Second day in France this year, in the forest of Cheverny with the eponymous pack.
Rainy and cold. Clearly affected the Secretaire's judgement-
Hounds were cold but ready.
Rapport was bleak...
A cheval, and off.
They found right away,
And then round and round as usual.
And then lost.
And then lost.
This is a small forest, only about French mile by two. And it's fenced fairly strongly.
Even so, searching proved fruitless.
Change cheveaux...
Still nothing...
Until they found. Not a big stag, but still a 3 atop.
He was just here.
And here.
He ran back and forth between the edge of the forest and the road we were on.
Crossing the alleles quickly.
People stayed out,
and hounds got close.
"Am I not a handsome horse?"
Hard working Huntsman kept his hounds on...
And put them right when they overran.
Finally they squeezed him into a tight corner...
And *poof*, he vanished. An hour of draw and redraw was barren, and they gave him best. Clever or lucky, one or the other saved him this time.
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