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“It’s odd if a foxhunter gets into a crowd of sportsmen, within half a hundred miles of home, without being recognised…” and on this premise Tom Scott tours through pack after pack in the North of England.
Hopeless with women, exasperated by the packs with whom he hunts, obsessed with hunting and little use in the conversational line Tom Scott should be a crashing bore. But he’s not. In fact he’s welcome wherever he shows his face on this rollocking tour – because he’s the happiest combination Surtees knows: a gentleman and a sportsman. This book contains as fine a hare-hunt as you will read in all literature, some shrewd and telling observations on the after dinner foxhunter, and an almost irresistible invitation to make like a dogfox and ‘travel’..
“The hounds were well called the Stout-as-Steel, for they ran as hard now after traversing so many miles of rough moorland country as they did at first. Let staghunters say what they will, five miles hard running is no joke.”