B dropped round for lunch and just as we were finishing our sausages and eggs, the sudden arrival of muddy four-wheel-drives outside the cottage reminded me that the hunt was out today. From the vehicles emerged a distinctly odd looking group of followers, all puffy red faces, green plaid and Barbour jackets, so grasping our coffees we joined them at the top of the field opposite. A red jacket appeared at the bottom of the hill and employing my best hunt lingo I enquired if the hounds were drawing the cover there. They were indeed and having ascertained that they were not pursuing a piece of cloth soaked in aniseed, I asked if they had caught up with any today. ' None yet, ' came the reply as we looked on. After a few minutes during which time pale dogs from the pack could be seen working the woodland, a horn sounded to indicate a blank to which the hounds obediently trotted from the cover in file. The hunting ban has been fantastic for hunts. The anti-s and saboteurs satisfied with their victory no longer turn out, leaving the men and women and hounds to get on with their drag hunting. That's what they do of course, but as one huntsman put it to me ' Charlie usually gets the job of putting down the trail '.
I've never been involved in hunting, probably because I never got on with horse riding as a child but I enjoy the spectacle when I see it. Those impossibly tall, lean horses topped with figures which could have ridden straight from a Hardy novel and the hounds, tough and fit enough to run all day, yet possessing a kindly, lolling demeanour.
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