In selecting a pilot, do so with judgment. Choose one who knows the country, and who will not be too selfish nor too grand to take care of you; for, remember, you are only a beginner, and will need to be taken care of. If, then, you have secured the right sort of man, and your own heart is in the right place, you may prepare to enjoy yourself, for a real good day's hunting is the keenest enjoyment in which man or woman can hope to participate in this life.
The trot to the covert-side is usually very pleasant. You and your horse are quite fresh. You meet and chat with your friends. The two, three, or four miles, as the case may be, seem to glide away very fast. Then comes the anxious moment when the beauties are thrown in, and all wait in eager suspense for the whimper which shall proclaim Reynard at home. But not a hound gives tongue this morning. You can see them—heads down, sterns up, beating here and there through the gorse—but, alas! in silence; and, after a while, someone says, "No fox here!" and presently your ear catches the sound of the huntsman's horn, and the hounds come trooping out, almost as disappointed as the field.
Then the master gives the order for the next or nearest covert, and there is a rush, and a move, and a long cavalcade forms upon the road, headed, of course, by the hounds. Get well in front, if you can, so as to be quite up when they reach their next try, for sometimes they find as soon as ever they are thrown in, and are far away over the country before the stragglers come up, and great, then, are the lamentations, for hunting a stern-chase is, to say the least of it, not cheerful. You will have another advantage, also, in being well forward, for your horse will get the benefit of a temporary rest, whilst those who, by lagging, have lost time at the start, are obliged to follow as best they can upon the track, bucketing their horses, and thus depriving them of the chance of catching their wind—which is, in a lengthened run, of very material consequence.
One especial difference you observe between road-riding and hunting: you are obliged to trot at a fast swinging pace such long tiresome distances from covert to covert, without pause or rest, and you feel already half tired out. Hitherto, when riding on the road, or in the park, if you felt fatigued you have only had to pull up and walk; but on hunting days there is no walking. The time is too precious, these short, dark, wintry days, to allow of such "sweet restings." The evening closes in so rapidly that we cannot afford to lose a moment of our time, and so we go along at a sweeping pace. Nobody who is unable to trot long distances without rest has any business hunting.
CHAPTER VII.
HOUNDS IN COVERT.—THE FIRST FENCE.—FOLLOW YOUR PILOT.—A RIVER-BATH. —A WISE PRECAUTION.—A LABEL ADVISABLE.—WALL AND WATER JUMPING. —ADVICE TO FALLEN RIDERS.—HOGGING.—MORE TAIL.
You have now arrived at the next covert, and have seen the hounds thrown in. In an instant there is a whimper, taken up presently by one and another, until the air rings with the joyous music of the entire pack, as they rattle their game about, endeavouring to force him to face the open. The whips are standing warily on the watch, the huntsman's cheery voice is heard encouraging the hounds, the Master is galloping from point to point, warning off idlers whose uninvited presence would be sure to send the "varmint" back into his lair. Your pilot, knowing that a run from here is a certainty, selects his vantage ground. Being a shrewd man, he knows that no fox will face a keen nor'-easter, nor will he be likely to brave the crowd of country bumpkins, who, despite the Master's entreaties, are clustering about yonder hedge. In short, there is only one point from which he can well break, and so your pilot prepares accordingly.
Another anxious moment ere the "Gone away! Tally-ho!" rings out upon the keen air; and then follows that glorious burst which is worth giving up a whole year of one's life to see. Hounds running breast high, fairly flying, in fact; huntsmen, whips, horsemen, all in magnificent flight, each riding hard for the foremost place, amid such a chorus of delicious music as is never heard from any save canine throats; and then, when the first big fence is reached, such hurry and scurry! such tumbling and picking up again! such scrambling of dogs and shouting of men! such cold baths for horses and riders! and oh, such glory amongst the wreckers, as they stand tantalizingly at the edge of the chasm in which so many are hopelessly struggling, whilst their audacious cries of "What'll you give me, sir?" "Pull you out for a sovereign, captain!" are heard and laughed at by the fortunate ones who are safe upon the other side.
Your pilot has been a wise man. He selected his starting-point at the sound of the very first opening out, and when the general scrimmage took place he had his line chosen, and so has led you wide of the ruck, yet in the wake of the hounds.