Free Love and the Loveless by Henry Williamson Page B

furrows seeming to converge at the oval spinney four hundred yards distant. Phillip watched hounds running into the trees: almost immediately he saw a fox loping between two furrows, coming towards them. Jack saw it at the same time, and yelled “Tally ho!” and pointed. The fox stopped, crouched down, and slunk off at right angles, crossing the furrows to get away from the rest of the field at the edge of the park. “Tally ho!” yelled many voices, as arms pointed at the fox, which began to race. There were encouraging cries from the huntsman, followed by hounds whimpering excitedly as they streamed out of the spinney. The huntsman took off his cap and scooped them on. When they got the scent of the fox they gave tongue. Huntsman blew short stuttering blasts on his horn, followed by a long note: and repeated the Gone Away twice, the final note being prolonged as though triumphantly.
    Black Prince, said Jack afterwards, had evidently been hunted before. Fighting for its head, the gelding went off at a gallop. Cries of ‘Hold your horse!’ were heard in desperation by itsrider, or passenger, who found himself most insecure as he pulled the reins, the effort causing him to push against the irons, which extended on the leathers at an angle of almost forty five degrees to the vertical, while he tried to balance on the base of his spine. Before him was a cut-and-laid hedge, on the farther side a ditch, and then grazing, details of which he saw clearly and impersonally as he went down face first, slowly. Without apprehension, as though it was happening apart from himself, he met the earth, harmlessly, while about him legs and bellies of horses were descending. When he got on his feet he saw riders cantering away.
    “Are you all right?” asked Jack, who had turned back. “Good man! Hart will catch your ’oss.”
    Phillip was soon remounted and going across the meadow, and through a gate into a ploughed field, the headland of which was still stubble. Three hundred yards off he saw riders jumping a hedge. Throw your heart over first, he remembered the riding instructor saying. Hotly he held back Prince to a canter, and let him have his head two lengths from the thorn-setts. Leaning forward with hands held low by the pommel he found, to his surprise, that he was over; and with exultation followed the hoof-marks across furrows. Another fence in front, this one tall, with several years’ growth sticking up blackly with thorns. Crikey, he thought: it was six feet high, though thin on the two top feet. Some of the horses in front were refusing. When he got up he saw, and heard, All Weather Jack crashing his way through, thorns scratching on leather. Give Prince his head, lean forward and low, lean forward, shut eyes, toes in. “UP, Prince!” Lean back, you fool, down, down, Prince stumbling. Hold up his head! Good boy, Prince! He galloped after the half-dozen in front. Wonderful, wonderful! Clods of earth flying from hooves in front; then sudden checkings, horses reined back. “’Ware wire! ’Ware wire!”
    “’Ware wire!” he called over his shoulder, to the groom, alone following. They cantered down field, to a gate at the far corner. Beyond, he galloped down a sloping grassy field to catch up with Jack.
    From the rise he saw hounds and pink coats a quarter of a mile away, running strongly; while above the meadow an aeroplane was circling.
    There was a brook at the bottom of the valley. The thrusters flew this, he saw, while others turned off to a crossing place forbullocks made of railway sleepers packed with earth, where the fox had run. He hesitated: indecision tore him: desperately he decided to follow the thrusters, who were now going hard over the meadow beyond.
    The aeroplane was now banking over his head. Looking up, he saw two faces. A hand waved. It was a Maurice Farman. It came down to about a hundred feet, and making a slight banking turn, headed diagonally over the meadow. He saw that hounds had also