Soon the hounds recovered the line and
swung off to the right, back across four or five fields, so as to enable
the rest of the hunt, by making an angle, to come up. Then we jumped
over a very high board fence into the main road, out of it again, and on
over ploughed fields and grass lands, separated by stiff snake fences.
The run had been fast and the horses were beginning to tail. By the time
we suddenly rattled down into a deep ravine and scrambled up the other
side through thick timber there were but four of us left, Lodge and
myself being two of the lucky ones. Beyond this ravine we came to one
of the worst jumps of the day, a fence out of the wood, which was
practicable only at one spot, where a kind of cattle trail led up to
a panel. It was within an inch or two of five feet high. However, the
horses, thoroughly trained to timber jumping and to rough and hard
scrambling in awkward places, and by this time well quieted, took the
bars without mistake, each one in turn trotting or cantering up to
within a few yards, then making a couple of springs and bucking over
with a great twist of the powerful haunches.
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