It is clear that even in these early days Gatacre had acquired the art of making himself valued among his fellows. Colonel Kent was dining with the Rifle Brigade at Aldershot one evening when he had the gratification of hearing the laments of some of his contemporaries at the Staff College at the prospect of losing Gatacre. But the Colonel, highly delighted at the success and popularity of his young friend, reassured them, saying:

"Never mind, I have another quite as good to send in his place. I am sending Bengough next term."

"Ah, yes," they said, "but we shall never have another like Gatacre; we shall miss him dreadfully. Why, what can the 77th be made of!"

"Gatacres and Bengoughs," was the proud reply. General Kent affirms, moreover, that His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught was present on this occasion.

1873-4

During these two years Captain Leir[[1]] was Master of the Staff College Drag-hounds. He speaks of Gatacre, who acted as his Whip, as "the best who ever turned them for me"; and tells us that he was quite the most accomplished horseman of his day—that he used to ride all sorts of horses, made and unmade, that he had wonderful patience and nerve, and was always in the front.

[[1]] Now Major-General Leir-Carleton.

Captain Leir writes that the only fuss he ever had with his colleague was over a hound, called Bellman, who had been given to him by the late Lord Cork when master of the Queen's Buckhounds. Bellman was a great favourite, being very companionable, which is unusual with fox-hounds. Gatacre begged leave to take him home and summer him in Shropshire, but having got him there the Squire took such a fancy to Bellman that his return was delayed till the following January. On another occasion, however, the Master had every reason to be grateful to his friend, as he tells us in the following story.

Indefatigable

For drag-hounds the scent is laid by a man who runs with aniseed half an hour before the hounds start; but as it is imperative that he should thoroughly know his line, he must walk it first, carefully selecting a track which avoids risk of damage to growing crops and affords suitable fences for the field. On one occasion when Captain Leir's runner (or fox as he was familiarly termed) was hors de combat from a fall, he sent for a noted runner from Reading to take his place. But when the Master had shown this man half the course, he suddenly threw up the job, and after that no bribe would induce him to go a yard farther. The meet was advertised for the following day, but there was no fox, and Leir, vexed and despairing, now turned to his Whip, who was noted for his resource in all difficulties.