Nice day for a spot of hunting, Mr President

A rap artist from Washington DC joined a hunt from North Lincolnshire in a spirit of supposed shared oppression yesterday, as the Countryside Alliance unveiled the latest weapon in its propaganda war against the Government. It was just a pity that Samuel Payne – stage name, the President – could barely ride a horse.

In what was less a meeting of true minds than a marriage of convenience, the President swapped his cargo pants for jodhpurs, and took his place alongside members of the South Wold Hunt, most of whom chose to carry on as if he wasn't there.

It was hard to escape the incongruity of the President's presence in this whitest and most rural of environments. One huntsman said that he has only ever been to London in order to take part in countryside protests.

A black face at an English hunt is virtually unheard of, but after seizing upon Vinnie Jones, a villain of football and Hollywood, as one public face of the Countryside Alliance, the movement clearly feels there is mileage in further subverting accepted not- ions of who huntspeople are and what they stand for. "How else are we supposed to convince people that we are not how we are so often portrayed," said Tim Bonner, an alliance spokesman who accompanied the President on his journey into the unknown.

the President's support for hunting was the result of a chance encounter that took place in the summer when he happened upon a hunting vigil in Whitehall. In the eyes of the pro-hunting lobby, the President was helping to get their message across to an urban constituency who might be assumed to be hostile to the idea of killing foxes for the thrill of it, and regard it as a pastime purely for the upper classes. For the President, the stunt was all good publicity ahead of the release of his latest, pro-hunting, single, even if there was something uncomfortable about the way in which he was being unwittingly cast in the role of Ali G.

Dawn had only just broken over the village of Legbourne, a few miles south of Louth when the President and an entourage of two arrived at the start in an ageing Jaguar, from which the obligatory rap music pumped from the sound system. They were then greeted by the man who had taken him under his wing and invited him along, the Master of the South Wold Hunt, a local farmer called James Barclay.

"I hope this will bridge the gap between town and country, which is so wide," Mr Barclay said.

"And I hope it will smash all the preconceptions people have about hunting being the preserve of rich, arrogant toffs. Hunting is a great leveller. If any urban youths wanted to come out and see what it's all about, I'd have no problem with that. I just hope this chap can help spread the word."

The President, fast emerging as something of a softie among rappers, said he was happy to oblige. "This is all about fairness and the freedom of the individual. My message is clear: it's environmental, social, political."

By keeping his bomber jacket on over his hacking jacket, the President presented two powerful images for the price of one until the time came to get down to the serious business, and a horse was found for him which he climbed on to from the elevated position of the back of the trailer.

In spite of his apparent unfamiliarity with procedure, the President claimed to be far from a hunting novice. Born in Chicago and brought up in one of the toughest districts of the US capital, he nonetheless had grandfathers who ran farms in Illinois, where as a boy he would go on holiday and hunt with guns. For that, he said he had had to learn to ride, but having posed for pictures atop a handsome bay gelding yesterday, it wasn't long before he had dismounted and been given use of a quad bike. "The horse was bit stubborn," he explained. This coincided with the first attempt to "draw" foxes out of a wood and for a long time there was a lot of standing about in the cold.

The President insisted, however, that he was enjoying himself. Was he feeling at home among these people? "Sure, they're normal people, down to earth." Mr Barclay, the President said, was a "brilliant man". One hunt follower, a hearty middle-aged woman called Rachel, came up to the President and congratulated him on what he was doing.

Some four hours' worth of hunting produced not a single kill, and only one brief sighting of a fox. "It wasn't a very good hunt to bring the President along to," one huntsman said. "The dogs were in the wood far too long. There was a lot of hanging about." Another follower admitted that she thought the whole thing was a stunt. Mr Barclay, however, insisted that the exercise went much deeper than that. And the President's verdict? "It was exciting. At least I saw a fox. I shouted 'tally ho'!"