Amphibious Jack," was to draw the Exe that day, and at an early hour the field mustered strong and hearty to see the find-and the finish, which a man, possessing so much skill in the craft, and such versatility of talent, was sure to put upon the picture he was about to exhibit. At seven o'clock Mr. Collier, with his son William, came to the post; the former mounted on a well-bred bay hack, quite in keeping with himself; the latter on a clever thick-set pony. The hounds, about ten couple, straggled after them, in blood and breed undefinable, but in deeds none could excel them; they were badger and hare-pied, black and tan, and tan all over, handsome and deep-tongued; they appeared to have more dash than the old-fashioned harrier, were more lively in their action and not so deeply flewed, owing probably to the fox-hound cross, 66 a drop of Mr. Cockburn's blood here and there, which Collier had judiciously indulged in. On the whole, they were a fine bold lot of hounds, and impressed you with the idea that they combined nose, stoutness, sagacity, indeed every qualification necessary for the pursuit of the otter. The terriers, too, were all ragged and ready, bearing on their brows most unmistakeable proofs of their warlike avocation, and the nature of the varmint they had to contend with. A couple of them ware especially worthy of notice; one, a dark wiry-looking terrier; the other white, with pricked ears, but of course uncropped: both were larger than the ordinary size, and more determined enemies to the animal otter I never yet saw they were aged, the dark one very so, and as they had originally been entered as otter, and had since been kept exclusively for the purpose, they were indeed well up to their work, and never for one moment ceased to persecute their victim from the time he was found till the death-whoop closed the scene. Collier loved them as his life; and to say they were "worth their weight in gold" to an otter-hunter, would be to state a truth the realisation of which their master would be full loth to put in practice; in fact, their services are duly appreciated, and they are valued accordingly.

Now for the sport. The hounds were thrown on the stream at Exe bridge, and drew upwards. About half a mile above the meet the river Barle empties itself into the Exe, and here a consultation was held as to which course should be followed; rumours of an otter being seen on the Barle some time before, induced a preference for it; added to which, Mr. Jekyll was known to live at Hawkridge, near the head of that river; and his hospitality being as well known as his name, the Barle had it by many "ayes.' Alas! we drew to Dulverton without hearing a hound speak; then on, through some of the wildest and most magnificent scenery in the north of Devon; but still no otter scent on the river. Curiously and carefully was it drawn without riot or noise; every hound stuck to the stream as though it were his native element; and we reached Hawkridge, despairing of sport, about one o'clock. Here then we'll pause a moment: not to describe the handsome luncheon which appeared and disappeared with the haste and appetite of hunters, but just to notice a most extraordinary construction, in the shape of a bridge, which crosses, with primæval simplicity, the rapid Barle. Large flat stones are laid horizontally on single upright stones, for the distance of sixty feet. The width of the bridge is barely four feet, while frequent chasms occur between the flat stones, through which the gurgling waters are seen rushing below, and on either side the passenger has nothing to stay his steps from the fate that awaits

A

him, should his head turn giddy or his feet stumble in transitu. ford, broad and shallow during the summer season, enables cattle of all description to cross with safety; but in winter, when the angry waters rise, this bridge, known as "Tarr Steps," forms the only point of communication for miles between the inhabitants of the moorland district divided by the Barle. Horses, however, are frequently led over the steps, and not unfrequently precipitated into the river: the slightest slip does it. Mr. Jekyll, whose nerves are of the lion order, usually rides over, when the ford is impassable. On two or three occasions he has narrowly escaped drowning, his horse generally being uppermost in the struggle for life which takes place on their joint immersion. The gurgling eddies and rocky bottom render escape under such circumstances a perfect miracle. However, neither man nor horse have as yet sustained any serious injury. The history of Tarr Steps" is involved in obscurity; indeed, I have searched in vain among the local authorities for information relating either to its date, or to the architectural simplicity of its construction.

We had now nearly drawn the Barle from its confluence with the Exe to its source on Exmoor; and as the prospect of finding farther up was not at all encouraging, it was agreed to cross Winsford common, and fall into the Exe about two miles above Exton Rock. Accordingly we were soon on the waters, and drew down stream with anxious but misgiving hopes. Suddenly, as we neared the point of confluence, where we diverged in the morning (the last half mile undrawn), a hound spoke. Collier hesitated, drew his breath, and listened. Again the hound threw his tongue, and Collier's eye sparkled with delight. "Have at him, Royal; that's an otter at last." The hound lay at the roots of a large ash tree that overhung a still, deep pool, on a bend of the river; and in a few seconds every hound gave it, as the otter shifted his quarters within the holt for greater security. It seemed a strong place, and doubts were entertained about the terriers being able to get at him. However, an entrance was soon effected by a "true bill:" the white terrier went in, and instantaneously a chain of bubbles shot through the pool and proclaimed him gone. The grateful scent rose to the surface, and every hound dashed into the stream eager for the sport. Collier and his son stood knee-deep on the shallow below, while the otter was allowed to pass up, with the hounds swimming and swearing at him in the rear. For two hours and twenty minutes we had him incessantly at work; the hounds marking, and the terriers bolting him whenever he got into hover. A bitch, called "Charmer," got by Mr. Cockburn's "Wild-boy," distinguished herself greatly; and, since the famous "Waterloo," owned by Mr. Bulteel, I have never seen anything so good in deep water, or so sagacious when hounds were at fault. The otter, stout as he was, at length yielded-a 24 lb. beast-and many a mighty shout rent the air in honour of the victory.

It is a singular fact, and worthy of record, that the present otter was found and eaptured precisely on the same spot where the otter now in the Surrey Zoological Gardens was taken some years ago, and by the same hounds.

I cannot conclude my letter without complimenting Mr. Collier on the excellence of his hounds, the steadiness of his field, and his own unflinching perseverance in the chase-qualities that will always ensure sport and success whenever they are found together.

Whoever takes upon himself to say anything in desparagement of the pursuit, habit, or proceeding of any particular class of men, must expect to call upon himself the censure of that class; so he equally will if he attempts to stigmatize the motives that lead to such pursuits, or the way in which those pursuits are carried on. It certainly is a bold step in any public writer to brave the animadversions of any numerous class of men; but if that class happen to be of a genus whose praise would be anything but desirable, a writer may hope that the honestly giving his opinion will procure for him the countenance of that portion of the community whose support and good opinion are to him both shield and buckler.

I am quite aware of the hornet's-nest that I brave, when I venture an opinion that the very large stakes and handicaps, so much in vogue of late years, have contributed in a most eminent degree to the present state of the turf; a state that must, and will, if continued, lead to its gradual destruction. It matters not that great stakes are made, that great entries are made for them, or that numbers of horses are kept in training: this is no more guarantee of its continuance than is the deceptive and hectic flush of the patient labouring under disease that all but himself are aware is fast hastening him to the grave. Where radical disease exists, it rarely stands still: the patient recovers, or finds his rest only in the tomb.

In that state of disease is the turf, nor will that stand still more than any disease incident to the human frame. Let us hope its former patrons will again rally, and act the good leech at the eleventh hour.

It may be asked, What incentives can be held out to the influential to do this? Certainly, no one can expect them to stand as targets to be shot at, either for the amusement or advantage of the public in general; still less will they do so for the benefit of those whose practices first drove them from the turf. Nor will those who have seceded from it return to it under the hope of pecuniary gain: experience has taught them that, whatever their pristine anticipations may have been, not one man in twenty (I might fairly double that number) has made, does make, can or will make money on the turf.

What, then, can it be hoped will induce such men as I allude to, to undertake a task that would appear somewhat Quixotic in its outset, if the fact be as I state that regenerating the turf would only end in a certain drain on their pockets? The only answer I could make, that can induce a hope that they ever will do so, is by, in my turn, putting a question :

Supposing a set of miscreants had for some time been in the habit of

not only poisoning foxes, but of also poisoning hounds, whenever and wherever they had the opportunity of doing so, are noblemen and men of fortune to be deprived of an ancient and favourite amusement, and be actually driven from the field by a host of reptiles who have neither taste nor spirit to enjoy a manly pursuit? I think I may venture to say they would not; and yet hunting holds out no incentive as to pecuniary advantages, but on the contrary, of course, involves considerable outlay.

Let us, therefore, hope, though the patrons of the turf have, naturally enough, been disgusted by the mode in which turf matters have been carried on, that they will confine that disgust to the perpetrators of the abuse of a noble sport, and not let that disgust extend to the sport itself— a sport that, properly carried on, is, I have ever maintained and ever must maintain, as harmless in its pursuit to those who can afford to enjoy it, as hunting, coursing, shooting, or even fishing itself; for none of these can be enjoyed without more or less incurring a certain expense.

I must certainly allow, that though a man may choose to spend his three or four hundreds, or as many thousands, a year in racing, he must be very weak if he continues to allow those hundreds or thousands to be doubled or trebled without a chance in his favour, merely to fill the pockets of men he must despise. The man of no weight or influence does wisely in withdrawing himself from the turf. He cannot, by continuing the pursuit, in any way tend towards lessening the evil, but will, as certainly as the night treads on the heels of day, involve himself in constant loss, and probable ruin, if he only continues long enough at it. For young, indeed, must he be on the turf if (supposing he has suffered) he hopes by continuing on it to repair his losses. His hopes and wishes may whisper, and his trainer may assure him that he will, and such things have been done; but the probability of his doing so is about as great as that the trainer will discover a hidden treasure by one of his horses striking the ring of a trap-door in the middle of a gallop that a hundred others have daily gone over since racing and Newmarket were known to man.

I am

This is, however, no reason why men of influence should turn craven. They, by a long and strong pull, and, above all, a pull altogether, have the means in their own hands to restore the turf to what it was. not aware, nor have I heard, that mankind is more infamous than it was four score years ago; that the practices on the turf are, I believe no one can doubt. It is therefore only to find out who and what has made them so; and having found the cause of the disease, the business is half finished, its cure in proper hands is certain, and by no means difficult if set about in earnest.

It would occupy too much space were I to attempt to carry on the downward history of the turf during the last century. I say downward, as I call everything travelling that way that is daily merging into a state that ensures its eventual destruction. Independent of this, I in no shape mean to infer that I could trace all the changes that have occurred in turf affairs to their several sources. But as I have before stated, I feel satisfied that the monster stakes, like many monster meetings, have done incredible mischief, and have been the means of calling the attention of an equally monster multitude of persons of a certain class to the turf, who would otherwise never have set such powerful machines in motion as they have done to carry out the measures by which they live.

That there were always a certain number of doubtful, and, indeed, undoubtful, characters on the turf we all know; and that such men occasionally were the means of a race being lost by the best and won by the worser horse is quite certain, Still, these were only in minor matters, and could only be managed in particular cases. The spoil was not worth dividing among a lot, so there was only a few known characters and their few confederates to guard against; but when not only thousands, but tens of thousands became the guerdon to be played for, a regularly organized body set to work, their emissaries spread themselves over the land, and, as when the Inquisition was in force, any victim they make a set at is sure, sooner or later, to become subject to their complicated manœuvres.

That such men uphold the system of large stakes is no matter of surprise. That they pay, or cause to be payed, many entrances for them, is not to be wondered at; for though they may in no way expect reimbursement from the winning of any one of the horses so entered, if they, by making the stake tempting, cause other entries, and thus swell out the amount to be contended for, it is all they want; for where stakes are large, of course bets become large also; and where and when they are, chicanery and the deepest plots of rascality take place in a corresponding degree.

That hundreds of entries, when only, on an average, we will say twenty-five horses start, in no way contributes to actual sport, I think must be allowed. It may, however, be said that the knowledge that such numerous entries will be made keeps up the attraction of such stakes, ensures a large field, and makes it better for the fortunate winLet us look a little to all this.

ner.

In the first place, a monster field has little or nothing to do with sport, though it may, and has, much to do with betting; for having twentyfive horses running, when fifteen out of the number do not get within hailing distance of the leading horses, has no more to do with the race, as to sport, than would a regiment of the Life Guards, if they, in turn, galloped in the rear of the last horse in the race. If every horse in the race could be kept dark, then perhaps the greater number of entries there might be, the greater excitement and speculation there might be, judging from the breeding, appearance, condition, and style of going, as to the probable performance of each horse. But supposing this could be done, what would become of the betting men? We form a may tolerably correct judgment of what sort of a hunter a horse may be by seeing him go and take a fence or two; but though a farmer at a country course may say, "I told you the chesnut would win, I seed by his going he would, no man living can tell what a race-horse can do till he is actually tried; so it would never do to bet on style of going. Ap pearances, as to fitness to run, would probably equally deceive us, for of a horse's fitness the trainer only can judge; and shape and make, though of importance enough to very properly bias our judgment in the purchase of a perfectly untried horse, if we were about to make the purchase, are by no means to be so far depended on as to induce us to lay our money on them, taking them as a guarantee that the performance of the horse will realise their promise. None of these will at all serve or guide the book of the betting man. A dark horse, if such a thing is to be found, is quite a stumbling block to the fraternity. If a horse has escaped