HUNTING TERMS.
Hunting terms are difficult to write, because they are often rather sung
than said. I shall take as my authority one of the best sportsmen of his
day, Mr. Thomas Smith, author of the "Diary of a Huntsman," a book which
has only one fault, it is too short; and give some explanations of my
own.
HUNTSMAN'S LANGUAGE.
On throwing off.--_Cover hoick!_ i. e. _Hark into cover!_
Also--_Eloo in!_
Over the fence.--_Yoi over!_
To make hounds draw.--_Edawick!_
Also--_Yoi, wind him! Yoi, rouse him, my boys!_
And to a particular hound--_Hoick, Rector! Hoick, Bonny Lass!_
The variety of Tally-ho's I have given in another place.
To call the rest when some hounds have gone away.--_Elope forward,
aw-ay-woy!_
If they have hit off the scent.--_Forrid, hoick!_
When hounds have overrun the scent, or he wants them to come back to
him.--_Yo-geote!_
When the hounds are near their fox.--_Eloo, at him!_
HUNTING TERMS
_Billet._--The excrement of a fox.
_Burst._--The first part of a run.
_Burning scent._--When hounds go so fast, from the goodness of the
scent, they have no breath to spare, and run almost mute.
_Breast high._--When hounds do not stoop their heads, but go a racing
pace.
_Capping._--To wave your cap to bring on the hounds. Also to subscribe
for the huntsman, by dropping into a cap after a good run with
fox-hounds. At watering places, before a run with harriers.
_Carry a good head._--When hounds run well together, owing to the
scent being good, and spreading so wide that the whole pack can
feel it. But it usually happens that the scent is good only on the
line for one hound to get it, so that the rest follow him; hence
the necessity of keeping your eyes on the leading hounds, if you
wish to be forward.
_Challenge._--When drawing a fox, the first hound that gives tongue,
"challenges."
_Changed._--When the pack changed from the hunted fox to a fresh one.
_Check._--When hounds stop for want of scent in running, or over-run
it.
_Chopped a fox._--When a fox is killed in cover without running.
_Crash._--When in cover, every hound seems giving tongue at the same
moment: that is a crash of hounds.
_Cub._--Until November, a young fox is a cub.
_Drawing._--The act of hunting to find a fox in a cover, or covert, as
some term it.
_Drag._--The scent left by the footsteps of the fox on his way from
his rural rambles to his earth, or kennel. Our forefathers rose
early; and instead of drawing, hunted the fox by "dragging" up to
him.
_Dwelling._--When hounds do not come up to the huntsman's halloo till
moved by the whipper-in, they are said to dwell.
_Drafted._--Hounds drawn from the pack to be disposed of, or _hung_,
are drafted.
"_Earths are drawn._"--When a vixen fox has drawn out fresh earth, it
is a proof she intends to lay up her cubs there.
_Eye to hounds._--A man has a good eye to hounds who turns his horse's
head with the leading hounds.
_Flighty._--A hound that is not a steady hunter.
_Feeling a scent._--You say, if scent is bad, "The hounds could
scarcely feel the scent."
_Foil._--When a fox runs the ground over which he has been before, he
is running his foil.
_Headed._--When a fox is going away, and is met and driven back to
cover. Jealous riders, anxious for a start, are very apt to head
the fox. It is one of the greatest crimes in the hunting-field.
_Heel._--When hounds get on the scent of a fox, and run it back the
way he came, they are said to be running heel.
_Hold hard._--A cry that speaks for itself, which every one who wishes
for sport will at once attend to when uttered by the huntsman.
_Holding scent._--When the scent is just good enough for hounds to
hunt a fox a fair pace, but not enough to press him.
_Kennel._--Where a fox lays all day in cover.
_Line holders._--Hounds which will not go a yard beyond the scent.
_Left-handed._--A hunting pun on hounds that are not always _right_.
_Lifting._--When a huntsman carries the pack forward from an
indifferent, or no scent, to a place the fox is hoped to have more
recently passed, or to a view halloo. It is an expedient found
needful where the field is large, and unruly, and impatient,
oftener than good sportsmen approve.[202-*]
_Laid up._--When a vixen fox has had cubs she is said to have laid up.
_Metal._--When hounds fly for a short distance on a wrong scent, or
without one, it is said to be "all metal."
_Moving scent._--When hounds get on a scent that is fresher than a
drag, it is called a moving scent; that is, the scent of a fox
which has been disturbed by travelling.
_Mobbing a fox._--Is when foot passengers, or foolish jealous
horsemen so surround a cover, that the fox is driven into the teeth
of the hounds, instead of being allowed to break away and show
sport.
_Mute._--When the pace is great hounds are mute, they have no breath
to spare; but a hound that is always mute is as useless as a rich
epicure who has capital dinners and eats them alone. Hounds that do
not help each other are worthless.
_Noisy._--To throw the tongue without scent is an opposite and equal
fault to muteness.
_Open._--When a hound throws his tongue, or gives tongue, he is said
to open.
_Owning a scent._--When hounds throw their tongues on the scent.
_Pad._--The foot of a fox.
_Riot._--When the hounds hunt anything beside fox, the word is "Ware
Riot."
_Skirter._--A hound which is wide of the pack, or a man riding wide of
the hounds, is called a skirter.
_Stroke of a fox._--Is when hounds are drawing. It is evident, from
their manner, that they feel the scent of a fox, slashing their
stern significantly, although they do not speak to it.
_Sinking._--A fox nearly beaten is said to be sinking.
_Sinking the wind._--Is going down wind, usually done by knowing
sportsmen to catch the cry of the hounds.
_Stained._--When the scent is lost by cattle or sheep having passed
over the line.
_Stooping._--Hounds stoop to the scent.
_Slack._--Indifferent. A succession of bad days, or a slack huntsman,
will make hounds slack.
_Streaming._--An expressive word applied to hounds in full cry, or
breast high and mute, "streaming away."
_Speaks._--When a hound throws his tongue he is said to speak; and
one word from a sure hound makes the presence of a fox certain.
_Throw up._--When hounds lose the scent they "throw up their heads." A
good sportsman always takes note of the exact spot and cause, if he
can, to tell the huntsman.
_Tailing._--The reverse of streaming. The result of bad scent, tired
hounds, or an uneven pack.
_Throw off._--After reaching the "meet," at the master's word the pack
is "thrown into cover," hence "throw off."
There are many other terms in common use too plain to need explanation,
and there are a good many slang phrases to be found in newspaper
descriptions of runs, which are both vulgar and unnecessary. One of the
finest descriptions of a fox-hunt ever written is to be found in the
account of Jorrocks' day with the "Old Customer," disfigured,
unfortunately, by an overload of impossible cockneyisms, put in the
mouth of the impossible grocer. Another capitally-told story of a
fox-hunt is to be found in Whyte Melville's "Kate Coventry." But the
Rev. Charles Kingsley has, in his opening chapter of "Yeast," and his
papers in Fraser on North Devon, shown that if he chose he could throw
all writers on hunting into the shade. Would that he would give us some
hunting-songs, for he is a true poet, as well as a true sportsman!
Another clergyman, under the pseudonym of "Uncle Scribble," contributed
to the pages of the _Sporting Magazine_ an admirable series of
photographs--to adopt a modern word--of hunting and hunting men, as
remarkable for dry wit and common sense, as a thorough knowledge of
sport. But "Uncle Scribble," as the head of a most successful Boarding
School, writes no more.
I may perhaps be pardoned for concluding my hints on hunting, by
re-quoting from _Household Words_ an "Apology for Fox-hunting," which,
at the time I wrote it, received the approbation, by quotation, of
almost every sporting journal in the country. It will be seen that it
contains a sentence very similar to one to be found in Mr. Rarey's
"Horse Training"--"A bad-tempered man cannot be a good horseman."
"TALLY-HO!
"Fox-hunting, I maintain, is entitled to be considered one of the fine
arts, standing somewhere between music and dancing. For 'Tally-ho!' like
the favourite evening gun of colonising orators, has been 'carried round
the world.' The plump mole-fed foxes of the neutral ground of Gibraltar
have fled from the jolly cry; it has been echoed back from the rocky
hills of our island possessions in the Mediterranean; it has startled
the jackal on the mountains of the Cape, and his red brother on the
burning plains of Bengal; the wolf of the pine forests of Canada has
heard it, cheering on fox-hounds to an unequal contest; and even the
wretched dingoe and the bounding kangaroo of 'Australia have learned to
dread the sound.
"In our native land 'Tally-ho!' is shouted and welcomed in due season by
all conditions of men; by the ploughman, holding hard his startled colt;
by the woodman, leaning on his axe before the half-felled oak; by
bird-boys from the tops of leafless trees; even Dolly Dumpling, as she
sees the white-tipped brush flash before her market-cart in a
deep-banked lane, stops, points her whip and in shrill treble screams
'Tally-ho!'
"And when at full speed the pink, green, brown, and black-coated
followers of any of the ninety packs which our England maintains, sweep
through a village, with what intense delight the whole population turn
out! Young mothers stand at the doors, holding up their crowing babies;
the shopkeeper, with his customers, adjourns to the street; the windows
of the school are covered with flattened noses; the parson, if of the
right sort, smiles blandly, and waves his hand from the porch of the
vicarage to half-a-dozen friends; while the surgeon pushes on his
galloway and joins for half-an-hour; all the little boys holla in
chorus, and run on to open gates without expecting sixpence. As for the
farmers, those who do not join the hunt criticise the horseflesh,
speculate on the probable price of oats, and tell 'Missis' to set out
the big round of beef, the bread, the cheese, and get ready to draw some
strong ale,--'in case of a check, some of the gentlemen might like a bit
as they come back.
"It is true, among the five thousand who follow the hounds daily in the
hunting season, there are to be found, as among most medleys of five
thousand, a certain number of fools and brutes--mere animals, deaf to
the music, blind to the living poetry of nature. To such men hunting is
a piece of fashion or vulgar excitement, but bring hunting in comparison
with other amusements, and it will stand a severe test. Are you an
admirer of scenery, an amateur or artist? Have you traversed Greece and
Italy, Switzerland and Norway, in search of the picturesque? You do not
know the beauties of your own country, until, having hunted from
Northumberland to Cornwall, you have viewed the various counties under
the three aspects of a fox-hunter's day--the 'morning ride,' 'the run,'
and 'the return home.'
"The morning ride, slowly pacing, full of expectation, your horse as
pleased as yourself; sharp and clear in the gray atmosphere the leafless
trees and white farmhouses stand out, backed by a curtain of mist
hanging on the hills in the horizon. With eager eyes you take all in;
nothing escapes you; you have cast off care for the day. How pleasant
and cheerful everything and everyone looks! Even the cocks and hens,
scratching by the road-side, have a friendly air. The turnpike-man
relaxes, in favour of your 'pink,' his usual grimness. A tramping woman,
with one child at her back and two running beside her, asks charity; you
suspect she is an impostor, but she looks cold and pitiful; you give her
a shilling, and the next day you don't regret your foolish benevolence.
To your mind the well-cultivated land looks beautiful. In the monotony
of ten acres of turnips, you see a hundred pictures of English farming
life, well-fed cattle, good wheat crops, and a little barley for beer.
Not less beautiful is the wild gorse-covered moor--never to be
reclaimed, I hope--where the wiry, white-headed, bright-eyed huntsman
sits motionless on his old white horse, surrounded by the pied pack--a
study for Landseer.
"But if the morning ride creates unexecuted cabinet pictures and
unwritten sonnets, how delightful 'the find,' 'the run' along
brook-intersected vales, up steep hills, through woodlands, parks, and
villages, showing you in byways little gothic churches, ivy-covered
cottages, and nooks of beauty you never dreamed of, alive with startled
cattle and hilarious rustics.
"Talk of epic poems, read in bowers or at firesides, what poet's
description of a battle could make the blood boil in delirious
excitement, like a seat on a long-striding hunter, clearing every
obstacle with firm elastic bounds, holding in sight without gaining a
yard on the flying pack, while the tip of Reynard's tail disappears
over the wall at the top of the hill!
"And, lastly,--tired, successful, hungry, happy,--the return home, when
the shades of evening, closing round, give a fantastic, curious,
mysterious aspect to familiar road-side objects! Loosely lounging on
your saddle, with half-closed eyes, you almost dream--the gnarled trees
grow into giants, cottages into castles, ponds into lakes. The maid of
the inn is a lovely princess, and the bread and cheese she brings
(while, without dismounting, you let your thirsty horse drink his
gruel), tastes more delicious than the finest supper of champagne, with
a _pate_ of tortured goose's liver, that ever tempted the appetite of a
humane, anti-fox hunting, poet-critic, exhausted by a long night of
opera, ballet, and Roman punch.
"Are you fond of agriculture?--You may survey all the progress and
ignorance of an agricultural district in rides across country; you may
sound the depth of the average agricultural mind while trotting from
cover to cover. Are you of a social disposition?--What a fund of
information is to be gathered from the acquaintances made, returning
home after a famous day, 'thirty-five minutes without a check.' In a
word, fox-hunting affords exercise and healthy excitement without
headaches, or heartaches, without late hours, without the 'terrible next
morning' that follows so many town amusements. Fox-hunting draws men
from towns, promotes a love of country life, fosters skill, courage,
temper; for a bad-tempered man can never be a good horseman.
"To the right-minded, as many feelings of thankfulness and praise to the
Giver of all good will arise, sitting on a fiery horse, subdued to
courageous obedience for the use of man, while surveying a pack of
hounds ranging an autumnal thicket with fierce intelligence, or looking
down on a late moorland, broken up to fertility by man's skill and
industry, as in a solitary walk by the sea-shore or over a Highland
hill."
Oh, give me the man to whom nought comes amiss,
One horse or another--that country or this;
Through falls and bad starts who undauntedly still
Bides up to this motto, "Be with them I will!"
And give me the man who can ride through a run,
Nor engross to himself all the glory when done;
Who calls not each horse that o'ertakes him a screw;
Who loves a run best when a friend sees it too.
WARBURTON of Arley Hall.
FOOTNOTES:
[202-*] The late Sir Richard Sutton, Master of the Quorn, used to say
that he liked "to stick to the band and keep hold of the bridle," that
is to say, make his pack hold to the line of the fox as long as they
could; but there were times when he could not resist the temptation of a
sure "holloa," and off he would start at a tremendous pace, for he was
always a bruising rider, with a blast or two upon his "little
merry-toned horn" which he had the art of blowing better than other
people. To his intimate friends he used to excuse himself for these
occasional outbreaks by quoting a saying of his old huntsman Goosey
(late the Duke of Rutland's)--for whose opinion on hunting matters he
had a great respect--"I take leave to say, sir, a fox is a very quick
animal, and you must make haste after him during some part of the day,
or you will not catch him."--_Letter from Captain Percy Williams, Master
of the Rufford Hounds, to the Editor._