FOOTNOTES:

[2] Near Ilfracombe.—Ed.

[3] Mr. C. H. Basset, then Master of the Devon and Somerset Staghounds.—Ed.


[THE CHASE OF THE CARTED DEER.]

NOTE.—This article has been kindly read and approved by Mrs. Culpeper Clarke, who was unfortunately prevented from undertaking the task of writing it herself. In several cases the valuable suggestions she has made will be found embodied in the paper, marked by the initials C.F.C.C. At the special request of the writer of the paper, Mrs. Culpeper Clarke has consented to allow her photograph to appear.

Of all forms of the chase, that of the carted deer, has the unenviable distinction of having been followed, discussed and written about, by a greater number of people ignorant of the first elements of sport, than any other. It has too the disadvantage of being scorned by some of the boldest followers of the fox and the red deer, and thus while "crabbed" by those incompetent to judge, it is a "thing of naught" in the hunting calendar of some of the best sportsmen and women of the day. In spite of this, however, the hunt of the carted deer is the source of pleasure and health to many who otherwise would seldom or never be seen in the hunting-field, and as such it deserves to be chronicled.

That certain objections have always been urged with more or less weight against this particular form of sport, I am well aware, but I will leave its defence to abler hands than mine, and while ready to give help, if it may be, to any sister-sportswoman who would take it up, I must say boldly that a day with fox or hare is in my opinion, worth more than a dozen brilliant gallops after an enlarged deer. On the score of humanity, however, there is undoubtedly nothing to be said in its disfavour. The deer is well fed and cared for, and rarely comes to harm when before the hounds, and though there are nervous deer as nervous people, who will in the one case "funk" a possible fence, and in the other show signs of extreme fear at the pursuit of hounds, I do not believe in the agonies of terror of which the so-called humanitarians are pleased to make so much. On this point, however, let those who like Lord Ribblesdale, can wield the pen with as skilful a hand as they can steer a horse across country, speak with the authority which is theirs by right of profound knowledge, and long and unusual experience. And if we should find that other forms of sport are for whatever reason out of our reach, we may well be content to ride after the carted deer with such sisters of the chase as Lady Julia Follett, Lady Georgiana Curzon, Lady Downshire, and the brilliant horsewomen who week after week are among the followers of the Wards over the stiffest part of the Meath country. Can we go far wrong either in following such sportsmen as Lord Coventry and Lord Ribblesdale, with the spirit of Whyte-Melville inspiring us?

Let us then turn for a few words about the quarry of the Stag-hunt. The animal pursued, whether it be Stag, Havier, or Hind, has been carefully selected and most heedfully cared for, so that when it comes out for a gallop it is in the very height of condition. It is not often that it is asked to exert itself, for it comes out only in its proper turn, and this in the larger hunting establishments would not be more than three or four times in the course of the season. A Stag, fed on the choicest oats and the best old hay is not easily fatigued, and probably at the close of the day's proceedings, will not be nearly so "done" as the horses that have ridden in its pursuit, or the men and women to whom it has been giving pleasure. We all know the old history of Mr. Henry Nevill's deer, which lived on terms of perfect amity with the hounds kept for their chase, and I have myself seen a stag deliberately trot down a road and look over the hedge at the pack, which had considerately been stopped till his Lordship should get his second wind. The exploits of a celebrated old hind too, which was on the best of terms with all connected with her hunt, are still remembered in the country in which she afforded sport. As soon as she was released she would speed away, often for twenty miles or so, and when weary would take refuge in a wood. Recognising the sign that the hunt was at an end, the huntsman then stopped his hounds, leaving the hind in peace till the deer-cart came up. When this had been backed to the boundary fence of the covert where the deer was waiting, and the old driver had given a low peculiar whistle, the keen ears and soft eyes of the hind would appear through the bushes. If no enemy was in sight, she would then jump lightly in the cart and be driven home. Let us hope she would have a more comfortable journey than many a sportswoman, with weary limbs and a weary horse to carry her, and many long miles stretching between her and her abode.

IN THE AIR. NO. 1.

There are certain women who ride hard, for whom this form of the chase has special advantages. For example there is the woman who from whatever cause, whether from the care of a large household, or the pressure of the duties that her literary or artistic, or it may be her political tastes, have involved her in, finds it extremely difficult to take a whole long day for her pleasure in the field, and to such an one the short day with staghounds will be an inestimable boon. Again there are women, whose social or domestic duties keep them in town during the winter months, and to them a run with the staghounds will be a much-prized form of recreation.

On the other hand it should be remembered that to some women who are more or less of invalids, and who would yet rather not go out at all than leave off before the run is over, the possible long day, and the almost certain fast pace with staghounds, will be against this form of sport. This, like most other matters connected with sport, will depend very much whether the chase of the deer is the sport of the neighbourhood, when hounds will often make long days, or whether, as in some good foxhunting countries, it is more or less subservient to the chase of the fox.

There are others again whose lot is cast in a good stag-hunting country, who honestly find a satisfying enjoyment in riding after the hounds. These will like to make long days, and if they follow the chase to the end, will be not less weary than their foxhunting sisters, by the time they turn their steps homewards.

Let us see how such will fare.

Suppose that a run with Lord Rothschild's splendid pack is in prospect, and that the meet is fixed for twelve o'clock. If time is of moment to you, you may reckon that if you arrive at the rendezvous three quarters of an hour later, you will find you still have a margin before hounds are laid on. This will give you a comfortable morning's work, before the cart is at the door. For remember, that a pony cart or dog cart, or the more luxurious brougham, is very necessary to the comfort of the hunter of the carted deer. In the first place the long distances covered and the fast pace, make large demands on a woman's powers and those of her horse, and she should, therefore, husband both till the moment of the chase arrives. Equally for both horse and rider too, she should, if possible, make the return journey also in the cart.

That this often will not be practicable, and for the same reason that it is generally useless to have a second horse out stagging, does not in any way detract from the comfort of having the cart at hand if it can be managed. If, however, the deer should run too fast and too far, for his cart to come up to him for many hours after the "take," then—and this will be the most frequent experience of the followers of the chase—the rail may prove the best hack home for both woman and horse.

The former will thus be saved a weary jog home, and her horse will also be spared what, even if he is a good hack, will be the most difficult part of the day's work to him. And though, of course, an ideal woman's hunter should also be a perfect hack, how few even good horses answer the description. What hunting woman cannot recall some animal, and many it may be, which have served their turn, for which she would not have taken centuries, if offered when he was sailing with magnificent action over a grass country, but which on the journey home at night, she would have been almost inclined to give away to the first comer? But even with a good hack, it is a doubtful pleasure to ride him after he has tired himself in the chase, and you will find it a relief unspeakable to exchange the saddle for the cushions, and to drive or train home, instead of striving to keep your weary hunter on his legs.

T. Bennett and Sons. Worcester and Malvern

LADY DOROTHY COVENTRY ON SIXPENNY.

But to return to the meet. When you get to the place of meeting there will be three courses open to you as a rule. You can either see the stag un-carted and the hounds laid on, or you can omit the first ceremony and come on the scene with the hounds, which in well regulated establishments will not have been allowed to catch a view of the cart, or you can adopt another course, and wait till the stag has completed his first circle, which he is almost sure to run before leaving. If you incline to the last, and there is much to be said in its favour, you will look out for some point, such as the crossing of a road by the stag, and trotting quietly down to it, you will wait for the hounds to come up. By the time they reach you, they will have got over the first flurry with which staghounds always make for the line, and will come chiming down as prettily as a pack of harriers.

[I think the best plan is to come into the field with the hounds, if possible, pick your own place at the first fence—of course riding wide of the hounds—and do your level best to get a good start. If staghounds really run, a good start is every bit as important with them as in the Shires, and that is one reason I think they are such good training for judgment, decision and nerve. She who hesitates is sure to be lost sooner or later, and when you have been out of a good thing two or three times, because you did not push along at first, it does make you keen.—C.F.C.C.]

Then you should ride to the hounds and watch them working. You will observe that they string more than foxhounds—though they are foxhounds in everything but the use to which they are put—but such packs as Lord Rothschild's or the Queen's, will drive forward on a hot scent and work out a cold one, in a way that will delight any lover of hound work. Now you may, nay you must, ride somewhat closer to the pack than would be quite orthodox with foxhounds, and if there should be anything like a scent you will find that in spite of being a light weight, it may be, and riding one of the best, it will take you all your time to live with them. Nor will you be in any danger of overriding hounds. With a good deer you will find you need all your judgment, horsemanship, coolness and pluck to live to the end.

After you have been going some twenty or twenty-five minutes, perhaps, hounds will run up to their deer. But the sport will not be over. If possible at this point you should notice whether the deer has his mouth open or shut, for this will tell you whether you may still look for a long gallop or not. A deer, be it remembered, closes his mouth when he is beaten, but as long as he has it open, you may be sure he has not the smallest intention of being captured. You will find that with the consideration for the feelings of the quarry which marks all the proceedings, hounds will not be allowed to go on till ample time has been given for the deer to get a good start. He may not unlikely be encouraged by the friendly crack of a hunting crop by one of the field, but otherwise his Lordship will be left to himself, and the hounds meanwhile will stand with their sterns waving in eager impatience to be off, and their eyes fixed on the face of the huntsman. It was a grand sight to see poor Mark Howcutt at such a moment, in the vale of Aylesbury. The loose thong of his whip, as he sat motionless in front of hounds was enough to keep them in check, and when he quietly gathered the thong up, they knew the moment had come, and casting themselves on the line, they would break into a chorus of rejoicing, and race eagerly away.

It is not till you see the stag soil, that you may begin to take things easily, for this is generally a sign of the beginning of the end. It is, however (and here I recall the words of Whyte Melville), an act of courtesy to those who supply our sport, to stay and see the deer taken before we leave. If you are up at the end of a good gallop over the Vale, you may be pretty sure you will be able to hold your own wherever fortune may lead you, even if the Quorn hounds should be running their best from the Ashby Pastures, over the Twyford Vale to Burrough Hill, or the Cottesmore lady-pack be racing in front of you from Ranksboro' Gorse to Woodwell Head.

As stag-hunting begins later in the day than the pursuit of the fox, so does it leave off earlier, and the sportswoman who shares in it will generally find herself at home in time to get into a comfortable tea-gown, and give what our neighbours call "five o'clock" to her friends. There will then be the chance of a rest before dinner, and to those who are not over-strong, or who have heavy social duties before them, I would recommend the plan of a well-known rider to hounds in Leicestershire, who goes quietly to bed and gets perhaps a couple of hours sleep before her maid rouses her to dress for dinner. As many women undoubtedly suffer from the strain entailed by the great demands on their strength during the hunting season, the plan may help them to keep both good looks and health, and will thus give them a keener enjoyment in their favourite sport.

And now a word as to equipment, though this will be brief indeed, as what applies to the follower of the fox applies in almost every particular to her who rides after the stag. I would only suggest in the latter case that the habit worn should be plain, and that the distinctive collar of any Foxhunt of which you may be a member, is not quite in place when you are following another form of sport. As to the vexed question of the tall and the round hat, in the hunting-field, some will declare in favour of comfort as represented by the latter, while others will prefer the undeniable smartness of the ugliest product of modern civilization.

[My advice to everyone is to take a change in a Gladstone, and leave it either at the Inn where the meet is, or better still with the clothing and horse-box, for it is a serious matter to get ducked in a brook and then perhaps have a long train journey home, without the possibility of dry clothes. I say this feelingly, as this year after the Stag in Kent, I fell at a brook about 2.15—my watch stopped, so I know the hour—and after finishing the run, I had to ride seven miles to Paddock Wood, before training home. Of course I ought to have died of pneumonia after this, but happily was none the worse.—C.F.C.C.]

The above note reminds me that if at any time you should get a wetting, such as that described above, and have no welcome change at hand, you will in nine cases out of ten experience no harm, if in train or cart you cover your wet clothing with coat or rug, or even horse-cloth should nothing else be available. Some may think even a probable chill preferable to the last suggestion, but verbum sap.

The canteen for a day with staghounds will not require much thought, for between the late breakfast and early tea, which generally are possible, the demands of appetite will not be great. However, as there will be no second horseman to rely on, the sportswoman will do well to carry with her a few biscuits and a little cold essence of beef, or a slice of plum pudding, and some port wine should she prefer it. (A medical friend says there is nothing like Kola Wine.)

But now, last, though of more importance than all that has gone before, we come to the question of the hunter. To leave out of count for the moment, the points we should insist on for all women's hunters, the first great requisite for a horse that is to follow staghounds, is speed. For remember that the fastest possible form of the chase, is when a pack of large-sized foxhounds, is in pursuit of a red deer hind, over a grass country. A well-bred horse is essential, and other things being equal, if clean thoroughbred, so much the better.

[From my eleven years' experience of Stag-hunting, I have come to the conclusion that the most essential thing is that a hunter should be well-seasoned. If you ride a young horse with the stag, which would go perfectly well with foxhounds, he will go off his feed and fall all to pieces, even if you are lucky enough not to strain or over-reach him. A horse ought in my opinion to be quite seven years old, to take his turn regularly once a week stagging.

I quite agree with what you say about breeding, but for a woman the ideal horse for staghounds must not only be temperate, but in every way good-mannered. I suppose it is the rush at starting, which of course suggests racing, that excites them, but I know by experience that a horse which is a comfortable mount for a woman with Foxhounds or Harriers, may prove quite unmanageable if taken with Staghounds. A hot horse, too, even if you can ride it, takes so much out of itself, that it cannot stand the long days, and is sure to knock up. With the packs I know in Surrey and Kent, a good timber jumper is essential, and in Kent you also want a water jumper—a rare combination.—C.F.C.C.]

A good fencer will be the best to carry you in the Vale of Aylesbury or the Ashford Vale; while if you go out with the Queen's, you will need a stouter animal for their Beaconsfield country, and indeed for most of the country of the Royal Hunt. With the Wards in Ireland, you will need the very best class of horse you will ride with the Meath, and in all countries where the chase of the carted deer is pursued, you will, in my opinion, find size and scope important, as a large horse will be going well within himself while a smaller one is at a stretch. As however to every rule there is an exception, so an undoubted authority tells me, that an Arab pony standing only 14·2, was well to the front in a good run after stag one day this season (1897-8), and pounded some gallant Dragoons over a six-barred gate.

Although the fences in most stag-hunting countries are generally of a manageable size, yet as you have to gallop at them, you should have a bold free horse under you. One too which has his wits about him is perhaps, if that be possible, even more valuable after stag than after fox or hare, the pace necessitating the promptest decision and the greatest possible judgment in making the best of the unexpected, which is sure to happen, even when you think you know every inch of the country.

Stag-hunting then, we have seen, has its advantages, and I am not sure that if your lot is cast in a provincial country where the interest of watching hounds track their fox over flinty hills, from the depths of one thick covert to the recesses of another, is seldom varied by a gallop, you will not do well to take your place, at least occasionally, with the followers of the local staghounds. Of course, I am taking for granted that you are, more or less, interested in the working of hounds; but if you should be one of the hard-riding brigade, who frankly acknowledge they hunt to ride, then I should say that your best place will always be with staghounds, for with them you may reckon on the gallop which with other hounds is, and always must be, a matter of doubt. In most parts of the country you will find some staghounds within reach, at least of the "iron covert hack," and in Ireland the Wards and the Rosscommon are unrivalled for speed and incident in any land. It is only, though, the youngest, and pluckiest, and best mounted of us who can hope to live over the stiff Irish banks at the pace at which the latter hounds go. A saddening thought, but true, as many a good woman has found to her cost.

IN THE AIR. NO. 2.

If your hunting lot should be cast within distance of a stag-hound kennel, I would strongly advise you to learn something about the hounds. Your pleasure in the chase will be greater if you can distinguish between the notes of a trusted hound and those of a youngster which has not proved his right to your confidence. My own reception by kindly Fred Cox, when I made my first visit to Lord Rothschild's celebrated kennels, I have always felt to be a reproach to my fellow-sportswomen on this point. It was during a frost in the early days of 1895, that I determined to ask Cox to show me his beauties on the flags. A telegram brought back a satisfactory reply, and I duly presented myself at Cox's door. Mrs. Cox, however, was doubtful about admitting me, and told me her husband was engaged to show the hounds to a visitor at twelve o'clock.

"But I made an appointment for that hour," was my remark, and the astonishment with which the old lady regarded me I shall never forget.

With uplifted hands she exclaimed, "Well, to be sure ma'am, we thought you was a man!" and it was some little time, I could see, before the old huntsman himself decided that though I had the misfortune to be a woman, I was not altogether ignorant of what a good hound should be.

It will be a good thing when more women who ride to hounds know sufficient of hound work to be able to take an intelligent interest in the performance of the pack in the field, for those who can only enjoy a mad gallop know but little of the inner joys of the hunting field.

Frances E. Slaughter.

THE LADY THEODORA GUEST ON PEMBROKE.

(With the Blackmore Vale Hounds.)


[HUNTERS.]

The great question in buying horses to carry us with hounds is, of course, expense. If our purses are deep and well-lined, then we can ensure being well carried, provided of course we know sufficiently what we want to be able to choose aright. But even with two or three hundred guinea hunters, we may, according to good authority, only hope for the superlatively good one, once in a lifetime. Yet if only once this joy is to be ours it is worth trying for, the nearer perfection is our horse the greater will our pleasure and comfort be in the hunting field.

In saying this I am speaking of the great majority of women, those, who while being good riders and fair judges of what a horse should be, are yet not among the exceptional few who can make any horse go and most go well, and who can, therefore, lay claim to the title of consummate horsewoman. That the latter is rare, even in these days of hard riding, few will be found to deny, though perhaps many of us have a belief deep down in our minds, to which we would not give utterance for worlds, that we ourselves are above the average in our skill with, and knowledge of, horseflesh.

So those who feel they have nothing to learn will not be likely to trouble themselves with these few words on the choice of hunters, and to the "exceptional few" there is certainly nothing to be said that they do not know far better than one of their less-blessed sisters can tell them. But with these reservations there may still be a goodly proportion of riders to hounds, who will like to consider the subject of what a hunter should and should not be.

With a devout wish then that we could each truly say we find our pleasure in any horse, because even if he is a bad one, the excitement and interest of checking his faults and getting the best out of him, will make up for our loss of pride of place, let us think for a moment of the points essential for the average woman's hunter to possess.

These are, a well-laid shoulder, good carriage of the head and neck, and good manners.

Many other qualities there are which are more or less desirable, but the above are absolutely indispensable to a woman's safety, as well as pleasure in the hunting field, and, from choice, no woman should buy a horse that does not possess them.

A good shoulder, as we all know, means so much to the comfort of every rider, whether man or woman, that too much stress cannot be laid on it. But if desirable for all, to a woman it is the one point, for which, if she have to choose, she will give up all else. Without a shoulder which gives the play necessary for him to recover himself, a horse with the dead weight of a woman on his back, has no chance in the case of a slip-up, or peck, or any of the thousand-and-one trifles that will scarcely receive passing notice, if he does put himself right and go on.

Strange as it may seem, some women who go fairly hard in the wake of hounds, do not realise how all-important a matter this is. They do not, in fact, seem to understand the enormous difference between the dead pressure of our weight on a horse—light in comparison though this be in reality—as we sit with our support entirely on one side, to that of the man, who though in nine cases out of ten heavier than we are, yet by the even distribution of pressure and the springiness afforded by the double support of the grip of his legs on both sides of the animal, may be described as living weight. The advantage given by a man's seat is, I believe, incalculable, as those of us who have done long distance rides in uncivilised parts of the world, can say from practical experience, yet I would not—even if it were of the smallest use, in the face of popular opinion—advise women to start a crusade against the existing state of things. We have crusades enough in these days, without taking up the war of the saddle, a victory in which might turn out to be a disastrous failure from other points of view.

That the head should be well put on, is again of special importance to a woman, because beside the fact that she has less physical power than a man as a rule, from the nature of her seat she has less control over her horse, one therefore that carries his head badly, may prove beyond her power altogether to control, and will certainly be unpleasant and fatiguing to ride.

From the full clear eye which will look at you with such winning intelligence, you may and indeed must, if the horse is a stranger to you, make up your mind as to his character. And this is a test that will never fail. I would, therefore, counsel an intending buyer to turn resolutely from any horse that does not satisfy her in this respect, however good his points may otherwise be.

This brings me to the subject of manners, and full as much may be said on this important topic when we discuss the equine species, as when our talk concerns the human race, for is it not true, and equally true, that "manners maketh" both horse and rider what they are. But to confine ourselves to the former for the present, and to see first what he should not be. A horse that is to give you pleasure in the hunting field should not pull, and above all things must not rear, for nothing is so likely to lead to a ghastly accident as this. He must not be a refuser, as here a woman's physical lack of power will be against her. If he fidgets, you will find a long day on his back most fatiguing, and should he be a kicker your enjoyment will be marred. If, indeed, you ride an animal with this fault, and one which at the same time has any turn of speed, you should try to get to the front and stay there, for so you will have more space and freedom than can otherwise be the case. Wherever you are, remember you cannot be too careful to keep the active heels out of reach of the hounds, and of your companions in the field. It is most desirable that a hunter should be quiet at gates, and here, perhaps, I may be allowed to remark that all women who ride to hounds should be able to open a gate quietly and quickly, so if you are not proficient in this, I should advise a little practice by yourself. In a flying country your horse should be more than ordinarily bold, and as clever as you can get him for a creeping country, for never forget that you cannot drive or squeeze him as a man can. If you are a thorough good horsewoman you may of course use spurs, and thus force him "where he would not," but to raise the whip as you near a fence is to teach your horse to swerve, for he very soon learns to expect and shrink from the blow. Beside all these negative and positive qualities, the perfect hunter must be a perfect hack if possible, and when you have these combined you may congratulate yourself on having the horse of a lifetime.

LA CIGALE.

(Property of Mrs. Gordon Canning.)

A horse with the manners I have described will not be young, and I should say, though each rider will have her own opinion about this, that a horse is best for a good woman with hounds, when he is seven off, or even over.

In height he may be about 16 to 16.1, and when buying, remember that there is a certain class of horse which looks much smaller than it really is. This is the animal with a large body on short legs, which has the large bone, the good barrel, and the large knees and feet of one that stands much higher.

Whether you have one of these, or an upstanding creature which looks all, and perhaps, more than he is, let him be as near thoroughbred as you can afford to buy him. I think, myself, as I have said, that old horses are on the whole safer to ride than young ones, though of course if anything does go wrong with them, they have not the power of recovery that a younger one has. A saying of that good judge Whyte Melville is worth remembering. He was speaking of the horses that would be at the end of a long run, and said, "it will always be found that one or more of these is a thoroughbred, an old horse, and under 15.2," and is ridden by a lightweight, he might have added. At any rate our lightweight is one point in our favour, and another is our light-hands. I am firmly of opinion that in the matter of hands we distinctly score in comparison with our husbands and brothers, who in so many ways have the best of it in the saddle. For every man who possesses the coveted "hands," you will find half-a-dozen women who have them. We are too, quicker as a rule, to grasp a situation, or to anticipate an impending fall, and indeed, if we were not, we should rarely have time to free ourselves and get clear of our horse, for unless we are ready when the time comes we have no chance of escape, as those have who can save themselves on either side, when they feel their horses going.

SILVER DOCTOR

(By Death or Glory.)

The property of Mrs. T. E. Harrison. 1st Prize, Dublin Horse Show, 1897, and winner of 15 first prizes in Ireland.

It is difficult to say what price you would have to give for animals such as these, but any coming with a good character from a known stable, would probably cost from £150 to £300, and if you can afford it the money would be well spent. With two good all-round horses, such as I have attempted to describe, a woman would see more sport than with three or four inferior ones to carry her. They will come out sooner than less well-bred ones, and by good management and having both out with hounds, their owner should be able to get two days a week with them. Wherever possible I should always advise women to have out two horses, for this plan not only economises horse flesh, but is an immense saving of fatigue to them, as nothing is more tiring than to ride a weary horse. An intelligent groom should know how to pick up hounds in the middle of the day, if they should be anywhere near home, and though in the case of a great run this would be out of the question, then the enjoyment of the long gallop will have to make up to them for the days when the horse will not be able to come out.

But inasmuch as many of us know by mournful experience that we cannot afford to buy the best in the way of horse flesh, let us consider what we can forego without risk to life or limb.

1. We may dispense with size, because if a light weight, we can ride horses that would not carry the average man. This at once lessens the price, as the demand is of course much smaller, and for £60 or £80, or even less, you might meet with a serviceable and pleasant mount. Of course to the few women who weigh as much or more than a man this cannot apply, and indeed, for such I may say frankly that I know of no way in which they can mount themselves with safety, except by buying the best horses that money can procure.

2. The second way in which, if we must cut down our prices, we can do so fairly safely, is in having less of strength behind the saddle. Not that I would advise a horse with weak quarters under any circumstances, but while the qualifications in front of the saddle of which I have spoken are indispensable, I believe, if we do not ride over eleven stone, we may make some sacrifice in the matter of power behind the saddle. Those horses which are too light behind to carry heavy weights with safety are often very pleasant to ride, and we may meet with them at a very reasonable price.

3. Again, if we wish to keep within a moderate figure in the purchase of our hunters, we need not reject those that are undeniably slack in the couplings and have short back ribs, and consequently give the impression of being very long in the back, always of course supposing that they are suitable in other respects. Such horses are often pleasant enough to ride, and as they could in no case be suitable for a heavy weight, they should never be high priced. The great drawback to having such, of course, is that they will not come out so often, or stand so long a day as a truer shaped horse will.

SKYSCRAPER.

(Grandson of Hermit In Alarm. Property of Lady Gerard.)

A counsel of perfection is to have a saddle for every horse in your stable. This is so important that though it involves a considerable outlay with every change in your horses, it will be found a real economy in the end. When your saddles are overhauled, as they should be at the beginning of the hunting season, every horse should have a saddle fitted to it, and thus, and thus only, will you—provided of course your stable management is what it should be—escape the sore backs which will entail loss of sport in a way that is peculiarly aggravating, when you know it might have been avoided.

As important and yet within the reach of everyone is for every horse to have its own bridle. Never allow any departure from this rule, and see yourself that the head piece of each horse fits easily and that the throat lash is loose, also (and this is a point on which few grooms are to be trusted) that the bit has been properly fitted to rest on the right part of the mouth. This is of no slight importance, for a badly fitting bridle will spoil the manners of the very best of horses.

I should advise a woman always to ride with a double bridle, for with a snaffle her strength, as a rule, will not be sufficient to hold the horse together when he is tired. With light-mouthed horses, either a leather curb or a curb chain sewn in leather will be found the best. A good hint given by an experienced horseman is to drop the snaffle and ride lightly on the curb when going home after a long day, as this by relieving the horse will be less tiring to his rider. Another thing to remember is, that while in the morning when hacking to the meet you will naturally choose the soft sidings of the roads, on returning at night you should keep your horse on the crown of the road, as this will be easier going for him and he will be less liable to stumble.

As samples of high-class hunters that have been ridden well up to hounds in different countries, I would point to the horses reproduced in these pages, and the choice between the speedy thoroughbred and the clever Irish or provincial horse, must be dictated by the form of the chase and the country over which he is to carry you, and by the depth of purse to be reckoned with in the purchase.

Frances E. Slaughter.

Elliott and Fry. 55, Baker Street.

MRS. WRANGHAM ON THE DUDE.

Elliott and Fry. 55, Baker Street.

MR. AND MRS. WARDELL.

(With the Hawkstone-Otter Hounds.)


[OTTER-HUNTING.]

Possibly no form of sport has grown into favour more than Otter-hunting of late years. Fresh hunts are continually springing into existence, and there are now in the United Kingdom some eighteen recognised packs of Otterhounds. In speaking of a pack of "Otterhounds" one does not necessarily imply that the pack are Otterhounds by breed, as Foxhounds, both Welsh and English, are frequently pressed into the service of Hunting the Otter, most, if not all packs of Otterhounds having some Foxhounds among them. Besides these, many half-bred hounds are used, that is a cross between Otterhound and Foxhound.

In fact for all round work the latter are often preferred, as the cross-bred hounds possess the stamina, constitution, high courage and dash of the Foxhound, together with the deep, musical note, heavy coat, and grand appearance of the Otterhound.

Some packs of Otterhounds indeed are composed entirely of Foxhounds entered to otters, and so keen do hounds get on the scent of the Otter, that Foxhounds will become perfectly steady from hunting a fox, though they may have run two or three seasons with a pack of foxhounds, as soon as they have become accustomed to hunting their new quarry, and are fairly entered to the Otter.

The true Otterhound is a large upstanding hound with hard shaggy coat, long ears with the "roll" in them similar to that of the Bloodhound. In colour, more of them are whole-coloured than Foxhounds, the commonest colour being black with tan points, though they are also sometimes red, and black and white. The Otterhound has a beautiful, deep melodious note, which he uses freely when hunting, in fact one of his faults is that he is apt to throw his tongue sometimes too freely and to be "noisy."

For real sport, as a general rule, a mixed pack is to be preferred i.e., one composed of Otterhounds, half-bred Hounds, and Foxhounds. They must be in the best condition, have good sound, hard feet to stand a long tramp along the road to the meet, perhaps several hours swimming in very cold water, and then the long walk—sometimes fifteen or twenty miles—back to their kennels at night.

The management of the Hounds in kennel is exactly like that of Foxhounds. They should be regularly fed and exercised in exactly the same manner as Foxhounds, the only difference being that they can be kept "bigger" in condition, as Otterhounds do not have to go fast, but have often long, slow, tiring hunts, and have to stand long exposure to cold water. In addition to the hounds themselves, good terriers are indispensable. These must be of good constitution, with good feet and legs to stand the long journeys on the road, and as hard as nails in every respect.

Otter-hunting is a sport that is followed on foot and is therefore one that any woman, rich or poor, possessed of a good pair of legs and a thick pair of boots, can join in whenever the meet is within reach.

Most packs have given up hunting at break of day, and meet at the more reasonable hour of nine or ten. Having arrived at the meet, and after a few minutes' law has been given for late comers, the hounds will be put on to the river, and the business of the day will begin. The Huntsman will always, if he knows his business, have some hounds on each side of the river, so that not a holt or inch of the water may be missed.

GROUP OF OTTER HOUNDS.

We will suppose that the river is being drawn up stream, for most huntsmen, for various reasons too lengthy to go into here, prefer to draw up stream. Perhaps several miles are traversed and no sign of an otter. Suddenly one of the old hounds is seen to hang and lash his stern at a bend of the river, the rest of the pack eagerly rush to him, and soon are busy trying every stick and stone and tuft of grass an otter may have touched during his nightly wanderings, and though they cannot quite speak to it, there are unmistakeable signs that an otter has been on the river. The whole pack know it too, and become doubly keen and swim backwards and forwards across the river eagerly examining with their trusty noses, every stone, island, or bit of shingle where an otter may have touched. Every now and again they come to some spit or bend in the river where he has touched, and then they can just "feather" to it, and one old hound actually speaks, but it is only a stale line and the rest of the pack can but just own it. A mile higher up we come to a spot where a small brook joins the river we are drawing, and in a moment a change comes over the scene. Across a bend at the mouth of the brook every hound dashes forward on a hot drag, a cheer from the Master—who is his own huntsman—a touch on his horn, and away the whole pack of eighteen couples dart up the rocky dingle, and with a musical chorus make the wooded valley ring again.

Here is a burning scent, and the ground being rough they get clean away from the most of the field for nearly two miles, but at length they check on an old weiring made of wattle work and covered with big stones. One by one the old hounds leave this, and with a satisfied shake plainly say they know their otter is not there. No doubt a place where he has been lying the day before, but now he has moved on to fresh quarters. The master makes a dash up stream to make quite sure his otter is not above him, then a return is made to the main river, by the nearest route. And now as we are quite sure the otter is not below us we have every hope of a find. We soon strike the drag again, but here there is more water, and consequently it is only across certain bends or spots where the otter has landed, that hounds can speak to his line.

OTTER HOUND AND TERRIER

For nearly three miles they pick out his line up stream, trying every hole and corner and tree stump where an otter might possibly lie, till at length we come to a long deep pool half-a-mile in length, and shaded by many overhanging trees. At the head of this is an old ash tree, with roots spreading down to the water's edge. Hounds seem to wind it before they get within twenty yards of the spot, and with a dash and cry they rush at it, and begin baying and tearing the roots with tooth and claw. Excitement is now at its height. "Look out below!" shouts the master, and the first and second whippers-in make their best pace to the fords above and below, accompanied by willing members of the hunt, all anxious to help in the day's sport, whilst others put themselves in likely spots to get a view if the otter should but show his nose above water, or betray his whereabouts by the long line of bubbles called "his chains." The hounds dart a little way down stream to make sure that our quarry has not slipped away from the belt, but they can make nothing of it and seem loath to leave the old ash tree, most of the old hounds persisting in returning to it. At last, after some difficulty, an entrance is made for one of the terriers, and after a short scuffle inside, a line of silvery bubbles darts out from the belt. Another minute and a ringing "Tally-ho" comes from down stream, and away swim the hounds, every one in the pack speaking to him. Now the hunt begins in real earnest. For two long hours they hunt him in this pool, marking him first in one place, now in another, then they swim him from one end to the other, and once he narrowly escapes meeting his doom on the bank. Suddenly he disappears, and nothing can be made of him for some twenty minutes, till at last one of the old hounds hits him off below the lower ford. He has slipped by, unseen in the muddy water and after going about a hundred yards or so down stream, has taken to the land, through a thick covert overhanging the river on the steep hillside. Every hound is now throwing his tongue wildly on the line and making the woodland fairly rattle again with their music, they are close behind him, after a couple of rings round the big wood, and it seems as if he would never reach the river, but the briars are very thick and the hounds have difficulty in getting through, and he just manages to reach the water as one hound makes a grab at him. Hounds, otter and one of the field all come tumbling down into the water together. We are now in a deep pool half-a-mile lower down the river, but there is little or no cover here and he gets no rest. There is a capital scent on the water too, and hounds never give him a moment's peace. He is constantly viewed and is getting dead beat. At last he makes an attempt to get over the lower ford. But the hounds are too close to him, and with a dash they are on him. Woo-whoop, and another dog-otter is added to the tale of the slain after a capital hunt of three-hours-and-a-half. With considerable difficulty he is taken from the hounds, his head, tail, and pads are distributed to the field and the hounds receive their well-earned blood.

To those women who can enjoy healthy exercise, good sport, and can appreciate beautiful hound-work amidst lovely surroundings, and at a time of year when they can get no other kind of hunting, my advice is "come otter hunting." Having once come out, you will assuredly want to come again.

The season for otter hunting commences as soon as the water is warm enough, that is in March or April, and goes on till about the end of September. Of course May, June, July and August are the best months, as to hunt big rivers they must be low and the weather warm, to enable hounds and men to stand many hours of water work.

END OF THE SEASON.

(Looking back.)

The late Lord Hill hunted an otter for ten hours and eventually killed it. Hunts of five to seven hours are of frequent occurrence, and often end in the otter being left master of the situation.

One word of advice to those ladies who may be going out for the first time. Do not in your eagerness crowd on the hounds or get in front of them when drawing. Do not walk down the river the hounds are going to draw, to find them, instead of coming to the meet. Do not, when an otter is found, rush wildly about, up and down the bank in front of hounds swimming their otter, in hope of seeing him. If you do, you will be doing harm and spoiling the sport of others as well as your own.

Remember that thick boots and a short skirt are necessaries, if you wish to enjoy your day with otter hounds.

L. Wardell.

Alice Hughes. 52, Gower Street.

SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MALMESBURY.


[SALMON FISHING, WITH NOTES ON TROUT AND COARSE FISHING.]

Autrefois, Carpillon fretin
Eut beau prêcher, il eut beau dire,
On le mit dans la poële à frire.

In olden days the little fish
In spite of all they could say or wish
Were fried in a pan and served on a dish!

La Fontaine's lines, to which I have appended a somewhat free translation, could certainly not be applied to the modern representative of the species, whose extensive educational privileges on the subject of bait and flies have formed his mind, brought his acquirements thoroughly up to date, and elevated him from an innocent unresisting victim into an adversary whose cunning not unfrequently out-matches our own, but of whom the true fisherman should scorn to take an unfair advantage.

This being a sport in which delicacy of hand is more necessary than mere brute strength, it is especially adapted to women who love fresh air and beautiful scenery, and who are willing to bide the good time at which the fish feel disposed to rise.

I should perhaps say here that my remarks are intended to apply to salmon and trout fishing in rivers and lakes, taking incidentally such "coarse fish," pike, perch, etc., as are to be found by the way.

Of all fish the salmon stands pre-eminent for his sporting qualities, and next to him in order come trout of all kinds.

Salmon are a curious and interesting race, whose habits have been an object of study to the naturalist for many years past. They are born in the shallow reaches of rivers, the eggs taking from eighty to over a hundred days to hatch, the exact length of incubation being determined by the temperature of the water, and they sometimes remain in or near their original quarters till they are from one to three years old, when they migrate to the sea. By far the greater number, however, descend to the sea within twelve to fifteen months after they are hatched out from the ova. Up to this crisis in their history they are called parr, and seldom exceed some three ounces in weight. As the period of migration approaches—usually in the spring, though autumn migrations also occur—the samlets increase in size; silvery scales replace their barred markings, and they are known as smolts. Both parr and smolts feed greedily in the rivers, but it is a curious fact that subsequent to their first visit to the sea none of the salmon tribe appear to feed in fresh water, the stomach almost invariably being empty when examined. They remain in the sea for an uncertain period which may vary from three or four months to as much as two years, and during this time must certainly feed with voracity, as they increase many pounds in weight. On their first return to fresh water as grilse they weigh from two to eight pounds.

I have myself seen, in the Killery Bay, a shoal of salmon making for the mouth of the Erriff river. They were apparently led by a large fish, which from time to time sprang out of the water, I suppose to reconnoitre the neighbourhood. The fisherman used to look out for this leading fish, and run a net round the shoal. Salmon certainly do not live in company in the rivers, whatever they may do in the sea. They start on the journey up stream in shoals, but soon separate to take up their quarters in the different pools through which they pass. They are now promoted to the name of grilse, and attain the rank of salmon on their second and all subsequent migrations. Their arrival in fresh water is partly determined by conditions of weather and water; also by the special circumstances of the river to which they belong, i.e., whether it be early or late. The fish come up in prime condition, for the purpose of spawning, and return eventually emaciated and most unattractive-looking, after this has been accomplished. In the first state they are called "clean" or "fresh-run" fish, and are a bright silvery colour; in the second they are termed "kelts," become reddish or dark in colour, and from being thick and cobby in shape appear long and eel-like, the males having developed strange crooked snouts which vanish in quite a miraculous way when they return to the sea. There is no sign of this odd proboscis when they first enter the river, so that it comes and goes, leaving no token of its presence behind.[4]

Salmon are now unfit for the table, and must be returned to the water uninjured, when they are caught. I might here say, as I am regarding the salmon from a culinary point of view, that it greatly enhances the flavour and firmness of a clean fish, if he is "crimped" at once on being landed. He should first be killed by a blow on the head, and then cut into slices about an inch thick; taking out the joints of the backbone and running a stout piece of cord through the hole thus made. These slices may then be put into the river where the current is not too strong, the string being secured to the bank by a stout peg, and they should remain in the water for several hours until the flesh "rises," as it is called, to the "crimp."

My appetite for crimped salmon received, however, on one occasion a severe shock. I caught a beautiful fish weighing about eight or ten pounds, in the Hampshire Stour. The keeper proceeded first to kill him, and then began the crimping process. He advanced as far as the shoulder, at which moment I told him to stop, saying he might have the rest for himself. Thanking me, he laid his portion on the ground and we went further down the river. In half-an-hour we returned, and a friend who was with me and who had studied medicine, took up the head and shoulders of the fish and showed it me. To my horror, the heart, which was plainly visible and untouched by the cut of the knife, was still beating strongly. My companion assured me it was merely muscular action, but it was a ghastly sight, and for a long time I could not face crimped salmon again.

The instinct of the fish urges them to run up the river as high as possible, sometimes at a tremendous pace, and to make violent efforts to leap all obstacles in their way.

When in this state of mind they very frequently turn into small tributary streams, which, being flooded, allow them to pass up, but where they are sometimes found almost high and dry and unable to return, like a stranded whale of small proportions.

Sea trout also belong to the migratory species, and of them it may be said, shortly, that they are, in appearance much like miniature salmon, and have game and fighting qualities of very high order.

I may perhaps be allowed to say here that I have found mackerel, caught in the sea with a light trolling rod and trout tackle, give a great deal of sport. They are particularly muscular little fish, and the curl of their lithe tapering bodies, and forked tails, seems to give them a hold on the water which is out of all proportion to their actual size. When caught, after they have been killed, the large vein in the throat or gills should be torn. They bleed to quite an extraordinary extent, but are much better eating and less oily when they have been treated thus.

Bull-trout are something between the salmon and the sea-trout, and are also migratory fish of much the same habits and characteristics. They are very common in some rivers, less so in others, but I remember seeing one caught in Dhulough, County Mayo. There were also in this same place numbers of sea-trout which rose to the fly or came at a minnow, but as far as we could learn there was no egress from the lake by which these fish could get into the sea. They must, however, have had some means of descent.

The Salmo Ferox, or Great Lake Trout grows to an enormous size, weighing as much as thirty pounds. They give quite as good sport as a salmon, and many of them were caught some years ago in Loch Arkaig. The method of fishing was to troll for them in a boat, either with a fly or with a small gudgeon or minnow, but always with pretty fine tackle, heavily shotted so as to sink to a considerable depth. I hear that none have been taken in this way for a very long time in that water.

There only remains to be mentioned the ordinary brown trout of our streams and rivers, so common and so delicious when in good condition, but by far the most wary and difficult to catch of all his tribe.

The Cast for Salmon.

One of the greatest initial mistakes made by the novice in salmon-fishing is to continue flogging the water for hours together, without intermission, and regardless of the state of the sky or water. It is very difficult to give general directions as to the latter, for circumstances vary in different rivers, and experience only can enable the angler to judge when the right moment has come, but in floods or in rising water no fish will, as a rule, pay the slightest attention to the fly. As to the weather, a fresh breeze which ripples the current of the river or the surface of the lake is always a point in the angler's favour, and the sky should be overcast. A bright sun is generally fatal to any chance of sport, but there are of course exceptions to this rule. The largest salmon I ever caught, and which weighed thirty-two pounds, rose to a fly just before sunset, after a cloudless day, during which he had remained at rest close under the bank, holding a levée of numerous visitors who came to admire his fair proportions as he lay motionless and, apparently, without fear, within a foot of the surface of the water.

I have seen fish rise as if they were mad, in a gale, with pelting rain and flashes of lightning. In weather like this, my father caught in one day some years ago, thirteen salmon and one hundred-and-seventy sea trout to his own rod in the Erriff. It was a sort of convulsion of nature and the fish seemed to look upon it as an opportunity for a Saturnalia.

In all rivers and lakes with which I am acquainted I have found that the Salmon rise at certain fixed hours morning and evening, and sometimes also in the middle of the day. As salmon do not rise from hunger, as far as we know, it is difficult to understand why this should be. I leave the explanation to others and merely state the fact as I have found it. In that part of the Hampshire Stour with which I am best acquainted, the hours for rising were five in the morning, one p.m., and sunset. At one p.m. the fish were so regular in their habits that the servants' dinner-bell, which rang at that hour and was audible for some miles round, came to be called the Salmon bell.

In Dhulough, Delphi, and Glendalough lakes, in County Mayo, the fish were lotus-eaters, and preferred the afternoon for intercourse with the human race.

In Pool Persyn, on the Usk, near Brecon, they never rose, as far as we could find out, before twelve o'clock, or between two and four, when I presume they had their siesta. No doubt a great deal depends on the time of year and the amount of daylight. These peculiarities in a river can only be ascertained by experience, or by consultation with someone who knows the water, and should never be disregarded, as for all we know to the contrary, fish may get used to the sight of a fly which is constantly being dangled before their nose, and end by paying no attention to it.

Another very important matter is to make oneself acquainted with the haunts of the fish, the spots where they lie and rest on their way up the river—I do not say "down" as well, because they must not then be caught at all, owing to their condition.

In fine weather, therefore, when the sun is bright and the water low, the wise fisherwoman will leave her rod at home and walk along the bank, slowly and carefully examining the bed of the river and ascertaining, as far as she can, where the fish are lying and where the rocks and roots of trees, or "snags," as they are called, are situated. This knowledge will assist her to cast her fly in the right and not in the wrong place, and may avoid the loss of a fish which would otherwise either accidentally or of malice prepense entangle the line and snap it by means of a resistance which he cannot get from a lissom rod and a running line.

This is such a favourite trick with pike that it amounts to a recognised dodge, and would almost seem to be the result of some form of reasoning, however dim.

To flog the river for hours at a stretch, without having first ascertained these simple facts, at a wrong time of day, or when, for instance, the water is rising, is worse than useless, for it disgusts the angler, and renders her incapable, from sheer fatigue, of throwing a light fly when at last there is really a chance of a prize. Casting, let us say, from forty to sixty feet of line with a heavy rod is hard work for any woman; indeed, most men return from their first day's sport with a stiffness in the muscles of the back and shoulders which it takes a vast amount of "Elliman" to alleviate.

It is most important for a woman, in fishing for salmon, to husband her strength, otherwise, if she hooks a heavy fish and is already tired out, she may find it a difficult matter to play it safely, and to land it eventually, after perhaps following and keeping strain on him for some distance over unequal ground.

Thick waterproof boots, made high in the legs, gaiters if required, a short skirt, a blouse or tennis flannel, strong belt of leather or webbing and loose jacket, with a small hat well fixed on head, is the most suitable costume to go out fishing in. I take for granted that most women will not care to wade, a practice which is dangerous to health and sometimes to life itself, even when waders are used, as few women so hampered could regain their footing in a strong current once they had lost it, or if they accidentally stepped into a hole.

Quiet colours, heather mixture and the like, should be worn, as fish, and more especially trout, have a quick eye for a bright patch. White objects are to be avoided. It is a well-known trick with poachers to send a large piece of white paper floating down stream. Not a fish will rise for hours afterwards. It seems to affect them as flying a kite does partridges—they lie close and can be netted afterwards with ease.

Salmon are distinctly less clever than trout, and the same precautions against being seen are not so necessary, although always advisable even in the case of the former, which will also be attracted by a much coarser form of lure. No doubt the reason is partly that we fish for salmon and its varieties—the sea and bull-trout—in deeper water of which the surface, being broken by the current, is roughened and intercepts their view of the upper world. In trout streams this is not nearly so much the case, as a rule, and where the banks rise high above the water, trout require the greatest care, coaxing and delicacy in handling to induce them to exchange a comfortable home for the angler's creel.

When salmon are rising, they will take almost anything, and in thick or heavy water I have caught them myself with the identical spoon-bait which I used for mackerel in the sea.

It is difficult to fathom what is in the salmon's mind when he takes either a spoon or a boiled prawn, objects which he can never have met with in the sea in his natural state, but many fish will come at the fly merely to drown it by striking at it with their tail, and are ingloriously "foul-hooked" in consequence. When this happens they are far more difficult to kill, and often lead their captor a pretty dance before being finally gaffed or netted, the tail fin not being so sensitive as the mouth, which the fish can therefore close, thus swallowing no water when the strain begins to be severe.[5]

Before starting for a day's fishing it is necessary thoroughly to examine the rod and tackle which are to be used. I recommend from personal experience, for a woman, a light, well-balanced rod about sixteen or seventeen feet in length. Greenheart is a very good wood,[6] and mine, which is made of this, has lasted for years and is, apparently, none the worse. All depends on the care which is taken of it during the time it is not being used. I have always kept my rod in a moderately warm place, where neither the damp could get at, to warp and swell the wood, nor too great dryness make it brittle, and before beginning the season I varnish it carefully to preserve it from wet. Spare tops should be always kept ready in case of an emergency, but the accomplished sportswoman will of course learn how to splice a broken joint, as accidents do not always occur within reach of assistance. Each joint, unless made with screw fastenings, is provided with brass eyes; a piece of waxed thread should be fixed to these so that, being wound round an eye in each joint, the whole rod can be securely put together.

Having omitted this precaution on one occasion when I was fishing for pike, I cast into the river, with my bait, the top joint of my trolling rod, which floated in the water, but did not, strange to say, prevent my hooking and landing a fish of seven or eight pounds.

Examine the reel carefully; take it to pieces, oil it, if necessary, and work the handle to see that it runs smoothly without a hitch before winding on the line. Large heavy reels and coarse tackle are, to my mind, very inartistic and unsuitable for women, as they naturally lessen the chance of hooking a fish, although, once hooked, all the angler has to do is to hold on, "show the butt" persistently, keep the point of the rod well up and tire out the fish by main force.

Knot for Gut Loop.

This manner of proceeding has always seemed to me to be taking an unfair advantage of a salmon or trout. With a pike, of course, the question is a different one, as he cuts the line with his teeth, if you give him the chance and nothing but gimp is of any service. The rings through which the line runs should also be examined to see that they are secure and that the line itself, which is best of hemp for salmon-fishing is free from kinks and not chafed anywhere, also that it is wound evenly on the reel, from which it must run lightly and easily.

A check in the running of the line, when a large fish makes a sudden dash, would almost certainly enable him to break away. Many people waterproof or varnish the line to keep it from rotting, and its usual length is from sixty to seventy yards, the gut cast at the end being generally about three more and stained (according to the colour of the water in which it is to be used) either with tea or coffee, or else ink and water.

One very important point is to wet both line and cast thoroughly before using; the former should be run through the rings in the rod, and casts made on a lawn or other open space for practice and to remove kinks if any. Lines must be thoroughly dried after use.

Ordinary method of tying Gut.

Most women buy their tackle ready made, or are accompanied by an expert fisherman, but, if breakage in the cast takes place and no help be at hand, they should know how to make a single and double slip-knot, and how to put on fresh flies in case of need. It should always be remembered that the two ends of gut about to be joined should be thoroughly moistened before they are manipulated. Otherwise the knots will not bind and the gut will break.

Method of fastening Dropper to Cast.

It is better for a woman, if not an expert, to keep to one fly, that at the end of the cast, called the tail fly, unless she is fishing for sea-trout in which case a smaller one, called the dropper, may be employed a little higher up the cast, or it may be advisable to use two different kinds of salmon flies, but they are apt to get entangled and give a great deal of trouble, without any conspicuous advantage. This is particularly the case where casting is interfered with by high rocks, or trees and branches just behind the fisherman.

Dropper and Cast.

The length of my own favourite salmon and trout rods are seventeen and eleven feet respectively, but many people recommend a length of not over fourteen for the former, as a woman's strength is so much less than a man's.

Dropper and Cast.

My own experience is, that in casting against a strong wind, a stiffish rod of eighteen feet is quite within my powers, so much depending on the balance of the whole apparatus, the size of the reel and weight of the butt. In quiet weather my "Castle Connell," a foot less in length and much more supple was very satisfactory.

Marvellous tales are told of long casts, but personally I have found sixty feet or thereabouts to be the length of my tether, at least so far as a satisfactory performance is concerned. This distance is usually quite enough for all practical purposes, and it will be some time before the angler can be certain of dropping his fly lightly and surely on a given spot, even at forty feet.

Women should practise casting on lawns without a cast at the end of their lines, as, when the fly is on, a novice has been known to hook swallows and even inquisitive puppy-dogs. The "Spey" cast should be studied as well as the ordinary method, the former being most useful where there are high branches or rocks just behind the place where the angler must stand.

The "Spey" cast consists in so switching the line that it shoots out direct to the required spot without ever passing behind the angler's head, while in the more ordinary method, the great secret is to send the line right out at the back, and then with a dexterous turn of the wrist to bring it forward. By raising the tip of the rod slightly just before the fly touches the water, it will fall into its position in a light and natural manner. Casting requires great care and patience in practising, and many a time the beginner may find her flies firmly embedded in her own back hair, instead of speeding swiftly through the air to where the fish lies.

In casting a line either for salmon or trout it should be noted that fish always lie with their heads up-stream, and that it is therefore necessary to stand some distance above where they are supposed to be, and cast across the water so that the fly may fall delicately and gently, without the least splash, a little above their noses. It cannot be too often repeated that, in fishing for trout, the great art is not to be seen. The angler must therefore stand well back from the bank, hide behind trees and bushes and crouch in hollows. Above all, it is absolutely essential that the figure should never be seen against the sky. She must keep her face to the sun, that her shadow may not fall on the water, throwing her fly first of all under the near bank and then by successive casts across the stream.

The salmon cast is naturally a longer and slower movement than that which is used for trout, but in both instances it is often well to allow the fly to sink a little before beginning to play it. For salmon the line should be drawn gently and with successive movements of the wrist up-stream and across the space which intervenes between the spot where the fly has fallen and that at which the angler stands. The trout cast is much more rapid, and the playing should be across and down stream as well as up, the movements of the wrist being much lighter and more varied. In both cases, when a fish is felt, a "strike" should be made, at least, authorities, to whom I am bound to bow, insist on this ceremony. Personally I believe that the fish, by this sharp turn of the wrist, is as often lost as hooked, unless care be taken to chose the actual moment when he has closed his jaws upon it. I have seen a fly pulled right out of a salmon's mouth, and have been told by those looking on and instructing me that I had done that same thing myself, when I merely intended to strike. My impression is, therefore, that the novice had better let her salmon hook themselves, which they will certainly do if they come well at the fly.

The cast itself requires careful examination before it is used; it should be stained to the required colour and tested with a steelyard up to sixteen or seventeen pounds for finer tackle, and eighteen for that which is coarser. Trout-casts, will not, of course, require or bear so severe a strain, but should be tried to see whether there is any defect either in the gut or in the knots which unite the several lengths of which they consist.

Few women, I imagine, will care to make their own casts, although some do, and for those I may mention that the best and cheapest gut is to be had in the South of Spain, where it is about one-third of the price which it fetches in England. Fly-making is very pretty work for delicate fingers but tedious and, on the whole, not very remunerative, as flies can be bought very cheap now-a-days. They may not be quite so carefully finished as those of home manufacture, but they are, I must admit, equally killing, although for years I placed implicit faith in the latter.

There was one fly for which I had a special fancy; it is a combination of orange-coloured silks and tinsel for the body with pheasant and jay for the wings, peacock for the head and golden pheasant for the tail. On one occasion, this "Orange Body" of private manufacture was presented to a friend, who admired it greatly and sallied forth, on slaughter bent.

He hooked a salmon almost with the first cast, struck with decision, and behold, all the dressing of the hook including of course the eye, came away and he lost his fish.

What had happened? The secret was this: that the cobbler's wax used for fly-making had been mislaid, and an ordinary piece of wax-candle used instead, the result being that the fish went away with the hook in his mouth while the rest of the fly remained to adorn the cast.

Test your flies, therefore, see that they are thoroughly sound and that the eye and piece of gut by which they are fastened to the cast are not frayed. It is a good thing to try a new fly in a basin of water or shallow pond to see whether it floats, as it should, horizontally, and whether the wings have a life-like motion, as by repeated short movements you play it with your hand.

Attention to all these little matters may seem very irksome at first, but it is by these means that one angler will succeed when another who precedes him on the same ground, will obtain no sport.

To give an accurate description of the different kinds of flies used in salmon and trout fishing, would be quite impossible in so short an article as the present one, but it should be said that, as a general rule, the deeper and larger the river the larger and brighter will be the flies required.

In thick or heavy water, after a flood, large bright coloured flies are indicated, and the clearer the stream the smaller must be the size, and the more neutral the colours tend to become. Most authorities seem to agree that the size of flies is a much more important factor in their killing qualities than the special materials of which they are made, or the finish and delicacy of their manufacture. When fish do not seem to be rising it is well to try them with another colour or make, and this will often enable the angler to fill his basket, when otherwise the day's sport must have been marked with a "duck's egg."

The same general rules also apply to trout fishing, but it should be remembered that in the latter case, except when fishing in lakes or rivers for the larger species which may fairly be angled for as salmon, the shallow water, enabling the lure to be plainly seen, requires less gaudy colours, and, of course, an immense reduction in size.

I must not omit to mention the gaff and the landing-net, most important parts of the angler's outfit. The former is best for large fish, under which it is much more difficult to get a net.

There is always a great controversy raging as to whether it is best to gaff "over" or "under," and the right place to accomplish the former is said by some authorities to be the back just at the shoulder. Personally I belong to those who gaff "under," and have always found it much easier than the other.

When a fish is brought close to the bank, sometimes only half or three-parts killed, he will generally make a dash for his life when he sees a murderous-looking steel instrument close to him, so it must be concealed from his view, and it is a good plan to have the gaff pretty deep in the water before he is brought up to it then striking under and drawing the gaff sharply forwards and upwards. I have landed some very heavy fish in this way, and scarcely ever missed one.

Once I gaffed a beautiful salmon of at least eighteen pounds, on the Usk, landed him triumphantly, and stood admiring him while the fly was taken out of his mouth. He seemed quite dead, but just as we turned away to what we hoped would be fresh conquests, with a vigorous flap of his tail, he managed to slide over into the river and was lost to view. I am afraid he was mortally wounded by the gaff, and must have died before long. This was a lesson to me to remove my fish to some distance from the water's edge and to make sure that they were really dead before leaving them. The net should be used for "red" or "black" fish, which must be returned to the river on account of their condition, with as little injury as possible.

Grayling are not usually considered as interesting to catch as salmon and trout, for, although they will sometimes make a desperate fight for life, they will only too often sink down to the bottom of the stream and remain there. They must be fished for with the same precautions against being seen which are used for trout, and with several flies on the cast, as they often move in shoals. They usually lie in the middle of the river, in its lower reaches towards the sea, and when these are broad, the angler is often compelled to wade to get the best chance at them. They are caught with the fly as well as worms and other bait. The cast should be made up-stream.

I must not forget to mention dry-fly fishing, which is particularly suitable for women. This form of angling is usually necessary in chalk streams, where trout will often refuse to be tempted by any other. The cast must be made up-stream so that the fly drops on the nose of the fish in a natural manner, and floats on the top of the water. The moment the fly gets wet it is useless, and must be dried by making two or three false casts in the air before returning to a real one on the stream. The fly must be worked with the greatest delicacy of touch, and allowed to float down with the current on the surface of the water.