I write, moreover, with an anxious desire that my brother sportsmen, wherever they may be, should be induced to gather in due season to these favoured spots; and having once taken part in the truly noble sport, I fear not the necessity of further laudation on my part to bring them once more to the rendezvous, when, the year coming round, the horn again echoes over heathered hill, from Simonsbath and Brendon Barton, to be wafted back from Horner and Culbone.

The hunting from Lynmouth, and that from Dulverton, are, however, greatly varied. From Lynmouth, the deer, though not seldom roused by the tufters, from the dense woods which close in the steep vales and ravines which descend towards the sea, and clothe the almost impracticable sides down to the very beach, are more frequently found and roused on the open, and then it is indeed a glorious sight for those who are gathered there to behold the find, trebly so to those who are well mounted and desire to follow in a chase which frequently lasts, without one single check, over a dozen or twenty miles of heathered hill and dale; whereas the meets from Dulverton are, generally speaking, (though not always), confined to the extensive woodlands which clothe the neighbouring hills by which it is surrounded, as also the large coverts which border the forest of Exmoor. In these woods the nose and condition of the tufters are not seldom put to the test for hours; while the assembled sportsmen, as also the ladies, who frequently honour the meet by their presence, may view a noble stag crashing through underwood, or a graceful hind bounding up the woodland slopes. But when at length they do break, and the gallant pack are laid on, the run afforded is not seldom as good as that from the open; and then, indeed, splendid is the sport to him who finds himself on a well-conditioned hunter well up to his weight, and has the heart and nerve to ride him; without such a horse and such a heart, far better witness the burst, and prove you have the courage, the firmness, and the good sense, to ride quietly home, and hope for better luck next time. I had heard and believed, long ere I had the good fortune to take part in the pleasant scenes I am endeavouring to describe, that to ride over the forest after a flying pack, with a five-year-old stag in the van, was a feat only to be successfully performed by one long accustomed to the country, and mounted on an animal halfspirit and half-eagle. With all courtesy to those who so misled me, I must admit I believed in a fiction, exploded the very moment I witnessed and took part in the fact. I had been told there were bogs, which, to get in was smotheration for horse and man; and bogs are there, and very bad ones; but it by no means follows that once in a hundred times either man or horse who gets in them is in great danger of losing his life or the run. I admit that during the present season, owing to the month of August having been particularly dry, the riding over the moor has been far better than it has for years; and, unquestionably, in many places it is at times cruelly deep. But, as I said before, with a proper horse in proper condition, which is a sine quâ non, and a rider with nerve and heart, hounds may be followed over the moor as easily as over any country in England.

But I would desire to say a word or two to those who may come from afar for the stag-hunting season on Exmoor, and who really desire to see a chace. It is this: if you be good sportsmen, do as you do in your own country-hunt with the hounds wherever the country is prac

ticable; you can do no more. But beware of the enticing voice of some first-rate fellow, as far as good humour, hospitality, and so forth are con cerned, for there are many on Exmoor who know every yard of the forest; as do they, in imagination, every point in a run the moment a stag is roused. Beware, I say, of such kind and courteous gentlemen— some of them not seldom mounted on first-rate Exmoor ponies-for, be assured, if you follow them you will see much of the moor and the heather, but nothing of the hounds, and, consequently, nothing of hunting. If you want a gallop over the forest, ride as the crow flies from Brendon Barton to Dulverton; and ask one of these gallant fellows to show you the way. But if you want to see the hounds, mount yourself as I have advised you, and stick as close as you can to their master, Captain West, or to old Sam on his chesnut horse Clear-the-way, or the whip Alfred on Pickwick. If they go into a bog-and chance they may, for they are not easily stopped; for, although this is only their second season on the moor, they are always a-head with the hounds-why you will be in good company, and be enabled to assist in pulling them out, or they will assist you. But beware, I say, of those Will-o'-the-Wisps who ride for a point, or perchance you may find yourself, after a gallop of ten miles, on an open common with a select few; while the pack, having been racing their game, are running into him ten miles in an opposite direction.

Now it chanced to be my good fortune, on or about the 28th of the month past, to receive the following billet doux-for sweet was it to my inclination-from a kind sportsman who lives for his friends as well as his own pleasure among the woodlands hard by the forest of Exmoor ; for be it known, the forest is treeless :

"Dear Linton,

"29th August.

"West is down with a first-rate pack, and our old friend Sam, and a whip late in Lord Dacre's kennel, and a stud worthy of the pack. Our sport has been first-rate. Come-the sooner the more welcome-and help me to empty the quaint old bottles which I promised for your curiosity shop.

I replied:

"Dear,

“Yours,”

"29th August. hounds and for a

"The weather is intensely hot here. I long for a sight of the hogshead of Exmoor air; the best medicine in the world. F will drive me up on the 3rd. Have the wine cooled; I will be there.

Bright was the morning that I started for his hospitable home, where for three successive years I have enjoyed a week's uninterrupted pleasure; and ere the dinner-bell had sounded o'er the woodlands, I had met with a hearty welcome. Two hours afterwards one of the quaint bottles had been emptied of its excellent contents; and, seated in his snuggery, with open window and a glorious autumn moon shining o'er the dark pine forests, we spoke of hind and hart, hound and huntsmanthough the heat was intense-till the clock proclaimed another day had passed. Out of the trio there pleasantly assembled, however, it so chanced that I was doomed alone to meet the hounds on the forest eighteen miles distant from the home of my friend on the following morning, my horse, however, was in the stable, my leathers in my port

manteau, and my heart in the sport; and what was distance in such weather amid such scenery, and with the hope of a chace in the van? 6 A.M., therefore, found me on Old Jorrocks's back, as good an old hunter as ever took a fence, though somewhat out of condition, and past the meridian of life's elasticity, but with undeniable pluck, breed, and stamina; in his early days, doubtless, a sort of Kingston; in his latter an agreeable Rozinante. Blue was the vault of Heaven, and brightly shone the sun, as calmly we pursued our way along the borders of the sparkling Barle, and mounted the steep woodland hill which led towards the forest; and beautiful was the scene we beheld on gaining its heathered surface. But anon as we rose higher, the blue heavens became overcast, and dense clouds and mist swept over the forest, leaving only the route discernible. Strange and saddening was the effectas must it be, I fancy, to all accustomed to moorland scenery-this sudden change from elastic air and bright sunshine to driving clouds, mist, and moisture; but the change in this instance was only the forerunner of hot and brilliant weather, for scarcely had I reached the Red Deer-a lone hostelry on the moor which boasts of few luxuries within or without—than all again was brightness and beauty. Here I gave my gallant steed, Old Jorrocks, half a bucket of gruel and a feed of oats, with a few handfuls of beans intermixed; for which, could he have spoken, he would have uttered words polite, though I had hitherto only called on his energies for a ten-mile walk; and having seen that he enjoyed these creature-comforts, I attended to mine own in the way of two fresh eggs and a cup of liquid called tea, but I fancy the earth of China never nourished the shrub from which it was plucked. We had still eight miles to the meet-Brendon Barton, within a few short miles of beautiful Lynmouth. But time there was to take it coolly, and Jorrocks being refreshed, we walked on merrily, the fresh breezes from the moor conveying to the smell the honied essence of the heather. Simonsbath was gained, and looked ou with interest as the forest-residence of a good sportsman, and the best, as I would fain hope he may not be the last, true-deer preserver. A few miles beyond Simonsbath we crossed a rippling brook, the merest mountain rivulet in size; yet was it the first evidence of a mighty river, which, flowing past the city of Exeter, becomes navigable for ships of great tonnage, and joins the ocean at Exmouth as the river Exe. Beyond this a steep ascent rises on the moor; and as we approached its summit, two open carriages, drawn by post-horses and filled with cheerful tourists who were crossing the forest, commenced their descent. At the same time Old Jorrocks pricked up his ears and walked out with renewed vigour, while I fancied-and my fancy was correct-that I could just hear the notes of the huntsman's horn in the vale below.

"Have you seen the hounds, sir?" I exclaimed to a gentleman who sat on the box of the foremost carriage.

66

They are just over the crest of the hill," he replied.

Welcome intelligence. So far my hopes were all but gained. Lightly I touched Jorrocks's side with the spur; he answered to the touch. We gained the hill-top, and what a sight was there!

Far in the distance, yet clear to view, rolled the blue waters of the Bristol Channel, backed by the picturesque outline of the Welsh coast. To my right, before me, as towards the route I had approached, miles

and miles of treeless moor were seen; yet so undulating, and painted here and there with extensive patches of purple heather, that that which in mid-winter time would be bleak and cheerless, could be pictured in imagination into a vast region of flowing verdure and flower-land on which groups of cattle, as groups of Exmoor ponies ranged wild-pictures of nature unsurpassed in beauty for an artist's eye; which, nevertheless, artists rarely paint. While below, a densely-wooded ravine, from which forked, as it were, two smaller wooded ravines, branching upwards to the Moor and descending till they opened in a broader base to the very shore, where, close-nestled beneath sheltering hills, and hard by the rushing tide, reposed the little town or village of Lynmouth. In these luxuriant woods the tufters were hard at work, cheered by old Sam and their gallant master; while on the heathered slope above were scattered two score or more of anxious sportsmen. Ladies also were there, and visitors from Linton and Lynmouth; among others, that firstrate sportsman Lord Gifford and his lady; ponies and horses, and even donkeys, being in great demand; while groups of pedestrians covered each neighbouring high land, anxious to view away the stag.

I dismounted from my faithful Jorrocks, and, throwing myself on a heathered bank, gazed with admiration on a scene replete with interest and beauty; but I had pleasure and sport in anticipation, which I scarcely dared to hope for.

The deer, regardless of the intense sun's heat, evidently preferred the fresh breezes of the forest to the heated shades of the woodlands, and outlying deer were soon reported on the moor. The tufters were, therefore, withdrawn from covert, the pack called on, and, headed by old Sam and their master, we trotted rapidly towards Badjory Common. Scarce had I time to shake hands with him, and to pass some approving remarks on the beauty of the scene and condition of his hounds, ere three well-grown hinds were viewed quietly feeding on the base of a green vale, through which the waters of Exe were flowing. In a moment the whole field pulled up, breathless with delight; and the pack, under the strict command of Sam, were kept in hand, ready for the chase. Our approach, however, was sufficient: no animal has a keener scent than has a deer, or leaves a warmer one on his slot. They turned, looked for an instant on their remorseless enemies, and fled, fleet as the wind across, the forest. The pack, on being drawn to the spot where the hinds had been feeding, instantly settled like a hive of bees on the scent; and "Forward, away!" with one unanimous voice, was echoed over hill and dale.

From Lark's Hall, or Badgery, the race continued without the slightest check to Mills Slade, at the entrance of one of the steep ravines before named; but disdaining to take shelter in the woodlands or in the waters which flow towards the channel, be turned and continued his race to the steep woods near Culbone, impracticable for horsemen, and there, after a brief respite, fell to the eager pursuit of the gallant pack. And thus terminated a run of full twelve miles, pace throughout the very best. Every horse in the field had enough; and I must confess Old Jorrocks had more than enough; so dismounting from his back, though light was the weight he had borne, I walked quietly back down the steep hill to Lynmouth, full of unalloyed delight with my day's sport, undisturbed by the slightest regret that I had come thus

far, and with a full conviction that wild deer hunting is a noble sport.

As the day closed, and the bright sun was replaced by a glorious harvest moon, I walked forth through the village, and seating myself on a bench close to the waters of the channel, enjoyed the narcotic fumes of my meerschaum, while ruminating on the pleasures of the day past.

It may appear romantic that I again allude to the scene which presented itself, but I shall make no apology. It has been my good fortune to wander, both at home and abroad, to various spots of interest and beauty-possibly I have had more than my share of continental wanderings; and yet have I seen few of Nature's beauties superior to that which I there looked on. High above the dark woods, which on all sides encompass the peaceful village, shone the brilliant full moon, casting its brightness on the flashing waters of the Lynn, which, rolling over innumerable fantastic rocks, joined the ocean. As I there sat, enjoying alike the scene as the cool air of night, an aged gentleman, having seated himself on the same bench, we entered into the following conversation:

"You have had good sport to-day, sir!"

"Admirable! nothing can exceed the enjoyment of such a run, over such a country, with such brilliant weather. It is to me a matter of astonishment that your little town is not filled with sportsmen, from afar, to take part in the chase."

"True, sir, true," he replied "but the good old days of deer hunting are gone by, as are many of the other good things in merrie England. I well recollect when Lynmouth was crammed with sportsmen during the stag-hunting season, and splendid were the runs we had— at times, four hours or more over the forest; and when the deer was brought to bay or took soil, all were up to see the death. But now, high-bred horses and high-bred hounds do the work in half the time, and half the sport is lost.'

"Pardon me, but I cannot agree with you," I replied. "Your sport might have been all you say; but it is far better now. The same distance is gone over truly in half the time, and those who ride to the hounds are, generally speaking, better mounted and better horsemen ; but the chase is far more exciting, and there is ample time to see the hounds work, which, after all, is the true pleasure of hunting. I am not one of those who think a scurry of thirty minutes and a kill, possibly without having seen a hound throughout, constitutes hunting; but I do think that twelve miles over the forest, with two hours and a half to accomplish it, is a run that may well satisfy the most ardent sportsman."

66

"Yet in other days we had better sport on the moor than now," said the old gentleman; "and, I fear, the deer are fast on the decline." "The very facts you name scare away sportsmen from other countries," I observed. Young hands no longer rise by daylight to hunt, nor do they desire a four hours' run; and yet if a practical knowledge of what stag-hunting on Exmoor Forest really is was made known to the world, and that people would come and judge for themselves, I doubt not if the good old times you speak of would not cause the pleasures of the past to be more than rivalled by the pleasures of the present."