from the ocean westward for well-nigh 
 a hundred miles. The fens in those day presented 
 a very different appearance from that which they 
 present now ; and the passenger by a Great Northern 
 train traversing fertile fields and green pastures at 
 the rate of forty miles an hour can hardly picture to 
 his imagination the black, boundless flat, houseless 
 
 T 2 
 
276 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 and treeless, which then presented itself to view. 
 Except a few dilapidated windmills — I mean mills 
 moved by the wind for the purpose of raising the 
 accumulated water from one dead level to another 
 scarcely more elevated — and a few scattered turf- 
 stacks, no object higher than a bulrush rose between 
 the eye and the horizon. In the centre of this dreary 
 expanse lay a stagnant lake or mere, as it was called, 
 well stocked with coarse fish, the haunt of unnum- 
 bered wild-fowl. 
 
 Of the real extent of these fens I have no concep- 
 tion ; in my boyish imagination they were boundless. 
 They must have extended over very many thousand 
 acres; but except on the outskirts there were literally 
 no inhabitants. A few hard-working, self-denying 
 men, fever-stricken one-half the year, and palsied with 
 ague the other half, waged war with Nature under 
 the name of fen-farmers. Gangs of labourers in 
 black boots and red shirts, called '* bankers," the 
 originals of that great institution the "navvies," 
 worked in them by day, but retreated at night to 
 sleep in the villages and towns nearest to their work. 
 Like the backwoodsmen of America, the fen-farmers 
 were the precursors of civilised agriculturists. In- 
 stead of fences their lands were divided by dikes. 
 
Fen- Shooting. 277 
 
 eight, twelve, or sixteen feet in width, cut at right 
 angles to each other, and for the most part full to the 
 brim of stagnant water. The rents were low, and it 
 is difficult to understand how any could be paid; 
 here and there a field — if the term can in any way be 
 applied to the swampy, ditch-divided parallelogram — 
 was pared, and during the hot weather burned, 
 manured, and planted with potatoes ; the scanty crop 
 was. followed by one of rape, after which came oats ; 
 a slow and unremunerative process, and the ultimate 
 result always doubtful. Animal life, as distinguished 
 from human, and vegetable life distinct from cereals, 
 flourished luxuriantly ; wild birds of rarest types, 
 strange caterpillars, gorgeous butterflies, beetles of 
 many colours, especially that pest of farmers, the 
 wireworm. Sedge, rush and reed, and sweet-smell- 
 ing aromatic shrubs abounded. After three years' 
 work the crop was constantly destroyed by the in- 
 sects above named, or when just ready for the sickle 
 carried away bodily, torn up by a hurricane from the 
 light, dry, spongy soil, on which its hold was so 
 insecure. The burning had a singular effect ; for 
 months after it had been lighted the fire would creep 
 along the ground, leaving a white impalpable ash like 
 .snow some inches deep on the surface; a red coal 
 
278 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 beneath that burned the soles from your boots if in- 
 cautiously you trod upon it — it was dangerous work 
 traversing those white fields, 
 
 " Per ignes 
 Suppositos cineri doloso." 
 
 The track of the smallest bird or beast was plainly 
 visible ; it was comparatively safe to follow the latter. 
 
 We were four miles from, these fens, and there was 
 no road. Our expeditions thither were necessarily 
 made on horseback. The stud, though neither ex- 
 tensive nor valuable, was generally sufficient for the 
 purpose, at least during the holidays, when the 
 butcher's spare pony and the innkeeper's rest post- 
 horse were pressed into the service. Besides, we 
 were not proud, and if, as generally happened, there 
 were more riders than horses, the long-backed ones 
 among the latter were accommodated with two of the 
 former — an arrangement to which the unreasonable 
 brutes generally offered a m ost determined resistance 
 
 Great was the excitement of starting. When two 
 men ride on one horse one must ride behind, and as 
 the foremost horseman had the advantage of a saddle, 
 while his companion sat on the hard bare backbone of 
 the horse, the seat of honour was warmly contested. 
 
Fen- Shooting, 279 
 
 That point settled between the bipeds, the quadru- 
 peds took up their share of the controversy, and by a 
 series of violent kicks frequently deposited the occu- 
 pier of the saddle on the earth, and seated his com- 
 panion in his place, which he of course retained. 
 Kicking with a double load is not a game to be carried 
 on for any length of time, and a few minutes generally 
 sufficed to start the whole party, with guns, game- 
 bags, commissariat, and munitions, fairly on their way, 
 We were not first-class horsemen in those days, but 
 I still think there are many crack riders in the shires 
 whose nerves would have been shaken had they sat, 
 gun in hand, on a raw-boned, bare-backed steed, 
 driven at best pace through, if not over, some ugly 
 bullfinch, with perhaps a yawning ditch on the other 
 side. 
 
 Arrived at the fens, a friendly farmer, one Dale, 
 put up our reeking steeds in his ample barn and 
 supplied them liberally with the dried sedge and 
 rushes which his farm horses were fain to consume as 
 hay. Our better-fed brutes turned up their noses at 
 such fare, but were glad enough of it before the long 
 day was done. 
 
 Passing through the little oasis which constitutes 
 our friend Mr. Dale's farmyard, we find ourselves at 
 
28o Bolsover Forest, 
 
 once on the border — the brink I sbould say — of tbe 
 deep fen, " the world before us," a moist, eerie, un- 
 finislied-looking world, such as Professor Buckland 
 imaged forth in the frontispiece to his pre- Adamite 
 treatise. 
 
 A narrow plank laid across a twelve-foot drain is 
 cautiously traversed in single file. 
 
 As we touch the opposite bank a jack-snipe, rising 
 at our feet, is hastily fired at by two of our party, and 
 being neither injured nor apparently alarmed, drops 
 behind a bunch of rushes some fifty paces distant. 
 A second " more advised aim " is successful, and 
 picking up the puny delicate bird, we proceed on our 
 way rejoicing. 
 
 I should have said that our leaping-pole, without 
 the aid of which the most active of fen-shooters, 
 and we were of them, could not have proceeded a 
 quarter of a mile, had been sent forward on the back 
 of an ancient donkey, under the charge of G-eorge 
 Kilderkin, a lank, active youth, born with an intense 
 love of sport and bred a turf-cutter. 
 
 "We proceed in line ; Search, a steady old water- 
 proof setter, a capital retriever, trotting slowly ahead, 
 staunch, steady, and impassive, seldom hunting, never 
 hurrying, but rarely missing a bird. 
 
Fen-Shooting. 281 
 
 Game, properly so termed, is scarce, but we find 
 plenty to shoot or shoot at, and the uncertainty of 
 what may be the next object of our aim, with the 
 wild and almost dangerous character of the ground 
 traversed, gives additional excitement to the sport. 
 There is water everywhere, and the form of a hare 
 which splashes up at our feet is instantly filled, as 
 though she had sat in a slipper.bath. The black 
 liquid mud churned up from her feet is spurned 
 yards behind her as she runs, and she presents the 
 spectacle of " a moist, unpleasant body " as George 
 Kilderkin, rushing forward, picks her out of the 
 puddle into which I have rolled her. A brace of blue 
 rock-pigeons, which may have travelled forty miles 
 that morning to feed iu the fens, offer a capital right- 
 and-left shot. A hen-harrier, beating his hunting 
 ground with the regularity of a well-trained setter, is 
 fired at and missed. 
 
 We are now stopped by one of the larger drains, 
 cut originally sixteen feet wide, requiring, with its 
 rotten banks, a clear jump of at least eighteen ; it is 
 full to the brim, " a sluggish w^ater, black as ink." 
 My gun is handed to Kilderkin, who places the pole 
 in my hands. Sounding with the shoe at its foot, I 
 find something like a firm bottom about three feet 
 
282 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 from the bank, and advancing my right hand to 
 within a few inches from the top, my left firmly 
 grasping the pole below, with a bounding spring 
 I pass lightly through the air, experiencing as I do 
 so the delightful feeling which may be supposed to 
 accompany the act of flying, and settle like a bird 
 on the opposite bank. Thrusting the pole back,. 
 I am ready to catch the gun, which G-eorge holds- 
 poised in readiness, the butt resting on his right 
 hand, the barrel midway on his left. It is deftly- 
 thrown and lightly caught ; that of my companion; 
 follows, and then comes his turn to jump. He is^ 
 rather a young hand and nervous ; his spring i& 
 insufficient, and for a moment the pole poises at the 
 perpendicular ; it rights, however, and narrowly 
 escaping a complete ducking he lands with a splash 
 in two feet of water, out of which he is instantly* 
 dragged. 
 
 We are now in the true snipe ground; the fens 
 are in capital order, wet — not too wet — and there 
 has been a bright moon for some nights past. We 
 are full of hope and anticipation. The wind, which is 
 tolerably high, is in our back, and our old dog, 
 though it gives him extra trouble, does not object,^ 
 for he knows that snipe will lie better, and, always. 
 
Fen- Shooting, 283 
 
 rising up wind, present after the first twist a fairer 
 mark. We have hardly proceeded twenty yards 
 when a harsh squeak with a whirr of wings dis- 
 proportioned to the size of the bird is heard, and 
 waiting until his first eccentric and rapid move- 
 ments are over, we drop him cleverly. My com- 
 panion does the same by a second — a third, a fourth 
 rises as we proceed; some are missed, some killed, 
 but we have bagged three couple before we leave- 
 that splash, and face another ditch of greater width 
 and still more impracticable character than the last. 
 We get safely to the other side at the expense 
 of a slight wetting, and find ourselves in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Fowl Mere, a noted resort of wild 
 birds of all kinds. It is too wet for snipe, for that 
 bird, though it loves moist ground, must have dry 
 places to rest on and bog to bore in, not too saturated 
 to contain the worms which constitute its favourite 
 food. 
 
 A brace of wild ducks which have been put up by 
 a turf-barge on the mere, at this moment pass rapidly 
 at a great height over our heads j we watch their 
 flight with longing eyes, and are rewarded by seeing 
 them curl round and drop with a splash on to a little 
 tarn ahead. Meantime Search is poking after some- 
 
284 Bohover Forest. 
 
 thing at the bottom of the ditch — he has long held 
 himself absolved from all conventionalities — squat- 
 tering through the liquid mud and water, and at times 
 dipping his sagacious old nose actually into it. "We 
 think he smells a rat, maybe a moorhen, or possibly 
 a jack-snipe, at any rate we know that the wise dog 
 will wait for us if there is anything worth waiting for, 
 and leaving him to settle to his point we proceed 
 with rapid but stealthy steps to stalk the ducks. 
 
 Wild ducks are by no means difficult of approach 
 if you keep out of their sight ; once mark ducks under 
 a bank, and it is your own fault if you do not get 
 a shot. The mallard rises at an easy distance, and 
 falls to my companion's gun. In the excitement of 
 the moment (for a duck is a much-coveted prize), I 
 miss his companion with both barrels, but she is not 
 destined to escape. At this moment a rush of wings 
 is heard overhead, and a falcon, probably a gos-hawk, 
 dashes at her, and within a distance of some two 
 hundred yards, regardless of our presence, strikes his 
 quarry, which falls amid a shower of feathers lifeless 
 to the ground. The hawk, like a skater who has 
 passed the ball at hockey, wheels round as speedily as 
 his rapid course admits of, but too late to intercept 
 the dead duck before it touches the earth, and rushing 
 
Fen- Shooting, 285 
 
 in with wild shouts, we secure the prey the bold 
 bird had so gallantly struck down. We find a streak 
 down the back of the duck where the hinder talons 
 had scraped it in the falcon's swoop, showing at once 
 the cause of death and of the cloud of feathers which 
 accompanied the fall. As we turn away a shrill 
 plaintive squeak is heard, and looking into the ditch 
 a snake is seen making his repast in the horrible 
 cruel manner peculiar to those creatures — gradually 
 sucking down his capacious throat a large live frog, 
 seized by one of its hind legs. Pausing for a second 
 to rescue the wretched creature, we return to our 
 friend Search, and find him squatting under the bank, 
 half in, half out of the water. A dark brown bird 
 which had been lying close under his nose creeps 
 a yard or two in advance as we approach, and files 
 slowly and clumsily along the line of the ditch. It 
 is shot, of course, for all birds are game in the fens, 
 but it is a useless addition to the bag — the water-rail, 
 a distant cousin of tlie delicate land-rail, well-shaped, 
 with pretty feathers, but bad to eat and off'ensive to 
 smell. 
 
 The day is wearing away, and we turn our faces 
 resolutely towards the blue hill in the distant horizon. 
 The bag is heavy, and we are fain to relieve its 
 
286 Bohover Forest. 
 
 bearer by putting some of its contents into our 
 capacious pockets. A sbootiug-coat was not tben 
 what it is now ; it was made for use, not ornament, of 
 strongest material, aud amply provided with pockets. 
 I could put anything smaller than a calf into the 
 inner one of mine. 
 
 AVe pass over fresh ground as we return, and our 
 bag increases in number if not in respectability. A 
 white owl flopping out of a ruined mill is thought- 
 lessly shot, to the great dismay of Kilderkin, who 
 reluctantly picks up the ill-omened bird. He has 
 been in high spirits all day, but he appears at once 
 to have lost all heart, and strides along in silence 
 with a most dejected air. The owl is a mystic bird in 
 his eyes, and her death bodes disaster. " You 
 shouldn't have fired. Master B. ; the other gentleman 
 would have missed her. There's very few as can 
 shoot a howl. I remember last year Muster Willum, 
 he shot at a howl ; she sat on a dead bough of the wild 
 pear-tree in Long Lane. I never see a real howl sit 
 on a dead bough. Muster Willum, he ups with his 
 gun, and I says, ' For any sake. Muster "Willum,' 
 says I, ' don't fire, sir. You dorCt Tcnow what it may 
 he' Eut he did, and down come the bough, and 
 ;away flew the howl. But bless you. Master B.," he 
 
Fen- Shooting . 287 
 
 added solemnly, "/ hnowed it were no Jiowl.'' Kil- 
 derkin afterwards told me confidentially that it was 
 said, though he did not believe it, that Mother Flan- 
 ders, who was, as we all knew, a witch, commonly 
 assumed the shape and feathers of an owl. 
 
 Whether in consequence I am in doubt, but cer- 
 tainly before we reached Dale's lonely dwelling, our 
 pole broke, and we were forced to face some half- 
 dozen cold ditches, twelve and sixteen feet wide, as 
 best we might ; but the spirit of the slaughtered bird 
 having been appeased by this slight contretemps, 
 we reached Dale's in safety, and eventually arrived at 
 home, very wet, very tired, but in highest spirits, and 
 well satisfied with our bag, which when turned out 
 exhibited a goodly show of varied game ; snipe and 
 partridge, duck and teal, peewits, hare, the water- 
 rail before mentioned, a hoodie-crow, a barn-owl, 
 a magpie, and, strange inmate of a game-bag, a pike 
 of about two pounds weight. I have been many 
 times a sharer in battues where pheasants were killed 
 by the score and hares by the dozen, and not enjoyed 
 myself one tenth part so much as I did on one 
 of these wild days on the fens. 
 
 By the way, I must give the history of the pike I 
 have just referred to, and I entreat my readers 
 
288 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 to believe it on my testimony. When the surface of 
 the fens is covered with water these fish frequently 
 come in with the flood into certain narrow pits 
 or dykes out of which the turf has been cut, and are 
 left as it recedes without the possibility of escape. 
 It is no unusual thing to see a solitary jack m one of 
 these watery graves ; but in a particular pit a brace 
 had been left as nearly as possible of the same size 
 and weight, between one and two pounds each. The 
 water, though stained, is clear as wine, and I had 
 watched these fish for a long time previously. We 
 always shot fish when they were big enough, 
 but these hardly appeared worth powder ; besides, 
 they lay in capital ground, and it is not pleasant to 
 see a full snipe rise just within shot as you slay 
 a worthless pike. On this day, however, only one of 
 its accustomed occupants was visible in the pit, and 
 that presented a singular appearance, floating un- 
 easily near the surface. Aiming well beneath the 
 fish, at least double his apparent distance below the 
 surface, I fired, and on getting him out with the pole, 
 found that so far as in him lay he had swallowed his 
 companion ; the head and shoulders with the greater 
 part of the body were actually digested, whilst 
 the tail stuck out at one corner of its wicked mouth. 
 
Fen - Shooting, 289 
 
 As they lay in the water on former occasions I 
 could not have said which was the bigger of the two, 
 so nearly were they of a size ; but as the majus 
 continet in se the minus, we may assume that it was 
 the larger of the twain that I shot. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 WILD AND TAME ANIMALS. 
 
 Qtjaik ! quaik ! quaik ! " Ay, there you go No 
 manners. Mallards first. A cock-plieasant now, 
 always waits for the ladies." Quack ! quack ! quack ! 
 " Pour, five, six brace — there's a pretty sight. Master 
 B. ! " And so it was. Eising in two or three lots — 
 the mallards, as Belt observed, taking the lead — 
 a small flock of wild ducks took wing from the old 
 reed-fringed moat near the lodge, and cleaving the 
 air with their powerful wings, after circling round 
 the pond, flew away in a long string towards the 
 forest. 
 
 " Your ducks don't seem very tame yet, Mr. Belt," 
 said I. 
 
Wild and Tame A7iimals, 291 
 
 " Pretty well for that, Master B. They'll come to 
 my whistle to feed, if there's nothing to fright 'em ; 
 and they generally stay about the moat here all day. 
 This is flight time, you see, sir," 
 
 " But they'll get quite tame by degrees, I suppose, 
 like the others ? " 
 
 " Not they. Master B. ; they'll no more grow 
 into tame ducks than they will into tame pigeons." 
 "But surely the tame ducks were all wild once? " 
 " I'd like you to tell me when and who tamed 
 them, and how. I've tried it, I know, for well-nigh 
 twenty year, hatching the wild bird's egg, pinioning 
 the young, hatching their eggs, and so on ; and except 
 just in the way of knowing me like, and coming 
 to my whistle when I throw the food down, the 
 last brood is just every bit as wild as the first, takes 
 its flight at flight time, as you see them do now, pair 
 ofl'in the spring — you never see tame ducks pair — 
 and bring their young uns out into the world 
 together, like the father and mother of a family,"* 
 
 " But still," said I, " they must have been tamed 
 ^ome time!" 
 
 * " Smiles she to see the stately drahe 
 Lead forth his brood upon the lake." 
 
 Scott, 
 u2 
 
292 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 " Perhaps so, Master B., but it was before your 
 time or my time, or anybody's time in tliis world, for 
 that matter. Who changed their nature, Master B. ? 
 I say nothing of their shape. Who taught 'em to 
 waddle instead of walk ? Who made them swim 
 after their food instead of diving for it? Who 
 made them sleep at night instead of in the day? 
 Who taught them to drop their evening flight, 
 and give up their separate mates, like Yankee 
 Mormons ? Who " 
 
 " I quite agree with Mr. Belt," said my tutor, Mr. 
 Bedford, a gentleman under whose, care I had 
 recently been placed by my father, in order to 
 be prepared for the university, to which I was to go 
 in the following October. Mr. Bedford deserves 
 a more special introduction, but this is not the place 
 for it. He was a gentleman of great learning, an 
 ardent lover of natural history, if not an eminent 
 naturalist, and a good observer, so that, besides 
 engaging me in deeper studies, he confirmed my 
 taste for the delightful pursuit of natural history j 
 and many a pleasant walk we had together, and 
 many a pleasant lecture upon common objects 
 and common birds and beasts and insects did he 
 bestow upon me, with some of which I may ven- 
 
Wild and Ta^ne Animals. 293 
 
 ture, at some future time, to trouble my indulgent 
 readers. 
 
 " I agree witK our friend Mr. Belt in the opinion 
 that tame ducks, like other tame — ■! mean domesti- 
 cated — birds and animals, derive their origin from a 
 type entirely differing from that of their wild con- 
 geners. The reasons adduced by hira are to my 
 mind conclusive, and I would add that the colour of 
 the wild duck is uniform. ISTo generation, so long as 
 the wild strain is adhered to, ever varies a feather. 
 Nay, though crossed, and in consequence parti- 
 coloured, they will recur to that original colour after 
 generations. As in the octoroon, the black blood 
 asserts itself: 
 
 'Naturain expellas furca, tamen usque recurret.' 
 
 Tou never see this in the tame duck." 
 
 "But surely, sir, some tame birds derive their 
 origin directly from the wild — the goose, for in- 
 stance ? There is scarcely a feather to choose in 
 appearance between the wild and the tame bird." 
 
 " In appearance, no, but in character and habit, and 
 in all essential points, yes : indeed, I know of no kind 
 of birds that differ more. In none is the domestic 
 principle, the tendency to seek man's society and 
 
294 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 man's government and protection, more unequivocally 
 developed than in the tame goose ; in none are the 
 opposite qualities more manifestly innate than in 
 the wild. Did you ever hear of a tame wild goose ? 
 Zoological G-ardens ? Bah ! The birds are pinioned 
 or plucked. Let their pen-feathers grow, and what 
 in the early spring becomes of your tamed wild 
 goose ? ' She's away to the forest to hear a love- 
 tale ; ' and the goslings bred in the cold swamps of 
 Canada, or on 
 
 ' the gloomy shore 
 Of stern and pitiless Labrador,' 
 
 will show no more token of their mother's enforced 
 submission to the rule of man — man, the abhorred 
 of all truly wild animals — than they would have done 
 had she never left those dreary swamps. Has a wild 
 goose in confinement ever laid, or hatched her eggs, 
 if she laid any ? I think never. 
 
 ' The prisoned eagle will not pair,' 
 
 nor will the wild goose, as wild a bird, as noble a 
 bird, and better eating too. No, the wild goose was 
 born wild, and wild he must ever remain. The tame 
 goose was framed by Nature solely for the use and 
 food of man. Heavy in body, clumsy in gait, de- 
 
Wild and Tame Animals, 295 
 
 pendent in character, Hamlet's uncle did not furnish 
 a stronger contrast to his ' wholesome brother,' than 
 he does to the wild, independent, untamable ' Anas 
 ferus.' His one virtue is domesticity — ineradicable 
 domesticity. I remember the sad days of the Irish 
 famine, when men lay dead, starved to death by the 
 sides of roads or mountains, and by streams where 
 they had crawled to devour some succulent, unwhole- 
 some weed ; I have watched them by scores as they 
 tottered or crept along the road-side, gathering for 
 pot-herbs a crisp mealy-leaved weed — I do not know 
 its Lame — always found there, and I have closed my 
 eyes in horror as I passed, to shut out a spectacle 
 of misery it was out of my power to relieve, and 
 then, when such a thing as a potato-paring or a 
 cabbage-stalk, or a dry crust — the usual perquisites 
 of the pigs and poultry — would have been fought for 
 by ravenous men, I have seen great flocks of geese 
 sheltering themselves, night after night, under the 
 lee of some miserable cabin on the edge of a sloppy 
 bog stretching forth and ending in a vast lake, 
 whence they drew their daily food, and where, had 
 they so listed, they might have abided free from the 
 control and interference of the wretched peasants 
 that owned them. Did they take advantage of their 
 
296 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 position? Did they desert mau that had reared, 
 but never fed them ? No ! they and their ancestors 
 were, and from the beginning had been tame geese, 
 domesticated birds, tamed by the hand of their 
 Maker and given to man for his nse ; so, though 
 they received neither food, nor shelter, nor protec- 
 tion, they abode with him, clung to him, and in, 
 return were caught up, as they are to this day 
 twice a year, and deliberately plucked alive, every 
 feather ruthlessly torn out from the bleeding body — 
 in Ireland considered in the light of a hot-bed on 
 which to grow feathers for sale." 
 
 " But the cats ? Surely the domestic cat, the 
 purring, treacherous, mouse-and-bird-killing cat, has 
 its origin directly from the wild species which still, 
 in reduced numbers, tenant the wilda of Cumberland 
 and the mountains of Scotland ? " 
 
 " I think not : indeed, I feel sure not. A wild 
 cat, like a wild ass, a wild duck, a wild sheep, a wild 
 pigeon, a wild goose, is incapable of tameness — I 
 mean domestication. A more irreclaimably savage 
 beast does not exist. Physically, there are great 
 and important differences ; the colour of the wild 
 species is uniform, sandy or grey ; of the tame, in- 
 definitely varied ; the shape of the body, especially 
 
Wild and Tame Animals, 297 
 
 of the tail, differs essentially ; tlie intestines of the 
 wild cat are those of a wild beast, short, straight, 
 and simple, totally dissimilar to those of the tame 
 species, which are far longer and more complicated. 
 But I take my stand on the moral attributes, a wild 
 cat cannot be tamed — a tame cat never becomes 
 wild." 
 
 *' But Nat Belt often catches wild cats in the 
 woods." 
 
 " Not wild cats, but tame cats that, from neglect, 
 desertion, or innate love of independence, have re- 
 nouDced their allegiance to man, and, like the gipsies, 
 adopted a wild life, free from the restraints and 
 exempted from the responsibilities of civilization. 
 Such creatures, though not properly classed as wild, 
 cannot be permanently reclaimed ; the same is as- 
 serted of men who from some cause or other have 
 lived a. savage or solitary life for a length of time ; 
 they never return to civilization, but the offspring of 
 either, taken young, would be as tractable and docile 
 as were their parents before they lapsed into wild 
 habits." 
 
 " I beg pardon," said old Belt," "but J think it 
 was just the Deluge that done it I think that the 
 tame animals were bred from them that Noah 
 
298 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 brouglit out of the ark witli him, and the wild ones 
 from them that were left on parts of the earth as 
 parson says the flood never reached." 
 
 " A fanciful theory, perhaps," remarked my tutor ; 
 "but there may be truth in it. That the whole 
 world, as ive understand the term, was Dot covered 
 by water is now admitted on all hands ; and the 
 comprehensive description of the creatures that 
 went up with Noah into the ark may also bear a 
 restricted interpretation, and be confined to such 
 as were intended for the absolute use of man. 
 Eemember the command given to Noah was that 
 he should replenish the earth and subdue it. The 
 latter could only be carried out upon animals ferce 
 naturce, and so it was. We read that Nimrod was 
 'a mighty hunter.' The antiquity of domesticated 
 animals is proved by references to them in the most 
 ancient writings. Job, for instance, possessed asses, 
 and camels, and flocks, and herds ; so did Abraham 
 and Lot.* When and how were their assumed 
 progenitors tamed ? We cannot do it now with all 
 our means and appliances ; it has been tried by men 
 of skill and science, with wealth, and time, aud 
 skilled assistance to their aid, and they have utterly 
 * Abel was a " Keeper of Sheep." 
 
Wild and Tame Animals. 299 
 
 failed. No bird or beast has ever been tamed 
 — again I mean domesticated — within the 
 time to which tlie records of civilized man run. 
 How could tlie ignorant savage, without a cord 
 or a strap to fasten, without a paddock to confine, 
 without a notion of any power save that of brute 
 force, effect what we, with all the aids of civilization, 
 failed to do ? Yan Amburgh* tamed lions and 
 tigers, gorged with food and cowed by an iron rod, 
 but he never domesticated them. E.arey* subdued 
 Cruiser, but utterly failed when he tried his hand on 
 an old zebra that had been twenty years in the Zoo- 
 logical Grardens. Look at yon ' foal of an oppressed 
 race.' What affinity is there betwixt him and the 
 wild, untameable quagga or onager of the desert, his 
 assumed progenitor, the swiftest of beasts, bold, 
 crafty, savage in his wildness ? What primitive Earey 
 broke the noble beast ? What acclimatisation society 
 domesticated him ? As I said, we cannot do it now; 
 our fathers could not do it ; neither could they who 
 
 * Of course these are anachronisms ; hut in iUustrating an 
 axiom four thousand years old an ante-dating of thirty may he 
 excused. Mr. Bedford, though, might have quoted "The 
 Irish Whisperer " and the slave Androcles, who lived — 
 least the former — long before his time. 
 
300 Bo hover Forest. 
 
 lived in the days of old. The domestic ass, the 
 humble, ill-used ' moke,' was given to be the drudge 
 and slave and treasure of man ; of the rich in the 
 days of Abraham and the prophets, of the poor in the 
 days of Disraeli and the costermongers. The wild 
 ass was neither more nor less wild in the days of 
 Job than he is now." 
 
 " But surely the raven is recorded to have been a 
 denizen of the ark? " 
 
 " Perhaps he is the exception that proves the rule. 
 But the raven renounced his allegiance. He went 
 into the ark with Noah, but deserted it voluntarily ; 
 the dove, on the contrary, returned, and doubtless 
 became the ancestor of our numberless breeds of 
 tame pigeons. "We know that dovecots of enormous 
 size existed in the days of the Pharaohs ; and that 
 reminds me that you will rarely find an Egyptian 
 hieroglyphic without a cat or a dog, the former exactly 
 resembling the tame Egyptian cat of the present 
 day. True, these ancient paintings are not very 
 accurate, but in such simple drawings peculiarities 
 are exaggerated, not ignored. Had the wild animal 
 sat for its picture, the thick neck, the large head, 
 and the bushy tail — the characteristics of the wild 
 breed — would surely have been depicted. The dogs 
 
Wild and Tame Animals. 301 
 
 are very peculiar, long-legged, long-tailed, thin- 
 flanked, high in the quarters, not unlike a badly- 
 shaped greyhound. The late John Keast Lord,* 
 one of the best practical naturalists and most scien- 
 tific men of the day, assures me that the identical 
 animal is common in Syria at the present time. What 
 then becomes of the wolf or the hyena ancestor now 
 given to the dog ? Surely between the Deluge and 
 the building of the Pyramids there was not time to 
 change so completely the form and nature of the 
 animal ; and why, if such was not the case, has not 
 the change been progressive ? The lanky, prick- 
 eared, long-sided, Eastern cur is not, as we know, 
 the perfection of his race. Tes ; on the whole I am 
 inclined to believe, with Belt, that domesticated birds 
 and beasts originated from ancestors the companions 
 of Noah in the ark." 
 
 * See note on preceding page. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A QUABEEL A2fD ITS EESTJLT. 
 
 The following day was the day of the village feaat — 
 a great event in the eyes of the simple-minded folk 
 among whom we lived. The sports and pastimes 
 were of the rudest kind ; but they were types and 
 symbols of mirth and good-fellowship, and they 
 answered the purpose for which they were intended 
 as well as or better than more refined amusements 
 might have done. After all, it is not the paper on 
 which it is written that gives value to the bank-note. 
 Our country lads and lasses were as well pleased 
 throwing balls over garlands, playing skittles and 
 ninepins, or competing for the prize in sack-jumping, 
 pole-climbing, or holding a pig with a greased tail, as 
 
A Quarrel and its Result, 303 
 
 they could have been knocking snuff-boxes off a stick, 
 or a pipe out of Aunt Sally's mouth on the most 
 aristocratic of racecourses. 
 
 It was the squire's custom to walk through the fair 
 in the afternoon ; and warm and respectful were the 
 greetings he received as he passed. I accompanied 
 him, and was greatly pleased and interested by the 
 objects of marvel or luxury devised to lure the hard- 
 earned pence out of the rustic pocket. Two " Cheap 
 Johns," ostensibly rivals — really partners — with 
 much pretended abuse of each other, and bandying 
 time-worn jokes as each led up to the other's hand, 
 offered unheard-of bargains in the shape of knives, 
 combs, diamond rings, gold watchkeys, resplendent 
 jewellery of every description, to the gaping rustics. 
 The pig-faced lady, the huge live boa-constrictor (in 
 a small deal box), the stuffed mermaid, and the calf 
 with six legs (in a bottle), in turn claimed my notice. 
 All was mirth and jollity, when our attention was 
 attracted by a considerable crowd assembled near the 
 'Three Horse-shoes,' the only public-house in the 
 village. The clamour of many tongues, some in an 
 angry tone, the expostulating cry of women, and the 
 surging to and fro of the spectators, showed that a 
 fight— unusual occurrence — was going on. The 
 
304 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 hubbub ceased as the squire elbowed his burly form 
 into the ring, and the combatants shrunk away 
 abashed, but muttering threats of future vengeance 
 on each other, as angry men under such circum- 
 stances will. They vanished quickly, but not until 
 I had recognised, with pain, the well-remembered 
 faces of Sam Belt and his supplanted rival, Jerry 
 Cant. My father, with true tact, accepted this 
 practical proof of his just influence, made neither 
 comment nor inquiry, but passed on, speaking kindly 
 to those who met and greeted him. 
 
 That night the village wore its accustomed aspect 
 of joyous, careless happiness incident to the festival ; 
 there was little drunkenness — none, I may say — and 
 no recurrence of the afternoon's unwonted quarrel ; 
 the lads and lasses danced till a late hour — say nine 
 o'clock — and refreshed themselves with copious 
 draughts of heavy beer, and Humphrey gallantly saw 
 Dorothy home to her cottage door, returning to 
 dream, if his intellect was capable of such exertion, 
 of " the ball's fair partner ; " while she exercised her 
 imagination in calculating how long it would be 
 before another feast-day came round. All at night 
 was peace and goodwill and simple enjoyment. In 
 the morning, a frightful rumour rose, 
 
 " A liorrid whisper fell o'er us as we lay," 
 
A Quarrel and its Result. 305 
 
 and ripening into reality, ran through the village. A 
 man had been found murdered in an old pit in 
 Brjerly Wood, dead and cold ; a dreadful gash upon 
 his forehead disclosed the cause of death, and that 
 was all ; his pockets, with a few shillings in them, 
 were unrifled, his silver watch still going in his fob ; 
 the murdered man was Jerry Cant. Who was his 
 murderer ? 
 
 tt * TP tF * ^ 
 
 Who indeed ? In a few short hours, first incre- 
 dulously, then hesitatingly, then doubtfully, lastly 
 authoritatively, popular rumour laid the horrid crime 
 to the charge of Sam Belt. 
 
 Could it be ? Sam Belt ! old Nat's son, Baby's 
 brother, a murderer ! It must be a dream ; it was 
 impossible ! and yet three days later Sam had been 
 apprehended under the coroner's warrant, and stood 
 charged with the dreadful crime. 
 
 I hastened to my father. " You don't think Sam 
 guilty, sir?" said I. "You cant think Sam 
 guilty ? " 
 
 " No, Ben," he said thoughtfully (I had risen of 
 late to the first syllable of my name) — " No, Ben, not 
 of murder certainly ; but I think there is little doubt 
 
 X 
 
3o6 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 that he killed Jerry Cant, either in self-defence or 
 under provocation. I would gladly think him inno- 
 cent if I could. ' Crowner's 'Quest Law ' is not the 
 perfection of reason, and the jurors on an inquest 
 are not always conjurers ; but that he killed Jerry 
 Cant I think is clear." 
 
 " May I visit him in prison ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think you may. It is possible he may 
 make a clean breast of it to you : and the crime, if I 
 read it rightly, is far removed from that of deliberate 
 murder. If Sam should tell you how the matter 
 happened, get his permission and go and tell Mr. 
 Lovell, who has kindly taken up his case, all you 
 know. Mind, I don't want to hear anything about 
 it." 
 
 Availing myself of my father's permission, I rode 
 over to Slowton, and made my way to the gaol, where 
 I was at once admitted. The turnkey, Charles Bond, 
 had known me formerly ; his wife had been my nurse 
 and besides I was supported by my father's authority. 
 I found poor Sam in a small room on the ground- 
 floor sitting on his bed — almost the only article of 
 furniture it contained — with a very dejected expres- 
 sion of countenance. He rose at my entrance, half 
 putting forward his hand, but immediately withdraw- 
 
A Quarrel and its Result, 307 
 
 ing it. I saw the action, and held mine out, which 
 lie grasped warmly. 
 
 " You don't think me guilty, then, Master B. I 
 was sure you wouldn't." 
 
 •' No, Sam ! that I never did for a moment ; but I 
 thought perhaps you might have met in the wood — 
 and gone on again with your quarrel — and per- 
 haps " 
 
 " No, sir ! "We never met again. I have never set 
 eyes on Jerry since the fight at the feast." 
 "What did you fight about, Sam? " 
 " Well, sir, you know Jerry and I were both court- 
 ing Jemima, and she took up with me, and Jerry 
 didn't like that, and then he wanted to make up to 
 Baby ; and as he wasn't a bad-looking chap and had a 
 good business down yonder, mayhap Baby might 
 have come round to him, but father and I knew him 
 for a poacher and a bad lot in more ways than one, 
 and so we stopped that, and turned him out of the 
 house, and that's what's set him agin me; and when 
 we met at the feast he had been drinking, and picked 
 a quarrel, and at last struck me, and so we fought." 
 
 " But is it true that you threatened him when you 
 separated ? " 
 
 " I don't know about threatening j but he said he'd 
 
 x2 
 
3o8 Bolsover Fared. 
 
 have killed me if we hadn't beeii parted, and I told 
 him to mind that I didn't kill him, or something of 
 that sort." 
 
 Our conversation lasted some time, and I left the 
 prison thoroughly convinced that Sam was innocent. 
 I hastened to Mr. Lovell to apprise him of the fact, 
 thinking that it would be a relief to his mind ; but he 
 did not seem to adopt my conclusions, as I antici- 
 pated that he would. During the recital he once or 
 twice muttered, " Better have made a clean breast of 
 it! Better have made a clean breast! We could 
 have got it reduced to manslaughter." And to my 
 earnest asseveration of Sam's undoubted innocency, 
 the lawyer, nursing his left leg on his right knee, 
 simply replied with a long-drawn whistle. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Benjamin " (it was the first time in 
 my life I had ever been called by my full name), " we 
 shall see, we shall see. Tour excellent father is an 
 old friend and a valued client of mine, and takes great 
 interest in this young man. I have retained counsel ; 
 and the best that can be done for him shall be done, 
 but " — again sinking his voice — " I wish he had made 
 a clean breast of it I I wish he had made a clean 
 breast of it ! " 
 
 Sadly and wearily — for poor Sam at least — the 
 
A Quarrel and its Result, 309 
 
 time passed on. The day of the assizes approached, 
 the lodgings for the judges were secured, the high- 
 sheriff's old family coach rubbed up, two of his best 
 cart-horses promoted to the carriage for the nonce, 
 and the pair that ordinarily dragged that aristocratic 
 vehicle converted into leaders ; a score of ploughboys 
 and other retainers of the family, clothed in long 
 great coats and liveried hats, acting as javelin men ; 
 the jury is sworn, and Samuel Belt stands before the 
 country to be tried for the murder of Jeremiah 
 Cant. 
 
 I confess that, with all my confidence in Sam's 
 innocence, I was staggered at the array of proof 
 which was adduced against him, and which, although 
 my instinct rebelled against it, my reason acknow- 
 ledged to be very cogent. 
 
 It was proved, without question, that great per- 
 sonal animosity existed between the two j the prisoner 
 had not only been the successful rival of the mur- 
 dered man, but had interfered with his addresses 
 when transferred to his sister ; there had also been 
 misunderstandings between them on the subject of 
 poaching, the fight before recorded was described as 
 of a particularly savage character, and threats of 
 future vengeance were proved to have been uttered 
 
31 
 
 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 by the prisoner. He was shown to have been 
 absent from home the night of the murder, and 
 footsteps corresponding with the shoes he wore were 
 traced close to the old pit where the body was 
 found. He had been seen early in the same morning 
 to hide himself at the approach of one of the wit- 
 nesses for the prosecution, a policeman,, in a culvert 
 which ran under the Slowton Eoad, and to leave it 
 after looking circumspectly round in the direction of 
 his home, carrying in his hand something which the 
 witnessfbelieved to have been a hatchet. In an out- 
 house adjoining old Belt's cottage, to which Sam 
 had access, was found, behind some faggots, a light 
 butcher's cleaver, answering this description ; on it 
 were blood stains 'and morsels of dark hair, which, 
 when examined under a microscope, were alleged to 
 be human, dark in colour, and identical with that of 
 the murdered man. On applying the weapon to 
 what the surgeon described as " an incised wound on 
 the pericranium," the immediate cause of death, it 
 was found to fit exactly. Sam's clothes, moreover, 
 were spotted with blood in many places. Poor 
 fellow ! his demeanour at the trial was not much in 
 his favour. Accustomed to a life of comparative 
 seclusion, he was frightened and confused ; he had 
 
A Quarrel and its Result, 3 1 1 
 
 few friends (a good keeper, as before remarked, 
 never lias many), and close confinement had told 
 more upon him physically and mentally than it would 
 have done upon one less accustomed to a free life in 
 the open air. In truth, he presented a sorry appear- 
 ance in the dock — as many an innocent man has 
 before him, 
 
 Mr. Lovell bad kept his word, and done all that 
 could be done for him ; able counsel were retained 
 on his behalf, and all they could — and that was little 
 — they did. That wonderful rule which even where 
 a human life is at stake prescribes the exact routine 
 under which a man may or may not prove his inno- 
 cence was even stronger in those days than it is now. 
 A witness could not even be called to character, with- 
 out giving the right of reply to the counsel on the 
 opposite side ; and the last word had a considerable 
 effect upon the dozen intelligent men, who, if they 
 had not made up their minds before they came into 
 the box, generally found their verdict " for Coun- 
 sellor A." or "for Serjeant B.," as the case might be. 
 It was urged in the prisoner's defence that the alleged 
 threats had been at least mutual, that the prisoner's 
 general habits were quiet and inoffensive, that his 
 avocation constantly led him through the wood in 
 
312 Bolsover Forest, 
 
 question, and that a keeper's clothes must necessarily 
 be spotted with blood. It was suggested, though of 
 course it could not be proved, that he had crept into 
 the culvert to take up one of his traps, and it was 
 that which, in the dim light of the morning, the 
 policeman mistook for a hatchet. That a keeper 
 should look round before he left a place of conceal- 
 ment was natural enough ; and, though the door of 
 the outhouse was locked, the window was admitted 
 to have been open and facing the high-road. 
 
 After a short deliberation the jury returned a 
 verdict of " Gruilty " against poor Sam, and the sense 
 of the numerous spectators was evidently in favour 
 of the verdict. Sentence of death in the usual im- 
 pressive manner was passed by the presiding judge ; 
 and Samuel Belt, my boyish companion, instructor, 
 and in some sort my friend, was left for execution. 
 
 I may here say that, though great influence was 
 used, and a recommendation to mercy urged at the 
 Home Office, no favourable effect was produced. The 
 sentence on an atrocious murderer had with ill-judged 
 lenity been recently commuted, greatly to the disgust 
 of the public. It was necessary that an example 
 should be made ; and ten days after the trial it was 
 understood that no hope of reprieve or commutation 
 remained. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CONDEMNED CELL. 
 
 " Mat I pay poor Sam another visit ? " said I to my 
 father one morning after breakfast. 
 
 "Well, Ben, I think you had better not ; it would 
 be very painful to both, and no possible good could 
 come of it." 
 
 " I think, sir, that Belt and his wife would wish it 
 very much : and I shouldn't like Sam to think I had 
 deserted him." 
 
 " Ah ! poor old Nat ! " said my father, " we must 
 think of him in his sorrow. Yes ! you may go, my 
 boy ; here's an order," writing one as he spoke ; 
 *' they'll be more particular now, I suppose. And 
 Ben," added he, as I was leaving the room, " if there 
 
314 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 is anything that we could send that would make him 
 more comfortable in any way, you may offer it, but it 
 shouldn't come exactly from me, you know. Poor 
 Sam ! " 
 
 Armed with the order, I mounted my horse and 
 rode to Slowton. Bond, who received me at first, 
 declared that it was impossible that I could be ad- 
 mitted ; but my father was one of the visiting justices, 
 and his authority was considered sufficient justifica- 
 tion for a breach of the general orders. I found Sam 
 the solitary inmate of the condemned cell, to which 
 he had been removed — a dreary den at the end of a 
 passage, into which it opened by a massive iron door. 
 There was no chimney in the room, and the window, 
 which revealed the thickness of the outer wall, was 
 far too narrow, even were the bars that intersected it 
 removed, to admit of the passage of a human body. 
 I felt, as the iron door clashed behind me, as Sam had 
 doubtless felt before, that hope had been left behind. 
 It was little I could say, for my heart was full, and 
 I could find no topic either of hope or comfort ; 
 besides we were not alone : a prisoner condemned to 
 death is never left by himself, and it was only for a 
 few seconds, as the turnkey who was called away by 
 other duties exchanged his guard for that of the 
 
The Condemned Cell, 3 1 5 
 
 governor of the gaol, that a few whispered words 
 passed between us ; but those few words caused 
 Sam's face to brighten considerably. I was leaving 
 the cell as the governor entered. " Grod bless you 
 Sam! good-bye," said I, wringing his hand once 
 more. 
 
 " G-ood-bye, sir ! and Grod bless you! we shall never 
 meet again in this world." 
 
 " Sam," said I, turning at the door, " my father 
 bade me say that if there was any little comfort you 
 fancied from the house, I might send it— if the cap- 
 tain here would allow me." 
 
 Poor Sam's eyes glistened, and so did the governor's 
 for that matter. 
 
 " Thank ye, sir ! the squire was always kind. Do 
 you think, sir, he'd allow Jemima to make me a rabbit 
 pie?" 
 
 " I am sure he will, Sam, if the captain will take it 
 in." 
 
 '' "Why, Mr. Benjamin," said the governor, " it is 
 against rules to allow a condemned prisoner anything 
 to eat but what's cooked in the prison." 
 
 "Well," said I, "then I'll send the pie, and you 
 can bake it here, you know." 
 
 " That'll do," said the captain, opening the door for 
 me. 
 
3i6 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 From the gaol I proceeded to Mr. Allonby's shop 
 in the High Street. Bill, who had grown into a tall 
 young man, and was reckoned a first-class workman, 
 had risen to the rank of foreman ; I thought it but 
 kind to call and bestow a few words of comfort upon 
 him. I found him seated on the identical stool in 
 the same dirty little corner where I had last seen 
 him ; neither his face nor his hands were cleaner, 
 excepting where the former was furrowed with recent 
 tears. Though grown, he was little changed ; and as 
 I looked at him I could not but recall the doleful 
 face that greeted my returning consciousness after 
 the fall in Bolsover Forest. Bill was working away 
 as he had been before with file and oil and steel saw : 
 and the heap of old keys and rusty iron, though 
 somewhat larger, appeared the same as when I had 
 visited him five years before. 
 
 I spent a quarter of an hour with Bill ; and when 
 I returned home I at once communicated Sam's 
 wishes to Jemima, who, like several whom I had met 
 that day, I found in tears. She, however, as if glad 
 to distract her thoughts by some occupation, set 
 diligently to work, and in an hour the pie was made ; 
 I superintended the operation, and made an addition to 
 its contents little dreamed of by the sorrowful young 
 
The Condemned Cell. ^ly 
 
 woman ; then availing myself of my father's permis- 
 sion, I sent tlie coachman off with the pie, who 
 delivered it safely into the governor's own hands. 
 
 This was Friday ; the execution was to take place 
 on the following Monday. 
 
 On Saturday night I could not sleep for thinking 
 of the impending tragedy, and at dawn on the follow- 
 ing morning I had risen, and was looking out of my 
 bedroom window. Still, I had some grounds for 
 hope, my addition to the pie having been the cast- 
 iiway key, Bill's early work. A slight noise attracted 
 my attention, and peering through the gloom I saw 
 Sam, half hidden by the laurels, pale, wan, and hag- 
 gard, but Sam himself, before me. In an instant I 
 had dropped from the window, and was by his side. 
 "Thank heaven! you have escaped then; but 
 why did you come here ? They will surely seek 
 you." 
 
 " Well, Master B., I couldn't help coming to the 
 old folk at the lodge, you know, and besides, they'll 
 never think I would be such a fool as to run home ; 
 they won't look for me here." 
 
 " Did you come straight here, Sam ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, excepting that I turned up Eaveley 
 Lane, to look at a box trap I had left there, and to 
 
^l8 Bohover Forest, 
 
 see there was no poor crittur of a varmint pining 
 in it. I know what imprisonment is, Master B." 
 
 " Kind-hearted fellow," thought I ; " and this is 
 the man they would have hanged for murder." But 
 time was precious. It was Sunday morning, fortu- 
 nately, and no labourers were about. Sam was 
 hastily hidden in a hole scooped out of the straw-stack, 
 the mouth of which I concealed by an armful care- 
 lessly thrown over ; and obliterating the marks of 
 my own footsteps, I regained my room unobserved. 
 
 The particulars of Sam's escape I learned sub- 
 sequently. He had opened the door of his cell by 
 means of the key, and by the connivance of his old 
 friend Charlie Bond, who pretended he had been 
 attacked and nearly murdered, gained the outer gate 
 the key of which he had taken from Bond. The fol- 
 lowing statement appeared in the Slowton Gazette of 
 the ensuing week, and was never contradicted in any 
 material feature by the result of the careful in- 
 vestigation which followed. It was headed : 
 
 " extkaoedinaey escape of the convict 
 Belt, and Attempt at Double Muedee. 
 
 " It is with amazement and regret we inform our 
 readers that the blood-stained murderer, Samuel 
 
The Escape, 319 
 
 Belt, whose crime was by a righteous judgment to 
 have been expiated on the scaffold last Monday- 
 morning, has — we trust for a time only — evaded the 
 doom he so richly merited. The exact mode of his 
 escape is still shrouded in mystery ; but from the 
 evidence taken before the magistrates, it would seem 
 that by some inexplicable means the prisoner had 
 drawn back the massive bolts it was thought impos- 
 sible to move except by the key which fitted the 
 lock of the condemned cell, and which was in the 
 governor's custody day and night ; this, however, 
 was by some means effected, and the evidence of the 
 turnkey, Charles Bond, and his wife Margaret, suffi- 
 ciently explain the rest. Unconscious of the vicinity 
 of the self-liberated captive. Bond had opened the 
 door which leads to the condemned cell at the mo- 
 ment that his wife, who acts as housemaid, was 
 approaching to sweep out the passage. Bushing by 
 him, the sanguinary wretch seized his wife, and 
 dashed her violently to the ground. But that her 
 head came in contact with the thick door-mat, she 
 must have added another to the grim list of the 
 murderer's victims. As it was, she lay stunned and 
 helpless, unable even to cry out for help. Her con- 
 dition is still precarious. Bond, it appears, closed 
 
320 Bolsover Forest. 
 
 at once with the murderer in mortal conflict. He 
 was, however, no match for the convict — a man of 
 great physical power — who appears to have throttled 
 him, bent him backwards over the iron balusters, and 
 then, with fiendish malice, twisted his head between 
 the rails so as to bring it almost in contact with his 
 heels, in which position he was found shortly after- 
 wards, his back apparently broken, and almost dead ; 
 but little hope of his recovery is entertained. The 
 murderer, taking the keys that had been thrown down 
 in the scuffle, let himself out at the great 'gates, and 
 locking them behind him proceeded, unnoticed at 
 that early hour in the morning, towards Bryerly 
 Wood, the scene of his first (known) murder. He 
 was seen to enter the wood, and hot pursuit at once 
 set on foot. The ground being moist from recent 
 rain, his footsteps were traced through the wood by 
 the very scene of the murder, until they turned 
 eastward towards the village of E/aveley, on the hard 
 road towards which place they were lost. It is 
 probable that the felon at first intended to seek the 
 shelter of his former home, but altered his plan, from 
 a natural expectation of being sought for there." 
 
 Thus then, thought I, as 1 read the account, poor 
 Sam's kindness of heart put his enemies on a false 
 
The Escape, 321 
 
 scent, for it was at the point mentioned he had 
 turned away to liberate the supposed prisoner from 
 his box trap. 
 
 A later paragraph stated that Margaret Bond, the 
 wife of the turnkey, was gradually recovering, though 
 still suffering from the effects of the blow ; and, 
 strange to say, her husband, whose back was supposed 
 to have been broken, though not out of danger, was 
 certainly better, and some hopes were entertained of 
 his recovery. Neither, however, was capable of 
 giving evidence or supporting a lengthened examina- 
 tion. 
 
 After breakfast I proceeded to the lodge, where I 
 found old Nat and his wife just recovering from the 
 wonderment and delight occasioned by the reappear- 
 ance of their dearly-beloved son. They were seated 
 side by side, with Nat's old Bible open before them. 
 At my entrance both arose, and Nat Belt, laying his 
 hand on my shoulder, poured out blessings and 
 thanks, earnest and heartfelt, none the worse that 
 they were but imperfectly expressed. Mrs. Belt, 
 more impulsive, threw her arms round my neck and 
 sobbed over me, as doubtless she had done over her 
 sou a short time previously. Baby nestled towards 
 us, and taking my hand between hers as she sat on 
 
 T 
 
322 Bohover Forest, 
 
 the floor, covered it with kisses. It was clear that in 
 the minds of these simple people I was somehow con- 
 nected witli Sam's escape. 
 
 The scene became altogether too toucliing. I was 
 always soft-hearted, and my only resource was to rush 
 from the lodge, the " big round tears coursing one 
 another down my innocent nose." 
 
 I had not run fifty yards from the door when in the 
 narrow pathway which leads from the lodge to the 
 Hall I encountered Holder, the policeman, one of the 
 witnesses at the trial. I ran, in fact, right into his 
 arms. 
 
 " Bless me ! Mr. Benjamin," said he, " where are 
 you going in such a hurry?" and then, looking into 
 my face he added, good-naturedly, " Ah ! 1 see, sir ; 
 well, you needn't take on about old Belt's son down 
 there this turn. He'll not be hung to-morrow, after 
 all." 
 
 " What ! " said I, recovering my presence of mind ; 
 " has he been reprieved ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; but he's escaped ! " 
 
 " Escaped ! impossible ! How could he ? " 
 
 ** How, indeed ! It's the most mysterious event that 
 ever I had information of." 
 
 " Do tell me all about it." 
 
The EiiCape, 323 
 
 " I'll tell you, sir, all I know, and that's not much. 
 He must be an oudacious clever fellow, that Sam ! He 
 managed not only to get the chains off his legs, but 
 to force back the bolts and pick the best and strongest 
 lock in the county. There are three bolts, and Mr. 
 Allonby, who's just mad about it, swears as nothing 
 but the key could have shot 'em. However, he's 
 wrong there, for there's only one key, and that was 
 under the captain's pillow. Mr. Benjamin, that artful 
 dodger opened the lock somehow, and got out at five 
 o'clock this morning, lays wait in the passage, pretty 
 nigh murders Charles Bond and his wife, takes 
 the keys from 'em, and walks out of the main 
 entrance like a gentleman at large — and that's what 
 he is at this minute — but won't be much longer I 
 expect." 
 
 "But Bond and his wife — do you say he killed 
 them ?" 
 
 " I don't say that quite ; but he just tied Bond up 
 in a knot like over the balusters, dislocated the vibrat- 
 ing column, the doctor calls it, and left him for dead ; 
 and as for Mrs. Bond — I suppose he had not time for 
 much ceremony — he just dashed her down, and left 
 her stunned and helpless. Had it not been for the 
 door- mat she would have been killed too ; they are 
 
 y2 
 
324 Bohover Forest 
 
 both so bad that they could give no evidence on 
 the case." 
 
 " But why do you think he will be taken again ? '* 
 ** Well, sir, they tracked him through the wood, 
 you see, and towards Kaveley, but he couldn't go 
 there ; it was too late in the day. So no doubt he's 
 hid in the wood somewhere. They'll find him when 
 the reward's large enough. I've come here on guard 
 like ; but, bless you ! he'll never come here ; he's too 
 wide awake for that." And so the policeman, in 
 whose opinion Sam evidently stood very high, left me 
 much relieved in my mind. 
 
 The strictest search was made for many consecutive 
 days. Large rewards were offered, but without effect. 
 I believe there was not a rabbit-hole in Bryerly 
 "Wood that was not searched, but without result. 
 Sam had been seen to enter the wood, and it appeared 
 impossible he could have left it unobserved. 
 
 " Had he sunk into earth ? 
 Had he melted in air ? 
 They saw not, they knew not, 
 But nothing was there," 
 
 And so by degrees the nine days' wonder ceased, and 
 Sam's escape was considered one of the unexplained 
 mysteries of the day. 
 
The Escape. .3 2- 5 
 
 ****** 
 I am not sure whether or not my father knew or 
 suspected Sam's concealment on the grounds ; I think 
 he did. Contrary to his usual custom, he retired to 
 his own room to read the papers the moment break- 
 fast was over, and was unusually particular about 
 having plenty of cold meat on the side-board at that 
 meal. The servants must have given some one credit 
 for a prodigious appetite. Sam was a bit of a philo- 
 sopher, and had been by no means overfed of late. 
 When the farm people were away I took him huge 
 hunches of bread and meat ; and a bucket of water, 
 daily renewed from the well, with an occasional 
 bottle of beer, sufficed for ablutions and drink. He 
 took his exercise at night in the walled garden, to 
 which he got access through the barn that bounded 
 it, and on the whole found himself much more com- 
 fortable than when an inmate of the condemned cell 
 
 in Slowton Graol. 
 
 ****** 
 
 A fortnight afterwards a respectable-looking indivi- 
 dual, with neatly-trimmed beard, hair, and whiskers, 
 attired in a not over-new suit of black cloth, a 
 moderately clean neckcloth, "Wellington boots, and 
 well-brushed hat, a bundle in his hand, and an excel- 
 
326 Bohover Forest. 
 
 lent butler's character, in the form of an open letter, 
 addressed to " Henry Jones, Esquire, Stock Exchange, 
 Liverpool," in his pocket, took his place outside the 
 Slowton coach, at 5 a.m. 
 
 " I'll write if I get safe off, Master B. ; and if any- 
 good luck turn up, put an advertisement in the New 
 York Herald. Grod bless you, sir." 
 
 It was upwards of a year afterwards that the 
 following paragraph appeared in the Sloivton Gazette: 
 
 " Capttjee of a Poachek and Eeceiyee of Stolen 
 Goods, and Extbaoedinaet Confession or a 
 Mtjedee. 
 
 " On Thursday last Guy Drake, a person well known 
 to the police as carrying on, under the guise of a 
 pork-butcher and game- dealer, a nefarious traffic in 
 poached game and stolen goods, was brought before 
 the magistrates and committed to Slowton Gaol on a 
 charge of complicity in various recent robberies. It 
 appears that he reached the gaol in the dusk of the 
 evening, and passing through the prisoners' yard, 
 across which, as some of our readers may be aware, 
 a light iron bridge is suspended, his attention was 
 attracted by the tall dark form of a prisoner crossing, 
 who to his distempered imagination appeared to be 
 
The Escape. 327 
 
 "walking in the air. Believing that he saw a ghost, 
 and urged by remorse, he sent for the chaplain of the 
 gaol, and confessed that it was he, and not Samuel 
 Belt — who so nearly suffered for the crime — who 
 murdered Jeremiah Cant in Bryerly Wood, upwards 
 of a year since. He stated that on the night of the 
 murder he had met Jerry Cant by appointment near 
 the old gravel pits, to settle an outstanding account; 
 that after some dispute, Jerry, whose temper appeared 
 to be much ruffled, and wbo had been drinking, struck 
 him and seized him by the throat, upon which he 
 snatched out of his cart the cleaver he ordinarily 
 used, and struck him with it across the forehead. 
 The blow was fatal, and the murderer, terrified at 
 what he had done, jumped into his cart and drove oif, 
 careless in what direction. It occurred to him in 
 passing an outhouse to get rid of the weapon by 
 hiding it there, and the door being locked, he threw 
 it through the window, whence it fell behind the 
 faggots, where it was subsequently found. The 
 wretched culprit stated that he was not aware to 
 whom the outhouse belonged, nor — having left the 
 country at once — did he hear until after the event of 
 the narrow escape Sam Belt had had of being hanged 
 for his crime. That the main part of this confession 
 
3^8 Bohover Forest, 
 
 is true, we can have no doubt, althougli the latter 
 portion can scarcely be credited. It is rarely that, 
 even under the influence of remorse, a criminal con- 
 fesses the whole truth. Our readers will remember 
 that at the time we expressed considerable doubts of 
 the truth of the charge preferred against Sam Belt ; 
 and we heartily congratulate that young man's 
 respectable relatives upon the establishment of his 
 undoubted innocence." 
 
 I need not describe the joy of the family at the 
 lodge ; the whole village rejoiced ; and my father, 
 though he seldom referred to the subject, was as 
 much pleased as any one. Her Majesty was graciously 
 pleased to extend her free pardon to poor Sam for a 
 deed he had never done, and an advertisement inserted 
 as he had directed shortly brought him back to this 
 country, looking much more like himself than when 
 he left it. 
 
PART rv. 
 
 THE BAGMAN 
 
THE BAGMAN 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 Mr. Thomas "Wood, or, as lie liked to be styled, 
 Thomas Wood, Esquire, was a person of no small im- 
 portance in the little town of Slowton. Of his origin 
 little or nothing was known except that he had held a 
 situation from his earliest youth in the family of the 
 Earl of Bagwash, in whose pay and confidential em- 
 ploy he still continued. The Earl had been a good 
 sportsman in his day, and still kept a pack of fox- 
 hounds in the neighbourhood of London, but he had 
 become somewhat Uase, cared little for a cold ride 
 and a long draw, and preferred the brisk and certain 
 gallop afforded by a bag fox, to the legitimate plea- 
 sures of the chase. He kept a capital pack of dwarf 
 foxhounds, which he called harriers, in a distant 
 
SS^ The Bagman, 
 
 county, accessible by rail, before whom a fox was 
 turned down once or twice a week. Mr. "Wood's 
 principal employment, besides overlooking the kennel 
 establishment, was to provide a hebdomadal relay of 
 foxes for this purpose — and hard enough work he 
 found it. 
 
 Mr. "Wood was enjoying his glass of hot brandy 
 and water after an early dinner one fine afternoon in 
 January, when the boy in buttons, who officiated as 
 butler, announced " a young man " as wanting to 
 speak with him. On inquiry the young man's name 
 was stated to be " Billy," or, as Buttons was charged 
 to add, " Slender Billy." A thin, tall, hungry- 
 looking man of about thirty followed close upon the 
 heels of Buttons, and holding his fur cap in his left 
 hand, saluted Mr. "Wood by a tug at his hair with his 
 right. 
 
 " Sarvant, Guv'nor; we've got a real good un this 
 time ! " 
 
 " Let's look at him," said Mr. Wood. 
 
 " Bless you, sir ! he's not to be looked at ; he's in 
 his kennel. My pardners and me we've been diggin' 
 since last night, and we can just touch him with a 
 stick." 
 
 " I'll come and look at the hole then," said Mr. 
 
The Bagman. ^2>3 
 
 "Wood ; *' I'm not going to be put off with a Leaden- 
 hall fox again." 
 
 " All right, master ; it's on'y five miles off. Jump 
 into my trap, and you'll be there in no time." 
 
 Mr. Wood apparently did not relish this proposi- 
 tion, and, after much bargaining, agreed to purchase 
 the fox for three pounds, one of which Slender Billy 
 insisted upon being paid in advance. Having received 
 a sovereign, Billy appealed successfully for a glass of 
 brandy and unsuccessfully for a shilling to save 
 melting the sov., and departed, pledging himself to 
 return with the fox by five o'clock the following 
 morning. 
 
 Billy had probably over-estimated the distance, or 
 else the ragged, spavined pony that was rope-har- 
 nessed to the rickety vehicle he styled " the trap " 
 travelled at an unprecedented pace, for within ten 
 minutes from the time he had quitted Mr. Wood's 
 parlour he found himself in the presence of his 
 " pals." True, they were, not digging — indeed, they 
 did not look as if digging would come natural to them 
 — but they were, as Billy had averred, at ' The Fox's 
 Hole.' I allude to the public-house so designated, 
 and which, as our readers know, stands close to 
 Bryerly Wood, and within a mile of the Grrange, the 
 residence of John Stubbs, Esq. 
 
334 The Bagman. 
 
 Mr. Stubbs bad used his personal interest with tbe 
 noble master of the Deep dene hounds to save the life 
 of a fine fox which had taken refuge in a labourer's 
 cottage after a brilliant run at the end of the last 
 season, and had since kept him chained in a comfort- 
 able kennel under some old elm trees, in front of his 
 house, where " Charlie," as Mr. Stubbs called bim, 
 had become an object of considerable interest to all 
 the neighbours and visitors who frequented that hos- 
 pitable mansion. It was the intention of Slender 
 Billy and his accomplices to steal this animal, and 
 palm him off upon Mr. Wood as a wild fox just dug 
 out of his earth. After informing his " pals " that 
 he had made a bargain for two pounds, which, as he 
 showed, would be just " one for them two and one 
 for him too," and expatiating upon the niggardliness 
 of that gentleman who wouldn't so much as stand 
 him a drop to drink or give him a shilling to buy 
 one, the plans were laid and successfully carried out, 
 and by four in the morning the ragged pony and the 
 rickety cart, the three men seated side by side in 
 front, and the fox in a sack behind, were in Mr. 
 Wood's yard. 
 
 Under that gentleman's direction tbe fox was 
 turned into a small paddock closely fenced all round, 
 
The Bagfnan. 335 
 
 with a kennel in one corner and a little clump of 
 evergreens on each side. Billy having received his 
 two pounds with some grumbling, which he took 
 care his companions should hear, while he drowned 
 the allusion to the one paid in advance, proceeded to 
 divide them in the equitable manner suggested. 
 
 Mr. "Wood having examined his purchase was well 
 pleased at finding a really magnificent animal, though 
 perhaps something of the fattest. 
 
 " Never mind," said Mr. Wood, " we'll soon get that 
 ! " and called to his man John to bring the broom. 
 John appeared, broom in hand, and immediately 
 commenced hustling the unlucky animal round and 
 round the paddock, sometimes allowing him a mi- 
 nute's rest in one or other of the laurel clumps, but 
 keeping him moving at a rattling pace, till the fox 
 was so exhausted he could run no more. This course 
 of treatment was pursued day by day for a month 
 until the animal, although well fed, had attained the 
 highest possible condition, and was as lank as a grey- 
 hound. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE MEET, 
 
 " Friday IStli — Lord Bagwash's — Newton 
 Tollbarl2." 
 
 Such was the announcement which, under the head- 
 ing of " Harriers," appeared in the sporting papers 
 of Saturday, February 9th, 186 — ; and a little before 
 that hour a tolerably large muster of well-mounted 
 men approached the place of meeting from aU points 
 of the compass. The meet^ however, hardly pre- 
 sented to the practised eye a sportsman-like appear- 
 ance. There were good men there, it is true, and 
 good horses, two or three hard riders from the neigh- 
 bouring hunts, some officers from the barracks, and a 
 sprinkling of farmers, but there was a want of spirit 
 
The Meet, 337 
 
 about the affair ; the men of the different hunts 
 looked suspiciously at each other, like men who meet 
 iu town in September, and old Sam Caird, the hunts- 
 man, had the appearance of one who was doing a 
 duty he was a little ashamed of. Indeed, several 
 thought it necessary to make excuses for being there 
 at all ; one had got a new horse to try ; another was 
 sick of blank days and hunting runs, and wanted 
 " a spin ; " a third had come out for the first 
 time from curiosity to see a bagman turned out; 
 Mr. Stubbs had come at the especial request of his 
 friend Mr. Wood, and he, too, had a promising young 
 one to try. There was besides a sprinkling of men 
 who, deceived by the advertisement, really believed 
 they had come out to " hunt the sprightly hare." 
 
 Three or four hours previously, the fox, deceived 
 by a pane of glass fixed to the end of a box trap, 
 through which he vainly essayed to escape, had been 
 caged, turned upon his back, and as in struggling his 
 feet protruded through the barred bottom of the 
 trap, had been anointed on each with a drop of 
 aniseed. Transferred to a more roomy box, he was 
 then conveyed by Slender Billy to a copse, about a 
 quarter of a mile from the meet, with instructions 
 when he heard the horn to " open the box and turn 
 him down." z 
 
338 The Bagvian. 
 
 "There's my lord ou his horse looking for the- 
 hounds, sir," said Beu, the first whip, to Mr. Caird, 
 " a top of the hill yonder." 
 
 " I'll give him a blow," said Caird, and immediately" 
 produced two sounding notes upon his horn. Hounds 
 are, or always ought to be, excited by the sound of 
 the horn, but the pack on this occasion appeared 
 almost wild ; some careered about, many opened as 
 though in full cry, and it was with great difficulty 
 they were restrained by the voice of the huntsman 
 and the efforts of the whips from breaking away in 
 mad pursuit apparently of they knew not what. 
 
 In a few minutes his lordship appeared, accom- 
 panied by some members of his hunt, several strangers 
 arriving at the same time. 
 
 " Deuced late these hounds meet ! " remarked 
 young Charles Sydney, a pink and white youth, 
 fresh from Cambridge and the drag, to his companion, 
 a rough, red-whiskered yokel, attired in an ill-fitting 
 coat and rusty cap, generally known as " Dandy 
 Jones," to distinguish him from " Grentleman Jones," 
 a different person. "Deuced late! the day is half 
 gone." 
 
 " Well, it is late," replied his companion. "But 
 they don't lose much time drawing, you see." 
 
The Meet. 339 
 
 " Plenty of hares, eli ? " said Sydney. 
 
 " Ta-as, plenty of hares ! " 
 
 "Don't much like this sort of thing," muttered 
 our friend Stubbs ; " feel somehow kinder ashamed 
 of myself, but the colt's hot and won't stand that 
 sort of dodging work we so often get with the fox- 
 hounds in this cramped country ; besides, it's only 
 for once ; " and looking with the eye of a sportsman 
 over the hounds, as clustering round Sam Caird's 
 horse they came suddenly round the comer, "a 
 beautiful lot they are, surely. Call them harriers ! 
 Why I never set eyes on a likelier pack of fox- 
 hounds ! " 
 
 The noble master had arrived in a brougham by 
 himself; but a light dog-cart bearing his crest and 
 coronet had conveyed to the meet two visitors at the 
 Castle, foreigners apparently. Both were smoking 
 and extensively got up ; one, the younger, evidently 
 in a state of great excitement, all anxiety to witness 
 an English " chase of the fox," and burning to dis- 
 tinguish himself as a horseman. This was the Count 
 Heitansek, a German nobleman ; the other a Yankee 
 officer of high rank in his own country, G-eneral 
 Lucius Junius A. Grubb. The General was a heavy, 
 coarse man, with large hands, rather dirty, a husky 
 
 z2 
 
340 The Bag77ian, 
 
 voice, a small, restless eye, and a damp, unpleasant 
 expression of countenance. He had come to England 
 ostensibly on a diplomatic mission, but in reality to 
 palm off upon gullible John Bull a swindling Cali- 
 fornian gold-mining speculation, in which object he 
 had succeeded entirely to his own satisfaction. Pos- 
 sessing, in common with most of his countrymen, 
 unbounded assurance and the highest credentials, he 
 had called personally on her Majesty's principal 
 ministers, of whom Lord Bagwash was one, and, on 
 the strength of a vague and undefined hope of " one 
 day seeing him at the Castle," the G-eneral had pre- 
 sented himself on an elastic visit at that hospitable 
 abode a few days previously. His lordship — the most 
 courteous of men — was sorely put out and greatly 
 disgusted, but what could he do ? He could not turn 
 him out, but he could give him a mount, and he did 
 —on one of his splendid carriage horses. The 
 General's steed was a showy beast, and good of his 
 sort, but he was not altogether a hunter ; he stood 
 sixteen three, iron grey, with a Roman nose, a ewe 
 neck, and a bang tail down to his hocks, had capital 
 knee action and no more mouth than an ox. His rider, 
 who had mounted at the cross roads, showed already 
 signs of considerable discomfort. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE BUN. 
 
 The hounds at once moved down the lane, heads and 
 sterns up, and apparently ready to break away at 
 short notice. Ben opening a gate to the right, the 
 pack passed rapidly through, and hardly waiting for 
 the huntsman's accustomed cheer and wave of the 
 hand, swung rapidly round, picking up the scent as 
 they swung, and went off in a southerly direction 
 directly upwind. 
 
 There was a tremendous bustle and hustle, of 
 course, every one trying to get a good place at the 
 start. Our friend Mr. Stubbs, touching his horse 
 lightly with the spur, bounded over the low fence to 
 
342 The Bag77ian. 
 
 the left, and rattled down at best pace almost in a line 
 with the leading hounds. 
 
 " Why ! they've got on a fox," said young 
 Sydney. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied his friend ; " they 
 often do." 
 
 " Not that way, master ; ride to the left," said 
 Slender Billy to his patron ; " I seed him turn under 
 the 'edge. He's gone Bolsover ways." 
 
 Billy had not seen this, but he was right, neverthe- 
 less ; the fox had turned, and was now heading straight 
 for the well-remembered forest. 
 
 Mr. Wood, availing himself of the hint, turned his 
 horse's head in the direction indicated, and, closely 
 followed by the count, joined Mr. Stubbsatthe corner 
 of the field, where an accommodating gate stood wide 
 open. 
 
 Meanwhile the Greneral's horse — 
 
 " Right glad to miss 
 The lumbering of the wheels, " 
 
 had gone off at score, his head down and his great 
 knees showing at every plunge above his ears like the 
 pistons of a steam engine ; his rider, with toes turned 
 out, and hands on a level with his eyes, vainly striving 
 
The Run. .343 
 
 to guide or stop him. The swamp, however, into 
 which he floundered speedily effected the latter ob- 
 ject ; and jusfc as the hounds and the leading portion 
 of the field disappeared over the brow of Crowhurst 
 Hill, the gallant General found himself mid-leg deep 
 in the black liquid slime of a bottomless bog, his 
 horse's outstretched neck and head just appearing 
 above the " verdant mud." After a long struggle he 
 emerged, wet, dirty, sore, and sulky : truly my lord 
 was avenged ! The German, who did not lack pluck, 
 and was well-mounted, followed close upon Mr. Wood, 
 his elbows out, his coat-tails flying in the wind, in a 
 state of uproarious excitement. Our friend was in 
 considerable danger of being ridden down, but for- 
 tunately for him both steeds rose in the air at the 
 same moment at the same gap, and cannoning midway, 
 the lightest — poor Heitansek — was shot into a soft 
 ploughed field, with little damage but much dirt. 
 Stubbs and Wood, and a few of the best mounted of 
 the field kept their place some sixty or seventy yards 
 to the right of the hounds, taking their fences as they 
 came in gallant style, but husbanding their horses for 
 what they felt must be a trying day. The body of 
 the field meanwhile rattled along the high road, or 
 the grass that skirted it, parallel with their course, at 
 
344 The Bagman. 
 
 no great distance to the left. The hounds literally 
 raced, carrying a capital head, fleet as swallows, mute 
 as mice. 
 
 "By all that's beautiful," quoth Stubbs, "if this be 
 not ilie real thing, it's wonderfully )ike it ; but," 
 added he, the exulting gleam fading from his jolly 
 face, **it's not the real thing — sheep dogs could run 
 that scent ; I could run it myself ; it's a sin to waste 
 hounds' noses on it,'* and, squeezing his hat over 
 his eyes, and taking a pull at the young horse, he 
 drove him at the low wall that bounded the field be- 
 fore him. 
 
 "Not there!— not there, Stubbs !" shouted Tom 
 Haylock. " Not there, for your life ! " but too late ; 
 the good horse had already risen at the wall whicli 
 bounded a deep almost empty pond beyond. Nothing 
 but great presence of mind and admirable horseman- 
 ship saved Stubbs from a serious accident. He had 
 ridden at the fence much faster than he ought ; his 
 horse w^as young, and, truth to say, though over sixty, 
 so was his master. Becoming aware of his danger as 
 he rose to the leap, the rider cleverly shifted his whip 
 to his left hand, and throwing his body as far back- 
 ward as possible, seized the cantle of the saddle with 
 his right. Happily, a foot or two of mud had col- 
 
The Run, 345 
 
 lected at the bottom of the pond, which, moistened 
 by the recent rains, broke the force of the fall, arid 
 the rider's great strength enabled him to keep his 
 seat. Such, however, was the strain that the saddle, 
 firmly held by triple girth, was broken in the middle 
 and doubled up as it were under him. The horse 
 scrambled out snorting and terrified, but unhurt, and 
 Stubbs, muttering something to himself expressive of 
 " wonder whether he would ever grow older," speedily 
 regained his place. 
 
 The hounds were still running at a rattling pace, 
 but hardly that at which they had started. The 
 distance had told, and it must be confessed they 
 straggled considerably. Fine noses were of little 
 use, and the old hunting hounds were fain to follow 
 the dashing puppies as best they might. Of the 
 field the majority were fairly beaten, and one by one 
 dropped behind till only about a score were with the 
 hounds, and each of that number inwardly prayed 
 for a check, if but for a minute, to enable their 
 blown horses to catch their wind. This, however, 
 was not to be ; a view halloo a short distance ahead 
 told that the fox had entered Bryerly Copse ; and in 
 another minute the hounds, no longer mute, were 
 making the old oaks ring again with their cheery 
 
.346 The Bagman. 
 
 music as they ran parallel with the road which 
 bounds it. Leaving the friendly covert and thick 
 underwood, the ferns and tangled briars, many parts 
 of which might well have afforded shelter, and still 
 running right into the eye of the wind, the bold fox 
 headed directly for Thorney Wood. Entering by 
 the beeches at the north side, like one that knew the 
 country from cubhood, he ran right through the 
 covert, through the gorse at the bottom, and swim- 
 ming the now flooded river below, was viewed just as, 
 about to vanish, he reached the summit of the rising 
 ground on the opposite side. 
 
 It was a gallant sight to see the four or five leading 
 men charge the water that day. The recent rains 
 had swelled it into something like a river, narrow, 
 ^jerhaps, but not the less dangerous on that account. 
 Full to the brim, the turbid, brown stream rolled 
 rapidly along ; and it required no small amount of 
 pluck in Tom Haylock, who was leading, to drive his 
 horse at it, but he did so, and with more or less 
 assumed eagerness the others followed. It is not 
 a pleasant sensation to find your horse disappearing 
 under you, little but his head and ears visible, snort- 
 iBg with fear, and swimming rapidly but uneasily, 
 whilst the cold water rises well-nigh to your hips, 
 
The Run. 347 
 
 and searches every aperture in boots and breeches. 
 Still the gallant few struggled on, and reaching the 
 opposite shore landed safely, and followed as best 
 they might the dripping pack, which had preceded 
 them by a few moments only, each, hound having 
 shaken himself as he landed, showering the drops 
 around him like a trundled mop. 
 
 Scarcely had the fox put the brow between him- 
 self and his pursuers than a new danger awaited 
 him. A red, rough-coated, tailless, shepherd's dog, 
 viewing the draggled beast as he sped wearily along, 
 rushed at him open-mouthed. Bow, wow, wow ! 
 bow, wow ! At the iusult and unprovoked attack, 
 all the savage instinct of the beast was aroused. 
 Like the wearied, jaded Deloraine wlien he " marked 
 the crane on the baron's crest," and recognized his 
 feudal enemy, " no whit weary did he seem." With 
 arched back and bloodshot, angry eye, glistening 
 with hate and rage, every hair on his dank body 
 standing on end, the wild animal ^waited not the 
 attack. With a wicked snarl from the bottom of 
 his throat, he met the dog more than halfway, and 
 as they closed made his sharp fangs meet through 
 the foreleg. Wough, ivougli, wough ! pen-a-neek ; pen- 
 a-neeh ! yelped the cur, as he fled limping back to 
 
34^ The Bagman. 
 
 his kennel at the homestead the other side of the 
 field. The fox turned short to the left, and running 
 low down the furrow gained the hedge on that side, 
 whence he pursued his course unobserved. This 
 apparently untoward accident saved him.* At the 
 scene of the conflict the hounds threw up, and while 
 they were yet puzzling over the mixed scent, Count 
 Heitansek, who had gallantly breasted the brook, 
 still thirsting for fame and, notwithstanding various 
 heavy falls, uproarious and jubilant, was in the midst 
 of them. Catching sight of the retreating cur as he 
 jumped the palings, and mistaking him for the fox,, 
 he seized the opportunity of immortalizing himself. 
 " Tailoo ! taleo ! Get avaa — oldard — hoop — yochs — 
 tailho ! " yelled he, vociferating, as best he might, 
 all the sounds his quick ear had caught during the 
 run, and riding, as he yelled, in the direction of the 
 retreating sheep-dog. The hounds, though his 
 language was a mystery, comprehended his action ; 
 their heads were up in a second, and Volatile and 
 Vanity, catching sight of the red back of the dog as 
 \t vanished beyond the palings, dashed away, followed 
 
 * This the reader will observe is the third time my life was- 
 daved by the intervention of enemies. — Ei. 
 
The Run. 349 
 
 by lialf the pack. Old Caird, with Ben, however, 
 now appeared, and taking in the situation at half a 
 glance, lost no time in cursing the German, but 
 blowing his horn recalled the scattered pack, and, 
 aided by his whip, once more put them on the track 
 of the beaten fox, now heading directly for the 
 forest, which, however, he did not enter, holding on 
 as if he had a point beyond, though what that might 
 be no one could guess. As the reader knows, a 
 considerable brook runs at the bottom of Thorney 
 "Wood. 
 
 Was our friend Mr. Stubbs among the gallant band 
 that crossed the brook r He was not. During the 
 run he might have been heard muttering to himself, 
 or remarking to a neighbour the extraordinary know- 
 ledge of the country apparently possessed by a strange 
 fox ; but when the forest, the gorse, and the woods 
 were alike left behind, and the draggled, weary beast 
 was seen struggling up the opposite bank of the river, 
 he reined his horse up suddenly, exclaiming, " I 
 thought so ! I knew it all along ! " and striking him 
 with the spurs he rode off at the best pace he could 
 command in a direct line for the G-range. Crashing 
 through the rotten fence before him he found himself 
 on the high road, and not stopping to pay the toll 
 
35^ The Bagma7i. 
 
 galloped along the grass at the side till he arrived at 
 his own gate, just in time to see the fox, dead beat, 
 and with scarce strength to surmount the old wall 
 which bounded the premises, creep into the stone 
 kennel, and turning round lie exhausted, his red- 
 tongue hanging from his mouth, panting for dear life. 
 Springing with more agility than his figure promised 
 from his reeking steed, he flung the rein to a passing 
 labourer, and planted himself before the kennel, just 
 as Einglet and Eallywood, Bondsman and Butterfly, 
 followed by five or six couple more, topped the wall, 
 and, thirsting for blood, dashed across the little pad- 
 dock which lay between it and the kennel beneath 
 the elms. Crack ! crack ! went the honest yeoman's- 
 whip. Crack ! crack ! ! crack ! ! ! " G-et away, 
 hounds ! Gret away ! To think that it should come 
 to this ; that they should murder my Charlie ! '^ 
 Crack ! crack ! ! Wow ! wow ! "I wouldn't hurt 
 you, but — " crack, crack ! '' get away, get away ! ! ! 
 Oh, here you are, Ben ; thank goodness ! . . . . 
 Well, if ever I go after a bag fox again ! — it's lucky I 
 did, though, this time; but zfever I go again. It's 
 fast enough, I must allow ; but it's not the right thing 
 — not for any one who calls himself a sportsman, at 
 
The Run. 351 
 
 all events; and as for Charlie, I'll never tie him up 
 again. ; he may stay or go as he pleases ; and if he 
 ever runs again before a pack of hounds, it shall be 
 after a fair find, and no odds against him but the 
 honest scent he leaves behind him ! " 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PEINTED Br TATLOfi AND CO., 
 LITTLE QUEEK STEEET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS,- 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 Now Ready, price 55-, 
 
 TALES AND SKETCHES. 
 
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 '* In the papers called * The Fox at Home,' ' Buck Shooting,' ' Three 
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