"THE FIFE HOUNDS;" OR, A FEW MORE DAYS WITH "MERRY JOHN" IN HIS OWN LIttle Kingdom. BY BRUSHWOOD. "Yes, the hunt are all met, and the country is famous, BODMINTON HUNT SONG. On Wednesday, 23rd February, we left the "Banks of the Pow," to pay another visit to "Merry John" (Walker) in his own little kingdom; and as their fixed time for the following day, Thursday 24th, was at Ceres in their "Leicestershire country," we were in high hopes of something grand ou the morrow. On reaching the "fair city of Perth" in which we had intended taking up our abode for the night, with the idea that we would be able to reach the "fixture" in time next day, we found that this could not be done, and so moved on at midnight by the mail train to bonnie Dundee, where we arrived at two A.M. After turning in at the "Royal" for a few hours, we crossed the Frith of Tay to Newport by the first steam-boat at seven A.M., and from the latter place proceeded by coach to Cupar, where we arrived by nine to breakfast. On the way the country looked as hard as bricks, and anything but like a hunting morning. Once landed, we soon found our way to "Merry John's" snuggery, where, after the usually hearty welcome and greeting of old friends, our first question was "Do you think you will be able to go to cover to-day?" and the reply "Yes! only we must not be in over big a hurry in throwing off: the sun will soon be out, the frost will go, and then, as we draw the famous covert called Kidd's Whin'a sure find my lads, will soon blow his pipe out; besides, do you think, Mr. Brushwood, that we are to have you come a distance of fifty miles and upwards, and not try to show you some sport? No, no, that won't do; and as you have never seen the far-famed Kidd's Whin,' I will be proud to show you one of the prettiest coverts in our 'kingdom."" In this merry mood we accompanied our friend to the kennel, and saw him draw twenty couple of his gallant warriors for the foray, among which we observed many old friends, and particularly noticed" Wild Boy," "Whimsy," and "Welcome," by Lord Yarborough's "Dreadnought," out of Mr. Robertson's "Wisdom;" also "Beauty," "Brevity," and "Bell-maid," "Druid," and "Damper," all from the "Dreadnought" blood; neither should" Blucher," "Bellman," "Bluecap," "Bonuylass," nor "Blameless" be forgotten. They are one litter, and got by "The Fife," "Auditor," out of their "Buxom"-all two-year-old hunters, and all as good as gold. We must on, though, for the meet, which we reached by eleven A.M., and found a well-mounted field waiting the arrival of the hounds; but as the ground was still very hard, we were, as Johnny said, " in no great hurry to throw off." At length, however, after we had had a little gossip in the road, and a peep at some of the pretty damsels of Ceres (the fixture was close to the village), at a quarter past eleven we moved on to the top of the hill, and got a beautiful bird's-eye-view of the "Kidd's Whin," which lay to the left of the road on the top of the hill, surrounded by a beautiful open country for miles around. At this period of our proceedings our friend "Merry John" sang out, "Now, Mr. Brushwood, there's a beautiful covert, one of our very best, and many a glorious day's sport we have had from it;" he then added, addressing the second whip; "Jem, ride on quietly to the far end of the covert, and keep your eyes open, and see that he don't give us the slip it ought to contain a good 'un, for I and my merry lads are determined to catch him this time; though the noble fellow beat us last trial after a glorious burst of forty minutes." All this was done and said in such a masterly manner, the very hounds seemed to understand every word that fell from their master's lips; and although we were yet two fields from the covert, each order was given in a half sort of whisper, at which key you might have heard this prince of huntsmen saying to his merry pack, "Softly! my good lads: I know you are eager for the fray; but just take time for a minute, and I will soon give you the word, for I know where you would like to be." Any observant eye, in looking at the hounds at this moment, would see that they knew that they were in the neighbourhood of a covert that they all recognized as readily as any member of the hunt, and that they were waiting only for the word to be up and at him. Jem having had as much law as sent him to his post, Walker and Dick (first whip) trotted quietly up to the covert, and the "Hoick in!" being given, every hound in a moment was over the wall and buried in the gorse. What a pleasure it is to see a pack of hounds under such command! What a moment of delightful but anxious suspense! in which state we remained for a few minutes with not a whimper, while some of the members of the hunt began to whisper a "blank for a sovereign, what a pity!" Others would remark-some young eager sportsmen-"Not all drawn: must find;" and as soon as said done; for old "Benedict" struck a note that elicited a welcome cheer from his master. Again all was silent, and a few more remarks made as to the "gospel" of the challenge-Walker by this time being in the heart of the covert, and encouraging each eager hound to brush him up. Another note from "Benedict"-another from "Governess," and then the glad tidings from "Merry John" of "All right, my boys! push him up, my lads! keep quiet, you Sirs on the left! only let him go away, and then you can do as you like, and catch him if you can:" but another minute, and the whole gorse was alive with the merry music. We remained in this beautiful covert for fully five minutes; by which time Reynard found it too hot to hold him, and broke away at the south end of the wood in a line for Forefield, then turned short to the left for Burntfield, left Griegston to the right, and going at a most terrific pace over the open pastures, crossed the brook in the bottom, "where ford there was none." Thence on in a straight line for Kemback; but being headed at the lime quarries, he turned to the right, and gained that beautiful covert on the top of the hill, the property of Captain Thompson, master of the "Atherstones;" left this in a minute, and pointed for Drumcarry Craig, where the hounds being too fast for him he retraced his steps, at a most killing pace, to this last covert, in which the hounds ran into him-time, forty-five minutes, thirty-five of which were done in the open and over a most beautiful country. The five best men in the field were Mr. White Melville, the master of the hounds; Captain Rait, than whom there are few better; also Mr. Bethune, a first-rate man over any country; Mr. Wedderburn, of Berkhill; and Merry John, on his famous horse "Nimrod;" .of whose worth you may judge, when I mention that Walker has refused 200 guineas for him. This capital scurry being over, and the day still young, we moved on, for a second fox, to Teases, a beautiful covert, drawn blank; also Kilmuck, another blank; and then trotted on to Clattoden, the property of Mr. Balfour, of Balbirnie, a thorough sportsman, and one of the best men in the Fife Hunt; in this cover, although known to have contained a fine litter of cubs during the summer, nothing but an old fox had been found during the past season, and on this occasion it too turned out a blank. Something surely must be wrong here: were we master of such fine lying, we should be very apt to take the knight of the velveteen to account on the state of affairs: for where, in the name of wonder, could all the "pretty chickens have gone to since autumn? Or, may be, the ancient robber of Clattoden has been among them of whose overthrow a curious story is told by one of the Scottish kings, said to have been James IV. Happening to pass that way alone, he was attacked by a son of the laird of Clatto; but the king with one blow from his sword cut off the right hand of the robber, with which he had seized hold of the bridle of his horse. The assailant instantly fled, and the king having taken up the severed hand, rode off with it. On the next day, attended by a proper retinue, his majesty visited the tower of Clatto, and demanded to see Seaton and his sons, who were noted as hardy and enterprizing men. The old man affecting to be gratified by the king's request, conducted his family into the presence; but it being observed that one of the sons was absent, an inquiry was made after him. It was alleged that he had been hurt by an accident, and was at that moment confined to his bed. The king, however, insisted on seeing him, and being at length led to his apartment desired to feel his pulse, whereupon the young man held out his left hand; but his majesty requesting to have the right, the poor fellow, after many excuses, had to confess that he had lost his right hand. The king then told him that he had a hand which was at his service if it fitted him; and producing the gory hand of the robber, explained how it came into his possession, when the whole family were thereupon apprehended, tried, and executed for the various robberies and murders they had committed. Such is the tradition as to the castle and den of Clatto-at the present writing one of the prettiest coverts in the Fife Hunt; and one in which, we earnestly trust, Mr. Balfour may have a brace of red robbers the next time it is drawn by the hounds. Having quitted this unpromising part of the country, and gone on to Toomden, a beautiful covert belonging to that good sportsman, Lord Glasgow, we found a gallant fox in a moment, which was viewed by Mr. Bethune, rattled for ten minutes in covert, and at last forced to break at the south side, right amongst the crowd of horsemen. He went away for Fenage, Walton-hill, to Skelpie, leaving Clattoden and Dovan Common to the left, and on in a straight line, over a heavy country, for Fronthill; through it and Burnturk Wood to the left also, when we stopped the hounds at Chapel, his nose being then straight for Drummie Wood; but as it was five P.M., and the snow falling fast, we deemed we had all had enough for the day, and so gave into him. Time forty-five minutes-not so fast as with the first fox, but plenty of pace to kill him, had we allowed the hounds to have gone on. Mr. Bethune and Captain Rait rode their two fa mous greys, and were well carried-of course. Saturday, 26th: The meet for this day was Mount Melville, the residence of the master of the hounds; but owing to the snow that had fallen on the previous evening, that gentleman did not deem it prudent to hunt; although, for our part, we must confess that we felt rather disappointed, as we saw nothing material to prevent hunting, had an hour's law or so been given, as the white rascal was fast disappearing, and quite gone by two o'clock. By then, however, we had found our way back to the auld town of Cupar, and were well solaced by Merry John's pleasant conversation in the evening. Tuesday, 29th: Ardrie: drew Redwells, Kinduncan, and Kinglassie Wood blank; found in a beautiful covert near the sea-side, some two miles or so east of that ancient seat of learning, St. Andrews; went away close to his brush, and had a beautiful twenty minutes' run over a fine flat country, ultimately marking him to ground in Kinglassie Wood. Thursday, March 2nd: Lindores: found our old friend that gave us the famous burster in November last, and went over a deal of country with rather an indifferent scent; after one hour and forty minutes he got to ground in a drain near Parbroth, where we left him in the hopes of meeting with him again before the season is over. Saturday, 4th: Inchdarnie: found at Balgedie Craigs; ran him hard in covert for twenty minutes, and went to ground; drew some other coverts in that part of the country blank, and cut it early in the afternoon to save our nags for Tuesday, at the far-famed Belleston Craig. Tuesday, 7th, will be marked in the tablet of our memory with a white stone: the fixture was Lathallan Gate, but trotted at once to the famous covert called Belleston Craig, where we found in a moment, the hounds being scarcely over the fence before bold reynard was viewed away across the fallows by one of the whips-in another minute they were on his line, and steaming away over the open at a terrible rate for Gibbelston; passed the house at rail speed, and bending to the right, gained the beautiful and picturesque den of Balcarres, up which he went with not a moment's breathing time-remember it is no small den, being fully two miles long. On gaining the open he made straight for Kelbrackmont, skirting which, he went on at the same merry pace for Lingo; through it; crossed the den, and over the open, through Lathuckie; turned to the right, and went over a beautiful grass country for miles, with not a bush to hold him, for Kinauldie Den, crossing the brook at the west end of the den, and being "fairly pulled down" in the open within a short distance of Kinauldie House. Time thirty-six minutes, and distance fully ten miles. The field was very select at the finish; there being none but good men and true, that were able to live with the hounds in this very fast run, and these were the master of the hounds, John White Melville, of Mount Melville, Mr. Wedderburn, of Birkhill, Mr. Bethune, of Blabo, Mr. Haig, of Cameson Bridge, Merry John, his first whip Dick, and two others. These alone saw the find and finish of this splendid run over the best part of the Fife Hunt's best eastern country. Although the day was still young all seemed satisfied, and we retraced our way to Cupar, where we remained over the night, had some more merry chat with Merry John, and on the following day found our way back to the Banks of the Pow, perfectly delighted with our trip to the little kingdom, in which we enjoyed ourself" right merrilie," and saw some very brilliant sport; indeed, no one could wish for better-sport such as may make the members of the Fife Hunt well proud of their hounds and huntsman, and that must confirm the fact of there being none better to be found in this land of mountain and of mist. Post time being up, we will hold hard for the present, and so believe us, dear Maga, Yours faithfully, Banks of the Pow, March 11, 1848. BRUSHWOOD. RECOLLECTIONS. "Et quorum pars magna fui." It was a college life that first introduced me to my friend H—. He was notoriously the best shot, the best rider, and the best billiardplayer in Oxford; and for fighting, he had no more objection to crack his head than his bottle. For this latter he always displayed a remarkable affection. "Where is the soda water?" was the reiterated echo from his bedroom before morning chapel. "Here, sir," in meek response squeaked forth the chemist's boy-a distorted looking object, such as Dame Nature might have moulded under the influence of an extra dose of brandy-and-water, to make herself laugh. "Well, why the and the Incubus fled down the stairs just in time to save himself the alternative offered-of being kicked down. Then H's regularity in chapel was alarming; little witted our Dean that yon sober grey trowser (like many a fair outside) deceitfully |