Nothing stops a really keen fell hunter from enjoying the sport he loves best. I know at least two men with wooden legs who regularly follow hounds, and would shame many a sound person when it comes to travelling on the hills.
There is a story concerning two hunters who used to follow hounds above Dockray. I believe one of them was a relation of Joe Bowman, the well-known huntsman of the Ullswater. Anyway, this ancestor of Joe’s was deaf and dumb, while his friend and hunting partner was blind.
The latter’s stock saying to his mate, when hounds were out, was, “Thou mun lissen, an’ I’ll leak (look).”
That big foxes are not altogether confined to the fell country is attested to in Frank Gillard’s “Reminiscences.” Gillard mentions a big, mangy dog-fox which the Belvoir Hounds killed at Aswarby. Had this fox been in good condition he would have weighed over eighteen pounds; as it was he turned the scale at seventeen and a half pounds.
Apropos of the famous “Dun Bull” inn, in Mardale, mentioned in a previous chapter in connection with the shepherds’ “Victory Meet,” is the following yarn.
The Ullswater had a good hunt in Longsleddale, eventually running their fox to ground in Mardale. A terrier was put in, and the fox bolted, affording another scurry before he was killed.
At the finish of the hunt a youth approached Mr. Farrer, of Howtown, the owner of the terrier, “Lucky Jim,” which had bolted the fox; and the following conversation ensued:
Youth: “Did your Jim worry the fox?”
Mr. F.: “No, my lad, he bolted.”
Youth: “Ay, an’ thou’ll bolt summat when thoo gits to t’ Dunny (Dun Bull).”