Katerfelto: A Story of ExmoorWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
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Katerfelto: A Story of Exmoor
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
Exmoor (England) -- Fiction
Meantime John Garnet, enjoying the golden hours at Porlock with the
carelessness of his nature, thought no more of the toils that surrounded
him than the wild deer of the forest thought of the many preparations
made for its capture; of the good horses stabled, the staunch hounds
fed, the distances travelled by lords and ladies, the laced coats
tarnished, the bright spurs reddened, the jingling of bit and bridle,
the gathering of horsemen and varlets, the energy expended in a chase
that must be followed with so much pomp and circumstance for its
especial downfall. Large and stately, gliding from field to field, it
passed through the twilight, like some majestic ghost, to crop the yet
unharvested grain, or tear the juicy turnips from the earth, with
appetite unimpaired by misgivings of to-morrow, rejoicing in its pride
of strength, trusting implicitly in those fleet, shapely limbs that bore
it lightly over its native moor, as the wild-bird's pinions waft her
through the air.
How many centuries have elapsed since the fatal morning that saw the Red
King mount for his last ride through the stately stems of Bolderwood!
How many since that woful hunting in Chevy Chase which began in joyous
notes of hound and horn, to end in the battle-cry of the Percy, the
sword strokes of the Douglas, and the pouring out like water of the
bravest, noblest, gentlest blood two countries could afford! Yet has the
pursuit of the wild animal by the instinct of the tame continued to be
the favourite sport of Englishmen from those rude times to our own,
while now, as then, many a bold, adventurous nature, panting for an
outlet to its energies, finds engrossing occupation in the pleasures of
the chase.
Taken in good sense and moderation, as each man's discretion teaches him
to judge, the draught thus offered by a bountiful providence, which
provides for our mental health the sweet no less freely than the bitter,
is exhilarating in the extreme. It rouses our manly qualities of mind
and body, excites our intellectual faculties and our muscular powers,
braces the nervous system, stimulates to healthy effort the vital force
of arm and heart and brain. Many of the most distinguished men in every
time have been "fond of hunting." Few men "fond of hunting" but are
frank of nature, kindly, generous, unselfish, and good fellows, to say
the least!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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