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They were hunting a big gorse which Andy said, 'always produced a fox, and he usually headed in this direction.'
    He was correct on both counts. A sudden crash of music from the hounds signalled that 'Reynard' had popped up and sprinted towards Elverstown. The chase was on. Left-handed, they raced along the edge of the
    ravine, then right-handed up the hill. It was steep and tough going, but the riders and their horses relished the challenge and excitement. Across the top of the hill and down the other side, the chase was relentless, but the fox still managed to stay just in front.
    He crossed the road below Barrettstown Castle, and that's where the chase moved up a notch to a new level of excitement and exhilaration. Along the valley, across lovely jumping country, the colourful and noisy band were
    in full flight. Hound's shrill voices yelled out their loud exciting music, 'Reynard' darted in and out of coverts, just staying ahead of his potential executioners.
    Adrenaline was pumping and the excitement was reaching fever pitch. Down the valley, directly below Andy and Garry's viewing point, the
    chase was electric: 'as good as Andy had ever seen'. This was real hunting country, terrain that took no prisoners. Huge banks, massive wide ditches, high stone walls. The thrill of the frantic chase made these fierce obstacle look
    small and insignificant to the fired-up horses and their brave riders.
    Jenny and Joe were galloping upsides, with little Poker matching stride for stride with the big bay mare. She was now getting extra
    assistance from Joe, in an effort to impress his potential customer.
    Down the hill they came towards Andy and Garry. Thundering over a big double bank within close pursuit of the fox, the pace and momentum was frenzied. Riders totally committed to the raw heat of battle, unconcerned
    for their own safety, urging their adrenaline-charged horses to stretch and strain every muscle and tendon, reaching heights of endeavour never previously achieved.
    A big 'tricky' bank, flanked by large dikes, loomed up
    ahead. It was lined with tall ash trees, and as the hounds streamed over it, the riders discovered that there was only one narrow gap between two large trees, where there was room to jump through - and only in single file.
    The bog at the far side was at a lower level, and after the horses jumped on to the bank between the big trees, they then had to leap across a wide dike and down into the bog. For the riders up front this presented no problem. They took it in their stride, and landed running at the
    far side.
    Andy was very concerned though. It was right in front of him and he could see the danger - he relayed his fears to Garry.
    'All that 'traffic' over that one spot will strip the roots
    of the trees of earth-covering. A horse's leg could slide underneath a big horizontal root and cause trouble.'
    Garry agreed. Both were now concerned. Most of the horses had galloped through, and it was Joe's turn, followed by Jenny. The big mare
    over-jumped, clearing the bank and landing in the dike at the other side. With a mighty plunge she hauled herself out, and was about to gallop on when the shrieks and commotion behind signalled to Joe that Jenny was in serious
    trouble. He pulled up and wheeled around to witness a devastating scene that caused his blood to freeze, rendering him speechless.
    Andy and Garry had rushed over and were on top of the bank,
    breathless in shock and horror. Poker was hanging by his hind leg which had slipped underneath a thick root, anchoring him there. His head, shoulders and front legs were almost submerged in the water. Jenny was out cold, spread-eagled against the hard stony wall of the dike, having been hurtled from
    the saddle, losing her helmet, and her consciousness in the violent impact.
    Poker began to struggle frantically, but there was no way he could pull free. Each surging heave shattering his fetlock, adding to the
    perilous task of rescuing Jenny from the