Chapter XXXIX: Part II (14)

~At~ Troy, Kansas, November 27, Dr. Dinsmore, with a 32-40, 185 calibre rifle, did some fine shooting at 500 yards. The score in detail was: 5, 5, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5--48; 5, 5, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5--49; total, 97 out of a possible 100 points. This, with so small a calibre as a 32, is extraordinarily fine work. In fact it would be considered fine with any kind of a rifle. The Doctor also shot a fine score with the same rifle off-hand, at 200 yards, his scores being: 78, 85, 88, 82, 88--421--possible 500 points.

* * * * *

~W. W. Bennett~, on Thanksgiving Day, at Walnut Hill, made the following scores at 50 yards on the standard target with revolver: 92, 92, 89--273; and on December 1, made the following scores, same conditions: 94, 89, 89, 89, 89--450.

* * * * *

~At~ the Southern California Trap Tournament, held at Riverside, Cal., Mr. M. Chick, of San Diego, won the Selby champion medal for the third time against all comers in Southern California--killing 88 out of a possible 100; 50 single and 25 double rises. During the meeting Mr. Chick shot at 160 blue-rocks and broke 148.

* * * * *

~The~ Wichita, Kansas, Trap Tournament was held under very adverse circumstances, the weather being very disagreeable. Some fine shooting was done by Messrs. Stancer, Swiggett, Brown and Smyth. Mr. Stancer shot at 396 and killed 358, only missing 38, which is an exceptionally fine record.

* * * * *

~The~ contest for the Standard gold medal at Cleveland, Ohio, between the West End, Rockford and Locksley gun clubs, resulted in a victory for the West End Club, the total scores being: West End, 171; Rockford, 158; Locksley, 145. The medal has to be won three times before it becomes the property of either club, and until won, the highest score on the winning team wears it. The same day the West End Club held their badge shoot, which was won by Mr. W. Bell, who also wears the Standard badge for three months.

* * * * *

~There~ were about 200 present to witness the match at Starr’s Driving Park, Baltimore, Md., between Mr. Fred Kell, of Baltimore, and Mr. W. Graham, the Englishman. Graham held one hand behind him. The match was for $100 a side. It resulted as follows: Fred Kell, 20; Wm. Graham, 20. The conditions were twenty-five birds. The twenty-second bird of Graham’s was lost through his going to the trap with his gun unloaded, and calling pull, which cost him the match.

* * * * *

~The~ Rod and Gun Rifle Club of Springfield, Mass., paid a friendly visit, by invitation, to the Broad Brook, Ct., Rifle Club, recently. A very enjoyable day was spent at the targets and also at the dinner table. The Broad Brook Club will visit Springfield at an early date.

* * * * *

~The~ celebrated Zettler Rifle Club, of New York City, have a champion medal. Captain B. Walther won it the second time with 115 out of a possible 120.

* * * * *

~At~ Walnut Hill, Boston, Mass., a short time ago, Mr. J. B. Fellows, the well-known amateur rifle and pistol shot, made the following scores at 50 yards with a 22-calibre pistol: 93, 92, 90, 88, 93--456. Mr. W. W. Bennett holds the professional record for same distance with a total of 470 points.

* * * * *

~Major James P. Frost~, Brigade Inspector of Rifle Practice, M. V. M., has obtained permission to organize a rifle team from the Massachusetts State troops to go to Europe next summer to compete against teams across the ocean. It is proposed to leave about the middle of June, and to be gone a month or six weeks.

* * * * *

~The~ Schuetzen-Verein, of San Antonio, Texas, held their tournament in November. The prizes aggregated in value $642. In the off-hand team contest the winners were:

San Antonia S. V., score 350, $17; Cuero Rifle Club, 326, $10.20; San Antonio Rifle and Gun Club, 308, $6.80.

In the Individual contest the winners were:

Ed Steves, Jr., 93; S. V. Pfeuffer, 92; Alois Altmann, 87; Ern Seffel, 86; Earnest Steves, 86; G. Altmann, 84; W. J. Suter, 84; A. Steves, 84; A. Holeyapfel, 84; R. Krause, 84; L. Simon, 83; P. Nulm, 83; E. Gruene, 83; F. Scholl, 83; I. P. Samer, 82; O. Forcke, 82; Chas. Hummel, 82; A. Altmann, 81; W. Forcke, 81; H. Faust, 80; Ad. Wendler, 80; Dr. A. Herff, 79; H. Arnold, 78; J. Muschel, 78; A. Guenther, 78; Ed. Mittendorf, 78; T. Herff, 77; H. O. Journeay, 77; E. Dosch, 77; H. Vanseckel, 75; H. Clemens, 75; H. L. Fowler, 74.

There were 94 individual riflemen who took part in this contest. The conditions were, 5 shots at 150 yards, muzzle rest, and 5 shots at 250 yards, standard target.

* * * * *

~At~ the last meeting of the Houston, Texas, Schuetzen-Verein the following scores were made at 200 yards, three shots at rest, possible 30: W. Kamin, 27 points won at 117 yards, off-hand, two shots, possible 30; W. Keiler, 29; O. Erichson, 29.

* * * * *

~The~ American Field Championship Cup, won by L. S. Carter, is a magnificent piece of work. It was to have cost originally $200; but the artist elaborated his designs, so that $300 will be nearer the figure.

* * * * *

~A friendly~ rifle match was shot at Troy, Kansas, between Dr. R. S. Dinsmore, of Troy, and Dr. G. I. Royce, of Topeka. Both used Dr. Dinsmore’s rifle. The scores were: Dr. Dinsmore, 78, 78, 79, 77, 80--392; Dr. Royce, 72, 70, 76, 76, 74, 76--368.

* * * * *

~Company G.~, California National Guard, is considered the crack rifle company in the State. At the late State shoot 43 men made 1,488 points out of 2,150.

* * * * *

~Mr. J. A. Huggins~, of Pittsburgh, Penn., made in a rifle match at 200 yards, off-hand, with a 32-calibre rifle, within the rules of the N. R. A., the unprecedented score of 440 points out of a possible 500 in 50 shots. The same day he also made 436, same conditions. These scores beat all previous records, being the record for 50 and 100 shots. The American standard (Hinman) off-hand target was used.

* * * * *

~Officers~ of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals stopped a rabbit coursing meeting that was in progress at Hempstead, L. I. There were over 100 visitors present, among them Mr. and Mrs. S. D. Ripley, Mr. and Mrs. A. Belmont, Jr., Mrs. S. S. Sands, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Dodge, Miss Morgan and Miss Bird.

Mr. A. Belmont, Jr., had expended a great deal of time and money to make the meeting a success. The following gentlemen appeared before Squire Clowes: A. Belmont, Jr., Theo. Rutherford Beach, John Doty, William Reardon. They were charged with wilfully, unlawfully, wickedly and unjustifiably mutilating and killing an animal. The trial was set for the following Friday, when the court room was crowded. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty, and there was a great outburst of applause when the verdict was announced.

It is to be hoped that Mr. Bergh will see that to follow in the footprints of his late uncle in all things is not the proper thing. No one will assist him more than the true sportsman. But for him to array himself against the legions of true sportsmen is sheer folly, as he will do himself and the cause he represents more harm than good. If such sport can be stopped it is hard to say where it will stop.

* * * * *

~Pistol~ and revolver shooting is having quite a boom throughout the country. At St. Louis, recently, some fine shooting with a pistol has been done, Mr. L. V. D. Perrett making the following scores at 50 yards on a Standard American target: 87, 85, 87, 83, 86, 82, 91, 86, 80, 87--854.

* * * * *

~The~ Miller Rifle Club of Hoboken, N. J., and Our Own Rifle Club of Newark, had a match at the Miller’s quarters, Hoboken, recently. The target used was the Zettler ring. The scores were: Our Own Rifle Club, 2,380; Miller Rifle Club, 2,356.

* * * * *

~Mr. E. C. Mohrstadt~ won the handsome gold medal of the St. Louis Pistol Club, with the good average of 81-4--11; Fred A. Todde second, with 80-8--13; W. Bauer third. Mr. Bauer made the highest single score of 93 points out of possible 100. They will hold a tournament July 15-19, 1889, when $700 will be offered in prizes.

* * * * *

~At~ Dover, N. H., November 29, the following scores were made at 200 yards off-hand, with match rifles: H. M. Wiggan, 100 shots, 82, 89, 82, 80, 81, 87, 80, 88, 79, 73--821; J. B. Stevens, Jr., 90 shots, 73, 82, 73, 80, 78, 67, 77, 80, 78--697; G. H. Wentworth, 60 shots, 86, 91, 79, 88, 84, 92--520.

* * * * *

~The~ following were the best scores made by the Zettler Rifle Club, December 11, 10 shots each, gallery target and distance: G. Zimmerman, 115; L. Flach, 115; M. B. Engel, 115; F. Lindkloster, 114; J. H. Brown, 113; A. Bertrandt, 113.

* * * * *

~A team~ match was shot December 1, at Springfield, N. J., between teams captained by E. D. Miller and C. Johnson; teams of three men, 50 clay pigeons each. The scores were: Miller’s team--E. Miller, 43; A. Sickly, 43; W. Sopher, 38--123. Johnson’s team--C. Johnson, 39; I. M. Roll, 40; D. Conover, 34--112.

* * * * *

~The~ Williamsburgh Schuetzen Gesellschaft elected these officers at their annual meeting: Captain, Charles Horney; first lieutenant, Geb. Krauss; second lieutenant, A. Hoffman; secretary, J. Richards; treasurer, K. Sohleich; first shooting-master, G. Kleinbut; second shooting-master, W. Horney.

ROWING.

~The~ first intercolonial university eight-oared race was rowed October 6, on the Lower Yarra course, from Humbug Beach to the Gasworks, a course of about two miles and a half in length. The universities represented were Sidney, Adelaide, and Melbourne. Sidney struck the water first, but Melbourne and Adelaide dashed off with the lead, the former at 38, and Adelaide rowing at 39. The latter’s coxswain steered badly at first. Melbourne gradually went to the front, reaching the winning post first in 13m 5s., Adelaide four lengths to the bad, and Sidney about six lengths further behind.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the Fairmount Rowing Club of Philadelphia was held last month. The election resulted as follows: President, E. B. Pyfer; vice-president, J. W. Harrison; corresponding secretary, J. Watermeyer; financial secretary, L. C. Moore; treasurer, C. Pressendanz; captain, G. W. Mitchell; Coxswain, C. Tierney; directors, W. Brownell, E. F. Brownell, C. Pressendanz, N. C. Upton.

* * * * *

~The~ Vesper Boat Club of Philadelphia at its annual election selected the following officers: President, A. R. Parsons; vice-president, H. Thomas; treasurer, C. F. Grim; recording secretary, B. Hooley; corresponding secretary, G. King; Captain, G. S. James; first lieutenant, G. Hooley; second lieutenant, J. Hutchinson; third lieutenant, H. W. Mende; house committee, J. Leibert, T. Park; inquiry committee, F. Munson, G. Hooley, H. Thomas; naval delegate board, A. R. Parsons; financial committee, A. F. Cottingham, J. Hutchison and G. Hooley. The club is flourishing.

* * * * *

~The~ Mystic Boat Club of Newark, N. J., elected the following officers for the year: President, H. M. Darcy; secretary, F. W. Mercer; captain, F. H. Glaze; lieutenant, A. J. Barclie; trustees, E. H. Osborne, C. L. Winters, F. Barclie, S. Depue and S. Durand.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the Manayunk, Penn., Rowing Association resulted in the election of the following officers: President, J. A. Maguire; vice-president, G. Martin; secretary, F. Wall; treasurer, F. Milon; steward, M. McLaughlin; captain, J. W. Caffrey; lieutenant, P. W. Maxwell; directors, G. Martin, G. Cassidy, F. Milon, J. Wall and M. McLaughlin.

* * * * *

~All~ previous individual mileage records of the Minnesota Boat Club have been beaten by Mr. Herbert W. Brown, who rowed 1,135 miles during the season of 1888 just closed.

* * * * *

~The~ Dauntless Rowing Club elected the following board of officers for the present year: President, J. H. Redfield; first vice-president, T. H. Froehlich; second vice-president, Chas. M. Hall, Jr.; secretary, E. H. Anderson; treasurer, L. M. Edgar; captain, M. F. Connell; first lieutenant, F. S. Polo; second lieutenant, C. A. McIntyre; trustees, W. F. Bacon, J. J. Duff and F. F. Burke.

* * * * *

~At~ the annual meeting of the Catlin Boat Club of Chicago the following officers were elected: President, Charles Catlin; vice-president, Harry A. Cronin; secretary and treasurer, T. P. Hallinan; lieutenant, James McCormick; captain and trainer, Charles Goff. The president and vice-president were elected as delegates to the Mississippi Valley Rowing Association, and Messrs. Harris, Huehl and T. W. Reading were chosen as delegates to the Chicago Navy. The Catlin Boat Club is in a prosperous condition, having a membership of forty.

* * * * *

~The~ Yale Freshmen have challenged the Harvard Freshmen to an eight-oared two-mile straightaway race, to be rowed at New London next June. For several years the Yale Freshmen crews have challenged the Harvard Freshmen, but the latter have persistently declined, fearing that it would develop material for the Yale University boat. There is little prospect that Harvard will change her policy toward Yale.

* * * * *

~Both~ the Yale and Harvard crews have begun systematic training, which will increase in severity as the season advances. Much is expected by Harvard men of the tank, which has lately been completed, and which will put them on an equal footing with Yale in the matter of preliminary training.

* * * * *

~Much~ interest has been aroused among college men by reports that a race had been arranged between Cambridge, Eng., and Yale, to be rowed April 14. At Yale it is said that no negotiations had been begun with Cambridge, but something would undoubtedly be done to bring about a race. The date announced, April 17, is out of the question, inasmuch as the severe winter prevents all outdoor practice. The time best suited to the rowing men here would be during the long vacation. But that might not suit the Englishmen. Altogether it will be a hard matter to arrange a race which will be fair to both contestants.

* * * * *

~Intercollegiate~ boating has received an added impetus by the decision of Cornell, Columbia, and the University of Pennsylvania, to row an annual race at New London about the same time as the other ’Varsity races. The plan was originated by Columbia, and on December 12, E. Klapp, representing Columbia, met T. G. Hunter, of the University of Pennsylvania, and C. G. Psotta, of Cornell, at Philadelphia, and an agreement was drawn up and signed by the three representatives, stipulating for an annual three-mile race between eight-oared crews with coxswains, to be held between June 10 and 25, on the Thames at New London, the exact date to be named on or before April 1. Columbia has also been invited to contest for the “Childs’ Cup” with Cornell and the University of Pennsylvania, but will probably decline, because great extra expense would be involved. The Harvard-Columbia race will be rowed this year as usual, as it was only set aside last year by the consent of both colleges.

SKATING.

~The~ National Amateur Skating Association of the United States held its annual meeting last December, and elected the following officers for 1889: President, G. L. M. Sacks, M. A. C.; vice-president, Gus C. Walton, N. Y. A. C.; secretary, S. J. Montgomery; treasurer, J. B. Story; captain, W. B. Curtis; first lieutenant, G. D. Phillips; second lieutenant, H. M. Banks, Jr.

The association announced its determination to hold its fourth annual amateur championship meeting in the vicinity of New York City, Jan. 17, and following days. The programme was as follows:

Jan. 17.--220-yards and 5-mile races.

Jan. 18.--1-mile and 10-mile races.

Jan. 19.--Figure skating.

This is what is now arranged and intended, but as the association has no control over wind and weather, it cannot guarantee a strict execution of its programme. The committee can only say they will endeavor to give the contests as above announced. If on either of the announced days no good ice can be found, the whole programme will be postponed from day to day until there is good ice.

The events open to the amateur skaters of the world are: Figure skating, 220-yards, 1-mile, 5-mile and 10-mile races. Gold medal to first, silver medal to second, and bronze medal to third in each contest. Entrance-fee, $1 for each man for each event. Skaters unknown to the committee must submit satisfactory proof of their amateur standing. Entries closed Monday, Jan. 14, to S. J. Montgomery, Secretary National Amateur Skating Association, P. O. Box 938, New York City.

It is also probable that there will be special races at quarter-mile and half-mile for prizes offered by president and vice-president.

The following is the programme of the association for figure skating contest. The object of this programme is to set forth the movements of figure-skating so as best to test the proficiency of skaters, and in an order that will economize the strength of the contestants. The movements are arranged under comprehensive, fundamental heads, designed to include everything appertaining to the art. It is to be understood that whenever practicable all movements are to be executed both forward and backward, on right foot and on left. It should be continually borne in mind that _grace_ is the most desirable attribute of artistic skating.

1. Plain forward and backward skating.

2. “Lap foot”--as field step and in cutting circle.

3. Outside edge roll, forward.

4. Outside edge roll, backward.

5. Inside edge roll, forward.

6. Inside edge roll, backward.

7. Figure eight on one foot, forward.

8. Figure eight on one foot, backward.

9. Cross roll, forward.

10. Cross roll, backward.

11. Change of edge roll, forward--commencing
either on outside or inside edge.

12. Change of edge roll, backward--beginning
either on outside or inside edge.

13. (_a_) “On to Richmond;” (_b_) reverse “On to Richmond.”

14. (_a_) “Locomotives,” forward, backward, side-ways--single
and double; (_b_) waltz step (not to be done
on the point of the skate).

15. Spread eagles, inside and outside edges.

16. Curvilinear angles; (_a_) single, double, chain,
and flying threes, beginning on inside or outside
edge; (_b_) turns from outside edge to outside edge,
or from inside edge to inside edge, forward and backward.

17. Grapevines, including “Philadelphia twist,” etc.

18. Toe and heel movements, embracing pivot
circling, toe spins (_pirouettes_), and movements on
both toes, etc.

19. Single flat-foot spins and double-foot whirls.

20. (_a_) Serpentines on one foot and on both feet;
(_b_) change of edge, single and double.

21. Loops and ringlets on inside and outside
edges, simple and in combination.

22. Display of complex movements, at the option of the contestant.

23. Specialties, embracing _original_ and _peculiar_ movements.

* * * * *

~The~ Canadian Amateur Skating Association held their second annual meeting in the Victoria Rink, Montreal, on Nov. 21st, and elected the following officers for the ensuing season: President, Lieut.-Col. Fred Henshaw; first vice-president, Mr. G. Geddes, Toronto; second vice-president, Mr. H. V. Meredith; third vice-president, Mr. L. Pereira, Ottawa; secretary-treasurer, Mr. A. E. Stevenson; council, H. M. Allan, W. G. Ross, J. A. Taylor, J. A. Findlay, F. M. Larmouth, W. D. Aird, L. Rubenstein, R. A. Elliott, F. W. Barlow.

* * * * *

~A race~ for the half-mile skating championship of the world took place at Amsterdam, Holland, on January 8, between Joseph F. Donoghue, of Newburgh, N. Y., and Alexander Von Panschin, of St. Petersburg, Russia. Donoghue fell during the race and Von Panschin won; time, 1 min. 25 3-5 sec. Donoghue afterwards skated over the course against time and covered the half-mile in 1 min. 27 2-5 sec. The next day, January 9, Von Panschin won the one-mile race also. His time was 2 min. 59 sec. The American champion, Donoghue, was second, his time for the mile being exactly three minutes. G. Smart, of England, won the one-mile international professional handicap in 3 min. 9 sec.

SNOW-SHOEING.

~Le Canadian~ Snow-shoe Club, of Montreal, have elected the following officers: President, J. A. St. Julien; first vice-president, E. J. Bedard; second vice-president, Alf. Lussier; secretary, C. O. Lapierre; assistant secretary, W. Pilotte; treasurer, J. E. Clement; committee, L. N. Moreau, A. W. Beauclaire, N. Malette and H. Blanchard. The club decided to hold weekly tramps to Cote des Neiges.

THE KENNEL.

~New York~ (the Westminster Kennel Club) is out with its premium list for its February show. The prizes offered for the dogs in the large dog classes are $20 to first, $10 to second, $5 to third and the club’s medal to fourth. The next grade of classes get $10 to first, $5 to second and medal to third. The specials are valuable, and include the mastiff club cups, valued at $600; the St. Bernard club cups, valued at $140; the kennel prizes of $25 each for the best kennel of four of each of the following breeds: Pointers, mastiffs, St. Bernards, bloodhounds, deer-hounds, greyhounds, foxhounds, hunting-spaniels, beagles and English setters, Irish setters, black-and-tan setters and collies. The inducements are great to exhibitors, and the show bids fair to be as well attended and as successful as heretofore.

* * * * *

~The~ committee of the American Kennel Club held a meeting December 28, 1888, and decided upon the following matters, which are herewith printed for the benefit of the readers of ~Outing~:

1. The American Kennel Club Stud Book, after the completion of the present volume, will be issued annually, will contain a full index, and will be published bound in cloth.

2. Numbers will be assigned upon the receipt of each entry, and will be published monthly in the _American Kennel Gazette_.

3. Registry in the stud book can be made _only_ upon the following conditions:

1. Where sire and dam are already registered or are directly descended from dogs already registered in said book.

2. Where dogs possess an authenticated pedigree, extended back three generations.

3. Where dogs (not eligible under the provisions as above required) have won not less than two first prizes in the regular classes at any show recognized by the American Kennel Club.

4. All entries for the stud book will be published in the issue of the _American Kennel Gazette_ following the receipt of said entry to enable the correction of any errors that may appear.

5. The fee for entry in the stud book will remain as heretofore. Fifty cents for each dog entered.

6. All dogs shown at any show held by a member of the American Kennel Club, and not already registered in the stud book, _must_ be registered in the _American Kennel Gazette_, the fee for such entry will be twenty-five cents.

7. The _American Kennel Gazette_ will be published on the last Thursday of each and every month.

Yours truly,
~A. P. Vredenburgh~, Sec’y.

* * * * *

~The~ following is a list of the dog-show fixtures for February:

The first annual dog show of the Columbus Fancier’s Club, at Columbus, O., will be held at Columbus from February 5 to 8; Thomas R. Sparrow, secretary.

From February 7 to 12, the first annual show of the Hudson River Poultry, Dog and Pet Stock Association, will be held at Newburgh, N. Y. J. H. Drevenstedt, of Washington, N. J., is the secretary.

* * * * *

~The~ Detroit Kennel Club recently lost fifteen valuable dogs that had been raised for stock purposes by a strange epidemic, resembling pneumonia. Examination of the lungs of a number of the dogs was made soon after death, and they all bore evidence of the same disease that characterizes the lungs of human beings who have died from pneumonia. It seems from information received from different parts of the country that the mysterious malady is quite general, and not confined to any given section.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the New England Kennel Club was held recently at its rooms, Hamilton Place, Boston. In token of his long services to the club as treasurer, that pleasant gentleman and enthusiastic spaniel-man, W. O. Partridge, of Boston, was tendered a suitably engrossed testimonial by the club. The following officers were elected for 1889: President, F. B. Fay; vice-president, E. H. Moore; secretary, J. W. Newman; treasurer, Geo. A. Fletcher. Executive committee, the officers and J. E. Thayer, Jean Grosvenor, Frank M. Curtis, J. H. Long, Dr. J. G. W. Werner.

YACHTING.

~The~ Toronto Yacht Club and the Royal Canadian Yacht Club have decided to consolidate, and after May 15 next will be known only as the Royal Canadian Yacht Club.

The fusion of these two organizations will make the Royal Canadian one of the strongest yacht clubs in the world, with a membership of 650.

* * * * *

~Mr. C. D. Mosher~, of Amesbury, Mass., who built the phenomenal launch _Buzz_ last season, whose mile record is 2 min. 8 sec., is now designing a steam yacht twice the size of the _Buzz_, but on the same lines.

* * * * *

~Mr. S. Austin~, Jr., of Philadelphia, has purchased of Mr. Jacob Lorillard his yacht _Anita_. Mr. Austin paid $22,500 for the _Anita_, and Mr. Lorillard is now having designs made for his fiftieth yacht.

Drawn by A. C. Corbould.

“ONE FAIR PURSUER GOES AT IT WHERE THE HUNTSMAN LEADS.”]

~Outing~.

~Vol. XIII.~ MARCH, 1889. ~No. 6.~

FOX-HUNTING.

A DAY IN THE SHIRES.

BY HENRY H. S. PEARSE (“PLANTAGENET”).

There is a touch of original barbarism in all field sports--at least that is what our critics say, and I am prepared to put aside all cause for controversy by admitting without hesitation that there is much truth in the charge. Nay, more, I am even disposed to know the very quality that squeamish sentimentalists condemn, and to regard the spirit of sport in its most ferocious outbursts as the very antithesis of cold-blooded, wanton cruelty.

If proof were required that the most typical hunting-men are not insensible to animal suffering, one need only point to their tender care for horses and hounds, with which they have bonds of sympathy utterly inexplicable to people who are not sportsmen. A keen, bold rider may gallop his horse to a standstill in the rapture of hot pursuit, or put him at an almost impossible leap, staking life and limb and neck of man and beast against the chance of holding a place in the first flight, but when that effort is over his hand will rival a woman’s in the tenderness of its caresses for the noble brute that has answered so generously to touch of whip or spur. This combination of fierce daring and feminine weakness has never been more elegantly expressed than in Whyte Melville’s stirring song, “The Place where the Old Horse Died.” The man who will jest at his own scars, and make light of a broken rib or a dislocated shoulder, can be moved to infinite pity for an injured hunter. But even if the capacity to greatly dare and stoically endure were only to be attained by the sacrifice of sympathy with animal suffering, it would, I fancy, be worth cultivating by any race in danger of overcivilization. Such qualities may be characteristic of original barbarism, but no nation has yet been able to find satisfactory substitutes for them. As tending to their development, there is no pursuit within reach of ordinary citizens in an old and populous country that can for a moment compare with the moving accidents of fox-hunting. Very few sportsmen, however, stand in need of this excuse for the passion that possesses them.

A defense of the chase on high moral grounds would sound to them very like cant, and a fox-hunter worthy of the name may well dispense with the services of an apologist. If there be any foreigner who believes that the sturdy manhood of Great Britain is in danger of being played out, let him make a tour of the rural districts of the island from November to March. Taking a map of ordinary scale, one cannot put his finger on any spot outside the densely peopled cities, between Land’s End and John O’Groats, and say, “Here is a place where the music of hounds is never heard!” Every county has its two or three, and some a dozen, packs of fox-hounds, hunting here up to the outskirts of busy towns surrounded by networks of railways, and there amid the stillness and silence of mighty mountain ranges far from “the madding crowd.” On rugged heights where no horse could find secure foothold, their loved bell-like chorus may be heard cleaving the thin air and echoing from rock to rock, with the accompaniment of shrill cheers from sturdy hillmen who follow on foot from morn to even-tide without sign of fatigue. These, however, are rather the by-ways of sport, and to make acquaintance with fox-hunting in its more conventional phases one must needs follow great Nimrod’s footsteps to the classic fields where Hugo Meynell, John Ward, Osbaldiston, Assheton Smith, Anstruther Thomson, and many other masters of woodcraft graduated. Not there will one find the science of hunting practiced in its highest development; but there, alone of all countries in the world, may one see the art of riding to hounds illustrated in every variety of style.

To describe hound work, pure and simple, with the incidents of a long hunting run, I should have to take as my theme a fixture in some remote provincial hunt, where plough and pasture alternate with deep woodlands. A day with wild Jack Parker, of the Sinnington, and his trencher-fed pack, among Yorkshire dales; or with Mr. Lawrence’s half-bred Welch hounds in the coverts of Monmouthshire, or with any of the Devonshire fox-hounds, where open moors and densely wooded coombes are the haunts of foxes, wild as their native hills, would best illustrate the science of woodcraft, and all the minutiæ about which Beckford, Delmé, Radcliffe, and the author of “Notitia Venatica” discoursed so learnedly.

We might then begin with the earth-stopper, on his lonely midnight rounds in storms of snow or rain. Following the track of his ambling pony, and guided by the pale gleam of his lantern through the mists, we might watch him as he bent to work under the dripping twigs of bramble and hazel, or rolled a great stone into the mouth of some cavernous hole among a “clitter of rocks,” as they say in the west country. We might learn from him much concerning the dissipated habits of the red race--male members of which follow very much the customs of men about town, devoting their nights to feasting or flirtation and their days to rest and sleep. In regard to the latter, no bachelor of the Albany could be more fastidious in the choice of quarters. Should a belated worker find the door of his regular abode closed against him, he always knows where to seek cozy shelter in the warmest corner of a gorse covert, or the dry top-growth of a grassy hedgerow. In the spring-time, when his “fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,” he is apt to wander far from his familiar haunts and make his bed wherever the first flush of dawn lights on him. All these are habits of which the earth-stopper, in his nocturnal watches, takes careful note, and he knows the exact hour of every season when improvised doors should be stopped at night to keep the gay old dog out, or put to after daybreak to shut the vixen securely in.

About such details as earth-stoppers and their duties, however, the merry sportsmen who throng the midland shires concern themselves only when a brilliant burst is brought to a premature end by the cunning fox slipping into a drain that has been overlooked. Hunting the dray of a wild rover from his midnight foraging grounds to some distant lair is also a tedious detail of woodcraft in which the Meltonian would disdain to take part, even if he could tear himself from his bed at the chill hour when our grandfathers’ sport began. There are not many countries nowadays so scantily stocked that this preliminary to a find need be resorted to, but in some very provincial corners of the land, and notably among Welsh mountains and Cumberland fells, the custom is still pursued. Fashionable midland fields would dwindle to very small proportions indeed if half a dozen coverts were drawn blank, and the ardor of thirsting youths would ooze away if they had to watch hounds patiently puzzling out a cold scent for an hour or two before the fun, fast and furious, began. Yet their languid regard for creature comforts is only a harmless affectation after all. The first note of horn or hound sends the hot blood tingling through their veins, and when once they have thrown off the cloak of conventional unconcern, it must be a formidable obstacle that can balk them, and a long run that takes the keen edge off their rivalry.

If we elect to throw in our lot with glorious Tom Firr and the Quorn; to meet Will Goodall with his Pytchley bitches at Weedon or Crick; Frank Gillard and his bright Belvoir tans at Piper Hole, where the “partickler purty landscape” of Belvoir Vale unfolds a pleasant prospect before us; or Gillson and the Cottesmore at Langham’s far-famed Ranksborough gorse, there will be nearly the same brilliant galaxy of sporting celebrities, only with a different setting. Let us make for ourselves, then, an imaginary fixture at some centre that is surrounded by the most characteristic features of all these favored countries, and watch the gay cavalcades from different points converge at the trysting-place.

A few farmers, well mounted, neatly attired in black coats and workmanlike cords, and bearing about them no visible signs of depression, are first to appear at the meet. Then follow rough-riders of the Dick Christian order, on raw young ones, qualifying for hunters’ certificates, or queer-tempered animals that need some schooling yet, though the season is far spent, and many a hard run ought to have taken the devil out of them. The Leicestershire rough-rider is _sui generis_, and his exact counterpart is not to be found in any other hunting country that I know of. Long training has made him amenable to every form of discipline exacted by the M. F. H., and he is never out of his proper place, no matter what other people may be doing. He betakes himself now to a quiet out-of-the-way corner where hounds are not likely to come within reach of his restive horse’s heels, and whenever the rush for a start may begin, he will display marvelous tact in getting clear of the ruck to cut out a line for himself. His nether limbs have been battered out of all shapeliness by frequent fractures, so that he seems to have no grip of the saddle, and his hands look too rigid to yield the fraction of an inch in play; but somehow he has the knack of sitting like a jackanapes, never off, and he can squeeze the veriest jade over a stiff line of country.

There is a blaze of scarlet along the lane yonder, and flashes of white between the thorn fences as the hounds are brought up, followed by groups of gorgeously arrayed gallants. The huntsman and his whips are turned out in the perfection of neatness, their breeches spotless, and every item of equipment scrupulously bright. The twenty couples of hounds have the glossy bloom of faultless condition, as if this were only the beginning instead of the fag end of a hard season. And now the throng grows denser every minute. The master threads his way through a maze of vehicles and a mass of horsemen, exchanging courteous greetings with friends or strangers alike. Four-in-hands, tandems, and smart buggies come in quick succession to choke the crowded highway. Covert-hacks are dexterously exchanged for hunters. Fair damsels throw aside wraps and newmarkets to appear in all the bewitching simplicity of dainty habits, or the more pronounced combinations of masculine cut, with open coats, snowy vests, folded cravats, masher collars, and all the latest triumphs of sartorial ingenuity. There is mounting in hot haste, for the word has been given to draw a favorite gorse brake not two miles away, and that is a sure find. The February sun-shine is screened by soft clouds, “the wind in the east most forbiddingly keen,” and all the conditions favorable to a brilliant run, if only a stout traveler can be induced to lead pursuers across the fair pastures that stretch far away to a hazy line of coverts yonder. The keen-faced huntsman, lithe, wiry and active as a boy yet, gets his hounds through the thicket of restless heels with quiet coolness which no confusion can ruffle. Then begins an eager rush for short cuts to the covert-side, only restrained by the master’s imperative “Hold hard, gentlemen! Let hounds go first, if you please.” A Yorkshire dealer, who has been extolling the young horse he bestrides as a wonderful fencer who does not “jump from here to there, but from here to yonder,” begins looking already by way of putting these exceptional leaping powers to the proof, but he will have quite enough of that in the legitimate course of things before the day is over.

At length the foremost squadrons are marshaled quietly, in compact order, beside a five-acre brake--all keeping a little down wind so that the fox may be forced to break covert towards that inviting stretch of verdant pastures with its heavy thorn fences, tall bullfinches, stiff oxen and gleaming brook, brimful from recent rains. If kindly fortune should take us that way, how soon the field will be squandered, the faint-hearted follower stopped, and the reckless brought to grief! There is little danger that hounds will chop their fox before he can get well away. He must be a sound sleeper indeed if the tramp of five hundred horses and the voices of his foes have not roused him to alert action before our huntsman’s “Loo in yoi, wind him, bo-oys!” gives peremptory notice to quit.

There is no sign of movement, however, except where the hounds are working through tangled growth of sedge and brier with ceaseless waving of their “rush-grown tails,” as Somerville phrases it, and for a while no whimper is heard. Impetuous spirits are beginning to be a little dashed by the dread that this brake may for once be blank; then a light challenge is heard from a bitch that never lies, and the huntsman answers with a cheer. To that sound every hound flies eagerly, and the chorus of their music clangs like a carillon. Another brief pause, while hearts beat high, hats are thrust tightly down, horses are pressed up to their bits, and the squadrons stand in severed ranks like cavalry waiting for the bugle to sound a charge.

Now there rises at the far corner, clear and shrill, a “Gone away!” that electrifies everybody. Hounds are out in a twinkling as their huntsman dashes forward with a spirit-stirring “Hoic, holloa,” and a few short, sharp blasts of his horn. Then the headlong rush of a hundred horsemen sweeps like a thundering mountain torrent down the slope. In that glowing stream a few dark habits flutter, and all the first flight men and women charge a blackthorn fence abreast. By this time the pack is half a field ahead, rising with ferocious dash, and skimming like a flock of wild doves over the grass. Three or four men are down in the ditch, more than one loose horse is sailing along in gay career, rejoicing to be free, and the boldest riders have to harden their hearts as they face a ragged bullfinch with a broad grip towards them, and a stiff ox-rail a yard or two on the far side. Some take a strong feel of their bridles and pull back into a hand gallop, hoping by a double effort to negotiate the obstacle cleverly; others send their horses out at steeplechase pace, riding for an almost certain fall, but trusting that by sheer impetus they may be able to clear the timber or smash it. There is a sharp crunching of thorn twigs, a repeated rapping of hoofs on the timber, a loud crash as one gallant horse breasts the rail, shivers it into atoms, staggers, and recovering himself, goes on again in hot pursuit; the dull thuds of some heavy falls, and then all who are left of the line that swept so proudly down hill at the outset speed on, a shattered section of their former strength, but with two dainty habits still proudly holding their places in the first flight.

The road-riding division has been swiftly scattered in all directions. One column is galloping hard towards some well-known coverts five miles off. Regardless of the fact that our fox would have to travel dead up wind every yard of the way to reach there, these skirters place confidence in their pilot, who boldly asserts his knowledge of the hunted one’s point, because he has taken “that very line twice before.” It is strange how some men, who might go straight enough across country if left to their own devices, will often follow the lead of a rank impostor of this order simply because he can ride like a demon after dinner “across the walnuts and the wine,” and is always taken at his own valuation until found out. Nobody ever saw him perform the daring feats he has been credited with, but many have followed him mile after mile on the “’ard ’igh road,” and kept the secret carefully to themselves, lest in exposing him they should have to confess how they also rode the run. Not that one exposure would abash him much, for he has always a variety of excuses ready to explain why he failed to get through the crowd at the start, or took a wrong turn at a critical point, and so had to make up his lost ground by a short cut. Resplendent in garb of closest conformity with conventional ideas--a single-breasted coat, long in the waist and with square-cut, ample skirts, beneath which are just visible the faultless folds of breeches that fit like skin about his knees; boots without a wrinkle or a blemish in the brilliancy of their enamel; delicately tinted tops that are not the fraction of an inch too long or too short for Fashion’s fastidious eye; a cravat which quaint old Jack Parker would say “must have been starched and ironed on him,” and a gardenia in his button-hole--this youth is, from the crown of his polished silk hat to the buckle of his silver spurs, the perfection of scrupulous neatness, and the ideal presentment of a Meltonian sportsman; but his riding to hounds is a melancholy delusion. Conspicuous by the obtrusive correctness of his “get up,” he is the centre of much misplaced admiration among the fair at every meet; and, equally conspicuous now as he heads the torrent that rolls down a lane, he is the subject of misplaced confidence also.

Once thrown into the wake of such a pilot and fairly committed to a road, while Leicestershire hounds are flying like swallows over the grass four fields away--

“Not a nose to the ground, not a stern in the air,”

even you, bold rider, know how next to impossible is the chance of getting to them again. Like a stout swimmer caught in a rapid, from which all struggles to escape are vain, you can only float on with the foaming current, deafened by its din, paralyzed by its force, and hurl anathemas at the unconscious head of that weak being whose example led you to plunge into mid-stream. If he had shown the white feather palpably you would never have followed him; but it is the boastful funker’s characteristic that he never gives you cause to suspect the fear that is in him. He looked up to the last stride like going at that bullfinch, but just then the hounds seemed to swing round a little. He saw this, and in a second was shaping his swift course for the nearest gate; you hesitated, thinking he must surely know the country best, and, having hesitated, were lost.

Let me not be misunderstood. I condemn no man merely because he shirks a big jump, for not all of us have the nerve or the confidence, the horsemanship or the quick, resolute judgment to hold our own with hounds when they are racing hard over a strongly-fenced country. Such gifts in combination are not vouchsafed to one in every hundred, even among those who hunt with the Quorn, and he who frankly admits that nothing would tempt him to put his horse at any obstacle more formidable than a sheep hurdle may be a sportsman to the backbone, worthy of our highest respect; but Leicestershire is not quite the country for him. Only a man’s assumption of courage and attempts to cloak his cowardice make him and the action ridiculous. Nor would I for a moment hint, as John Warde once did, the fastidiousness which marks Meltonians in matters of hunting costume is a sign of effeminate weakness. A perfectly dressed man is never out of place except in the ruck; and to do the most foppish youths justice, it must be said that funking is not their characteristic fault. Digby Collins, one of the quietest, boldest, and best riders to hounds in his day that any “provincial” country, or the shires for that matter, could boast, summed up the exquisite’s character in brief when he said: “Your true hunting dandy would as soon think of omitting those minutiæ and obvious sacrifices to the Graces as he would of turning aside from a nasty place for fear of soiling them; and if he can carry his splendors well to the front for forty minutes from Ranksboro’ Gorse or the Coplow, nor fear to smirch them in the muddy waters of the Whissendine, who shall blame him?”

There are half a dozen of this type holding their own now in the first flight, from whose doings our thoughts have been for a few brief moments turned aside. Dandies they are in every detail, scrupulous even as to the correct length and width of the bow above their boots, and fond of personal adornment as the bewitching maiden whose white-vested habit has flashed past them once or twice, and whose presence has nerved them to all that man dare do. The wiry huntsman, full of dash and fire for all his fifty years, rides straight as he rode it from Waterloo Gorse nearly a quarter of a century ago; and the master, hoping to shake off the incubus of exuberant youth, puts his horse at the stiffest timber, where nothing but fine nerve in a crisis can save him from a crushing fall. But neither these nor the hounds, turn which way they will, can get half a field away from those half-dozen dandies who charge an oxen as their soldier forefathers did a line of infantry, and count fifteen rapturous minutes with the Quorn as worth a cycle of slow hunting in Clayshire.

As the line of chase bends down wind a little, and the bitches can no longer drive at topmost speed, they are in danger of being overridden. One youth, more reckless than the rest, lands over a double almost on top of the pack. The master’s reprimand is muttered in D minor, but he looks unutterable language, against which the thickest hide should not be armor-proof. The offending youth, however, speeds on with unruffled composure, his imperturbability reminding one of another thrusting pursuer in a distant hunt whose propensity for pressing hounds off a line the M. F. H. ironically rebuked by requesting him to take particular care not to jump on one of them, as it was a special favorite. Not a jot abashed, the youth replied: “I have a shocking bad memory for hounds, and I am afraid he will have to take his chance with the others.”

If our fox had held on up-wind he could not have stood before hounds another mile at the pace they drove over those first ten meadows. But now the line bends with a sharper curve from the easterly breeze, and the speed slackens somewhat, but only just enough to let the second flight up as we find our faces set straight at the brook that never fails to thin a Leicestershire field. We can already see the willow trees that mark its course. One ragged thorn fence and two furlongs of furrowed water-meadow lie between us and the yawning channel. That fence does not look forbidding; but ride at it carefully, for old gaps unmended mean that there is some other obstacle beyond. It may be broad, it may be deep, and the branches droop as if over a ditch, but you cannot afford to chance anything now. A crumpler here would take half the remaining breath out of steeds already sorely pressed, and you will want it all for a bigger effort presently. That warning came not a minute too soon. The old horse pricks his ears, but his rush had best be restrained. Sloping ground on the far side tells of a deep drop, and the horse that goes fast at that will want ready hands controlled by iron nerves to save him as he lands. There goes one! With just a turn too much speed put on at sight of a broad ditch and rotten banks, he spanned the chasm, but that drop was more than wearied forelegs could stand as they struck the steep slope. A falter, a peck, a heavy thud, and the rider executes a somersault two yards clear of the prostrate steed. Now watch how a workman deals with the obstacle. He seems to go at it just as fast, but by a firm, light feel of the mouth he has collected his horse for a supreme effort. The impetus is just enough and no more; the distance has been measured to a nicety; the hunter, well bred and high mettled, leaps “from the hand” without a pause, lands lightly as a bird, and like a bird skims on again.

There has been no check yet, but just a brief pause where the fox changed his course, and hounds are driving on as if he were now only a field ahead of them. The scent is breast-high and they have no need to stoop to it. Nor do they throw their tongues freely; the pace is too good for that. Like cavalry charging with a broad front, they carry what sportsmen call a good head. At every twist and turn there is keen rivalry for the lead, as first one and then another flashes out in front and swings to the scent like a yacht keeling over on a new tack or a swallow turning in mid-air. There is just a shrill whimper then, and the whole pack wheels to it as if at word of command. Fifteen minutes, full of more incidents than can be crowded into the hours of an ordinary day, have passed since our fox was halloa’d away. The hundreds from among whose thundering heels the tail hounds had to make hazardous way as we sped over the first broad meadow, have dwindled down to a twentieth of their number, and now we are heading straight for the sluggish brook, which is so full now that we cannot see where its slimy banks have been worn hollow by the slow curves and eddies of its summer current or the first rushes of winter floods.

The riding and spurring o’er Canobie Lea was as nothing to the rush with which men wheel right and left, galloping hard to find a gate and avoid the water. It is

“No shallow dry ditch, with a hurdle to screen it,
That cocktail imposture a steeple-chase brook;
But the flood-fretted banks tell as plain, if we mean it,
The less we shall like it the longer we look.”

How that “dream of the Old Meltonian” rings in our ears as we clench our teeth hard, sit down in our saddles and ride for the brook! There are not twenty followers left with the pack now, and not more than half of them look as if they mean going.