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Off to the Hunt over the Downs

Hunting the Red Deer,

WITH THE DEVON AND SOMERSET STAGHOUNDS

Taken by kind permission of the Masters of the Hunt.

Photographs by Mr. H. M. Lomas.

1-Babyhood-Promising Young Puppies.

Babyhood of the Staghound
2-The Devon and Somerset Pack.
3-Hounds "Al Home"-Feeding Time in Kennel.
4-On the way to the Meet.
5-The Meet, in an old Somerset village.
6-Hounds and Riders Pass through Dunster.
7-A Hunting Morning-On the way to Exmoor.
8-Late Comers make up for lost time on the hard high road.
9-Meet on the open moor, near Dunkery Beacon.
10-Kennelling the Pack at Cloutsham-In the Barn.
11-Calling out the "Tufters"-About five couple of wise old hounds used to find the deer.
12-Going into the Woods to try for a Stag.
13-An old "Native" locating the Deer.
14-A Monarch of the Moor breaks out of the woods with his wives.
15-The Stag makes a Double and leaves his hinds.

Showing the intricacies of the Bioscope
16-Riding back for the Pack (i.e. all the hounds previously left kennelled in the barn.)
17. The Pack is released and taken to where the Stag crossed the hill.
18. Full Cry on the line of the Stag.
19-Away over the bracken.
20-The Stag makes for a river and gives al lively time.
21-He breaks through hounds and makes for the hill-tops again.
22-Good going over Lucott Moor.
23-The pace begins to tell and the stag makes for the wooded valleys.
24-Being hard pressed, takes to water.
25-Pursuit up stream.
26-At Bay-A dangerous customer.
27-At Close Quarters-Too close to be safe.
28-Away he Goes-Having baffled his pursuers he makes towards the coast.
29-View of the Hunters over the hills.
30-Porlock Vale and Hurstone Point lie spread beneath-The stag has gone through the cornes, down to the rocky ocast below, and out to sea.

The Devon and Somerset Staghounds
31-The Fishermen bring him in.
32-Landing the kill.
33-Breaking up the Stag-Tit-bits for the hungry hounds.

Unkennelling the Pack
34-Preparing for the homeward return of the pack.
35-Tired hounds bathing in the cool waters.
36-Blooding a novice.
37-Examining the dead stag's antlers and judging his age.
38-Carting stag home for venison.
39-Hunters return home.
40-A cool drink by the wayside.

Total Length 750 feet.
Duration of Exhibit, 15 minutes.

HUNTING THE RED DEER WITH THE DEVAON AND SOMERSET STAGHOUNDS

Away down in the out-of-the-world West of England, where rise the River Exe and Badgworthy Water, ere they make their ways North-South· to the English and Bristol Channels, on a tract of beautiful yet desolate moorland, roam herds of wild red deer. No timid, tame little creatures these, but fine and powerful, wild and wily, are the four-footed inhabitants of this tract of country, once the Royal Forest of Exmoor. The stag, or full-grown red deer, is armed with large and heavy wide-spreading antlers, is large in body, and is almost double the weight of the park deer we are familiar with.

On the Downs, Exmoor
We first hear of stag-hunting over the forest in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and nowadays there gather every year great numbers of well-known sportsmen from all over England, in fact, from all over the globe, to take part in this wild sport.

On the Scent-In Full Cry
To visit the puppies, a tumbling mass of youngsters, ere they grow up into sedate hounds, and are drafted into the pack, then later to visit the old hounds at feeding time, is an interesting sight.
Let us, by the aid of the Urbanora, follow in an ideal day's sport; see the big hounds being brought to the meeting place, see the crowds of riders as well as hundreds of people in carriages and on foot, coming in from the surrounding villages were they are staying, and note the beauty of these quaint villages and the glorious scenery through which we pass, till getting up amongst the hills we too arrive at the meet.

Pursued up Stream by the Pack
Soon the Master arrives, and with the cry of "Hounds, please !" the pack is taken and temporarily kennelled in some adjacent farm building, then about five couple of wily old hounds are called out and taken off to try the woods where a good stag is reported to be lying. The riders have moved off to various points of vantage whence they can see what is happening, when suddenly a farmer near us sees something which excites him, something is moving in that distant wood ; yes ! there, out of the wood and over the sky-line, trot a fine stag and some binds; then leaving them he crosses the meadows and makes for the hilltop.
Next the " tufters " (i.e., the first lot of hounds used to find the stag) come rushing out of cover full cry on his line. These must be stopped, so the huntsman and some others ride after them and stop them on the open hilltop, where the stag crossed. whilst the_Master gallops back to release the "pack" (i.e., the main body of hounds, left at the farm) with which he is soon back again, followed by a large crowd of riders, the horses all excitement at the sudden rush.
A few minutes more giving the Master and huntsmen just time to change on to fresh horses, then the pack is laid on to the line, and we are off. Up hill and down dale we go, with here and there a riderless horse, for although on top it is good going, the hillsides are very steep and the bottoms of the valleys soft and treacherous.

An argument in Mid-stream
After some miles of hard going it looks as if our run were at an end, for there below us is our stag, beating up and down a big stream, the hounds close upon him ; but he breaks away, and we once more make for the top, where he seems to have lost himself utterly and the huntsmen are baffled, when suddenly, just as it seemed hopeless, out he jumps from a clump of scrub, and makes for water once again. The hounds do not mean to be baffled this time, so close on him quickly, but with his great antlers he beats them off, and discretion being the better part of valour, he then makes off to the moor once more, in the direction of the coast.
Soon the cool evening breeze meets us, giving our tired horses new life, and there, below us, lies the blue Bristol Channel, shimmering in the late summer sun. There too goes a red speck, with white specks after it, through that golden cornfield. Those are the stag and hounds, making for the shore so riding as far as possible we at last tie up our horses, and scramble down the precipitous cliff, only to see the stag swimming out to sea.
Back again to our horses we scramble, and ride to Porlock Weir, to see the fishermen, news having been brought them, putting out to sea after the stag. An hour elapses ere the boat with the captured stag comes back; he has had six years or more of good wild life, living as a king upon the wild moor, and has now given us a great run.
"Who whoop !" cries the huntsman, as he throws the stag's entrails to the hungry hounds, then gives the "slots" (feet) away as trophies, and marks a newcomer on the face with a piece of flesh, as a sign of his initiation to the sport.

Dragging the Stag from the Stream
The day is over, our mounts are gruelled, and we start on our long ride homeward, taking it easily, and stopping to water the horses at a stream. Then on again, taking with us om faithful Bioscope which will have to be out many a day again, till at last, after a total of 1,200 miles over hill and down dale, we secure a representative series of pictures of this noble sport ; to place before audiences the world over by "Urbanora."
The most exciting Stag Hunt series ever photographed.

URBAN 1905-02