This is the true tale of a meeting , if one could call it that, which happened to me forty five years ago. It has stayed with me throughout the years. I don't think there is a day passes by when I don't think about that day so long ago.
I was living and working in Ireland at the time, about twelve miles from the City of Waterford. As a young girl I had always been crazy about horses. I was now working at a small breeding and racing yard. I was living my dream. Or so it seemed at the time( But that is another story).
This particular day I was riding out alone in the mountains. It was a cold, but sunny and clear day. I had been out about an hour and was riding along a track just about wide enough to take a car. The road underfoot was a rough stone track. To my left was dense mixed woodland. On my right was a dry stone wall about three feet in height. Beyond the wall a beautiful vista as the land unfolded into a sweeping valley as far as the eye could see, until in the distance it blended again to join the foot of another mountain.
Suddenly a large fox appeared about three feet in front of us. It sat in the middle of the road and just looked at me and the horse. We looked back. The horse slightly startled and me totally amazed to see a fox at such close quarters and seemingly not at all bothered by our presence.As quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared into the woodland. I was left wondering if I had imagined the whole episode, yet I felt honoured to have had such a close encounter with one of natures wild creatures.
My horse seemed to be rooted to the spot and I could feel her heart thudding against my legs. She was also beginning to break out in a sweat, white flakes along her neck and onto the reins. I nudged her gently with my heels to walk on, but she didn't want to move in any direction. I glanced to my right, thinking to enjoy the view before trying once again to carry on with the ride. I was startled by what I saw.
Approaching the wall at a fast canter was a huntsman in full uniform, he carried a whip and a horn. He had about half a dozen hounds with him, but no other people following. It crossed my mind that he was simply excercising hounds for the day. He and the hounds cleared the stone wall right in front of us. He can not have been any more than four feet from where I sat mesmerised.
He looked at me as his horse landed. I said " Good morning". He just stared as he passed in front of us, his eyes glassy and his face void of any expression. He seemed to be looking not at me, but through me. Then he and his horse and the hounds disappeared into the woodland on my left.
My first thought was " How rude". It was also a very strange reaction for that part of the country as most of the people there were incredibly friendly. Always ready for a chat, or at least happy to pass the time of day. My next thought, perhaps I should say my realisation, was that they had made no sound at all. No sound of the horseman approaching. No sound of his horses shod hooves landing on the stoney road. The wood was dense...too dense for a man on horseback to ride into at speed. Not a leaf rustled and not a twig cracked. All I could hear was the thudding of my horses heart, and that of my own.
I realised then that what I had witnessed was not of this world, but of some other time and place...perhaps a re enactment, who knows? I only know that my horse was now ready, in fact anxious to move once more. I had no argument with that and I spun her around and we headed for home...quickly.
I never rode that route again.