Tales From THE HUNT FIELD: Cutting Back on the Yakkety Yak

Tales From THE HUNT FIELD: Cutting Back on the Yakkety Yak

By Mike du Pont

My early days of hunting were with the Orange County Hunt. Cappy Smith was Master and Melvin Poe the Huntsman and our country was wide open and well paneled.

Saturdays were our best days because all the swells were out and the Hunt wanted to make sure it was a good day. (Back then, I was about half-a-swell.) It was a lovely late November or early December morning, but for some reason, scenting was difficult and the hounds were having a hard time getting a line straightened out.

Still, the weather was just right, our horses were going nicely and all was well with the world. The previous night’s cocktail party also had been lots of fun, resulting in plenty to talk about the next morning from us neophytes in the field.

I was riding next to Lucy Moorhead, an attractive woman married to a Pittsburgh Congressman. We were riding just behind the Master, chatting as we rode and having a grand old time. So much so that our yakking may have proved a distraction to the hounds trying to solve the difficulties of Mr. Charlie’s (as in, The Fox) line.

Cappy Smith on Flamingo at Madison Square Garden.

In an open jumper class, Cappy Smith on Margo.

It was possible he had pulled one of those typically elusive sly foxy tricks—running down a flowing stream or dashing along the top of a stone wall where scent lays very poorly.

I’ve personally witnessed a fox swerve off his course toward a herd of cattle. As he approaches, in order not to spook them, the fox will slow to a trot and move quietly through the middle of the cattle. The cows somehow manage to stay calm, and of course, his fox scent is lost because it’s mingling with the aroma of all the cattle droppings. On this glorious day, Mr. Charlie did not employ that tactic and as we rode, we just kept chatting along. At one point, our conversation grew so enthusiastic our Master could stand it no longer. Finally, Cappy Smith whirled about in his saddle and barked, “Mike, be quiet and watch the hounds!”

Of course, I did exactly as I was told. And, I must say, my knowledge and enjoyment of hunting improved immediately and forever after.