Wild Hunt

Tying in nicely with the poem below is this snippet about the Wild Hunt - this is a legend from Devon though taking place on the windswept moors of Dartmoor, far removed from Windsor which is supposedly where Herne met his end at the hand of King Richard.
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One wild stormy night a farmer was returning home from Widecombe, somewhat worse the wear from the strong local beverages brewed on-site. The wind raged, and the rain beat down on him, forcing him to pull his hood over his face, and to wrap his jacket tight around him. As he pressed on his journey, he heard the soft thudding of hoofs, and the baying of a huntsman's pack, and found himself surrounded by many large black hounds.

A black clad huntsman came up from the rear, a broad rimmed hat casting dark shadows over his face, hiding his features. A bundle of bulging sacks were tied to his saddle, no doubt carrying the fruits of his hunt.

The farmer, filled with drunken bravado shouted over the storm: "Share with me some of your game". The huntsman let out a laugh, and threw a heavy sack at the farmer's feet. In a moment he and his hounds were gone, riding as wild as the storm over the moors and into the darkness. The farmer bent down and fumbled with the sinews that tied the sacking, at last his drunken fingers released the contents of the sack onto the water soaked pathway.

The farmer choked back his breath, for before him was the crumpled and bruised body of his own infant son. He turned away for a moment, and when he had the courage to return his gaze, the terrible vision had gone, leaving only the empty pathway before him. Sober now he hurried the last part of his journey, to be met at his cottage by his wife who was creening in grief, for their son had died during the storm.
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I was interested to learn, as I did my research, that the Wild Hunt legends aren't specific to the British Isles. I have found legends of the Hunt ranging from Germany, Norway, Iceland and the Steppes. How shock was I at my own ignorance?

In Norse myth, Odin in his guise of the wind god was pictured as rushing through mid-air on his eight legged steed, Sleipnir. It was thought that the souls of the dead were wafted away on the winds of a storm.

Google Wild Hunt and see what comes up - if this subject is of interest. I think I could make a study of it and never get to the end of information.