You lose sight of him, then a view-halloa rings out, and a whip cracks sharply. He has swerved from the figures on the earth and hounds are gaining fast. Gradually they edge him lower and lower, until the last rock left behind, he is threading a narrow trod amongst the bracken. It is “all over bar the shouting,” as you dash down the long grass slope, clear the intervening wall, and drop panting into the allotment on the other side. A scramble through a stony beck, ending with a sharp run, brings you in sight of hounds, racing from scent to view. A sharp turn, a gleam of white fangs, and Stormer rolls him over, to be buried beneath a living avalanche of white, and black and tan. Who-hoop! Who-hoop!
Such is a day worth living for with a fell pack. A quick find, a fast hunt, a good place to see it from, and a kill in the open; what more could the heart of hunter desire? The man who does much fell hunting will get his share of such days, and when they come they amply repay him for any past disappointments.
The regular followers of the fell packs consist chiefly of shepherds, dalesmen and the like, comparatively few of the local “gentry” being sufficiently keen to take more than a passing interest in the sport. The fine air on the tops, and the strenuous exercise, beat all your doctor’s medicine, but I am afraid in these modern days people believe more in the latter than the former. The working men in the dales are the keenest of hunters. No matter on what task they are engaged, when hounds come near, they down tools and join in the chase. They work hard, too, at unearthing a fox which has got to ground amongst the rocks, where crowbar and hammer are often required to loosen up the huge boulders.
On the fells the huntsman is the only man who wears a scarlet coat, and he is assisted by a whipper-in, who may perhaps wear hunting-cap and dark grey jacket, relieved by a touch of red on the collar and a scarlet waistcoat.
The huntsman is followed by three or four fell terriers in couples, and generally a hound or two as well. These last are usually young hounds, or older members of the pack which he is prepared to let go when occasion warrants. Usually the whipper-in will take the highest ground, leaving the huntsman to go below. He often takes more coupled hounds with him to the tops, to “louse” them at some convenient moment. The terriers form a most important item of the Hunt. Without them it would be impossible to locate and evict a fox after he had got to ground.
ULLSWATER FOXHOUNDS: JOE BOWMAN, HUNTSMAN (SINCE 1879).
Most of these terriers are cross-bred, showing more or less Bedlington blood, as evinced by the light-coloured, silky hair on their heads. Silky body covering is not wanted on a fell terrier, for if the coat is too fine, the dog is unable to withstand wet and cold properly. These terriers vary considerably in size, but a very short-legged dog is handicapped on rough ground or in the snow. A biggish terrier is decidedly useful in places where he can work up to his fox, but in the majority of Lakeland borrans or earths, a smaller dog is to be preferred. A fox always takes good care to choose his defensive position underground, and a terrier has to attack him from below, and is thus at a disadvantage. Sometimes the positions are reversed, and the fox squeezes himself into a narrow crack, where he is unable to turn, thus exposing himself to a rear attack. As a rule, however, he is “head on” to his canine enemy, and then if he refuses to bolt, a battle royal ensues. A big dog-fox is no mean foe, and the combatants on both sides often get severely mauled. A sure sign that a fox is shifting his quarters underground is when the terriers cease marking, and the hounds begin to rush about the borran. It is surprising how a fox will bolt and escape his foes on such occasions. He creeps quietly to some convenient outlet, pauses an instant, then slips away, often unseen until he has placed some distance between himself and the hounds. Even after a mauling he will often beat hounds uphill on rough ground, and end by getting to earth somewhere else.
Some of the Lakeland borrans are very deep places. It sometimes happens that although the terriers reach and possibly account for the fox, they are unable to return, and it may mean days of strenuous work ere the men can extricate them. At long intervals, more serious events occur, and despite all that can be done by willing hands, a rescue is impossible. Certain stone quarries and other places in Lakeland hold sinister reputations in this respect.
Some of the quarry “rubbish heaps” are composed of “big stuff” in the way of rocks, and are dangerous to open up, as the excavating process causes the upper material to unexpectedly rush in. In addition to shutting off the terriers, such a rush may easily bury or severely injure the men who are at work. I have seen one or two very narrow escapes of this kind, and they are decidedly unpleasant experiences.