I could hear them coming before I could see them. A group of about 20 hounds yelped wildly as they raced through the tree line. Only after the sound of a horn did they recompose themselves and get back into a group as they ran beside huntsman Jamie Green across the Middleton Place plantation lawn.
Green, followed by an entourage of riders, sat stoicly as visitors snapped pictures of him surrounded by the hounds. The stage had been set, the riders were present and a fox hunt would follow shortly.
But wait, unlike other hunts I have followed, there would be no kill. Actually there would be no fox.