HUNTING.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 132, 5 June 1901, Page 3

HUNTING.

(By "Whalebone.")

Some time ago an Auckland owner lent a well-known betting man a favourite steed to go arlrunting. The horse did not prove a very pleasant ride; he had seen too much racing*, and was evidently in a greater hurry | than his rider at the fences. Next i day the owner, who had viewed the run from the roads, met his friend, and getting in the first words, kindly offered to lend the horse again, adding, "I know you were in love with him, old fellow; you are welcome to him next Saturday." "Thanks, very much," was the reply, "but I'm not in love with him at all; far from it." "Well," said the owner, "I thought you were." "What, made you think so?" said the betting man. "What made me think so? Well, seeing that you stooped to fondle the old fellow round the neck after takiDg you safe over every fence, I most certainly thought so." Fishmonger was the name of the horse.

It was with regret that I had to forego a ride on the Welcome Stakes winner Tolstoi at Saturday's meet of the Pakuranga Hounds, for that gelding, though only tried a few times since being taken up from a long spell, gave me a taste of his quality

as a jumper one mor-aing during the week, and, like most thoroughbreds who take to the business, Tolstoi feels like one that would be clever. The day was wet, however, and hunting in such weather is not pleasant. The rain may have prevented a bigger muster, but a good many were out, and a good run was obtained right away from One Tree Hill to Mount Smart, starting from near Mr J. H. Williamson's residence.

Overheard on the Harp Koad.—Pedestrian: "And where are you off to in such a hurry?" Equestrian: "To the hunt." Pedestrian: "Your horse looks as if he'd been hunting already."' Equestrian: "Oh, he's not mine; I borrowed him." Pedestrian: "And the spurs?" Equestrian: "Oh, no, they are mine." Logical consequence, pace.

Breeches and boots are giving way to flannel bandages and hosiery ;>n the hunting iield. Scarlet and green coats are being discarded. They nevertheless make a most effective mixture, more like what has been pictured to some of us colonials who have never seen hunting as they hunt in Eng-land, that is, the up-to-date style as regards outfit.

It is a rare thing to go out to any meet early in the season without seeing a kicker, but when you find a confirmed one that endangers your limbs and everybody else's, matters become serious. There was one such out with the Pakurauga Hounds recently.

It rarely happens that Australian-bred horses find their way into the hunting fields in New Zealand, but occasionally such is the case. Mr J. G. Ralph, Master of the Pakuranga Hunt Club, sometimes rides Pills, a son of the. Champion Stakes winner Commotion.

Astonishing things are sometimes accomplished in the hunting field by horses from which the least would be expected, taking, into account their size and general appearance; but, as in racing, they go in all shapes. A couple of ponies were conspicuous at Saturday's meet. Peter Chaafe's grey, who did not carry his rider over a single fence, negotiated every one nevertheless. He was led. Young Abbott, who was riding about Bst, did not miss a fence with his clever little mare, who does not stand more than 12 hands 2 inches in height, and some of the stone walls phe got over were as high -as herself. After the run, when returning home, 1 called the attention of some Southern visitors to this clever pony, saying that it was a treat, to see her jump. Abbott immediately turned her round in the road, and she negotiated a couple of stone, walls near the Harp of Erin Hotel, leaving on the minds of the visitors the impression that all tho jumpers in the country don't come from the Wanganui and West Coast districts. The pony referred to is a racy-shaped one, a dun in colour, and was bred in Australia, and was at one time in Fitzgerald's circus. She is a little marvel.