And with Romance still among the pack.
At one point the whipper-in was rating a hound, and said (I thought) “Back to him, Climax!”I said, “We have a Climax, too.”
“No, that’s (some other name). We don’t have a Climax.”
“You have Darling, Romance, and Passion, but no Climax? Then you are doing it wrong.”
Clear skies with rain.
I attached myself to someone I suspected belonged among my keen hunter hall of fame:
and I wasn’t disappointed.
First on a jungly hill- it’s late November in England, and look at the foliage!
In a good spot, she came down the ravine above us, then back up, and bang.
Then up again we went, this time in exactly the right spot:
Around behind us, and bang.
A redraw up the ridge, and back she came toward the same spot!
Meanwhile, from another corner of the wood:
She didn’t look hunted hunted to me, so I didn’t holloa. And in fact she wasn’t, but they lost her, and came back to that one.
Round and round in the woods below- she came almost right upto us but turned back and eventually got away.
Then up onto the moors, where we saw very little.
The rains came down, and home.
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