That portion of Cumberland and Westmorland, which is popularly known as the Lake District, is the holiday ground of a great number of persons who delight in its splendid scenery of mountain, wood and lake, who enjoy roaming on foot over its uplands, climbing its peaks, driving in motor or charabanc along its sinuous valleys, rowing or sailing on its lakes, and sketching or photographing its picturesque views, which present themselves to even the most inartistic eye. But these folk belong to the family of “Hirundinid?”—swallows—they are summer visitants.

To my mind, the Lake Country, always beautiful, is more beautiful at the other three seasons of the year. In the spring and autumn the grasses and mosses of the upper slopes and of the smooth round shoulders, the bracken of the lower slopes, the larch woods creeping up from the valleys, and the emerald green of the lush meadows present finer contrasts of colour and more variety of shade and tone than the monotonous green of summer; whilst in winter the snow-capped mountains look higher and grander and more inaccessible, the[viii] effects of light and shade are more varied, and even on the lower slopes, by reason of the lower altitude of the sun and the prolongation of shadows, the folds and crinkles of the mountain bases are more distinctly seen. Visitors, however, are comparatively few, for days are short and often wet, the attractions fewer in number, and accommodation in the remoter spots not easily available. But those who come, and are fortunate in their meteorological experiences, are amply rewarded; and, if they are able-bodied and active, can enjoy the hunting which some four or five packs of hounds afford.

To most people “hunting” connotes horses and riders, and red coats, and breeches and boots. The Lakeland hunter, however, sees none of these things. At most he will catch an occasional glimpse of the scarlet coat of huntsman or whip. A horse would be as much out of place at a meet of a fell-side pack as a hippopotamus, and be about as useful. Breeches and boots would be an impossible handicap. The iron horse, the bicycle, takes the place of the covert hack, knickerbockers of leathers, and shooting-boots of tops.

The mountain packs of hounds were instituted or taken over by the farmers of the district for the protection of their flocks from the depredation of the numerous foxes, which frequent the fells, and at times take a heavy toll of the lambs in the[ix] spring. But to business has been added pleasure. Business, however, comes first. A day’............