90 NOTES BY THE WAY. 
as unerringly as fate. It seemed as if the fox must 
have sowed himself broadcast as he went along, and 
that his scent was so rank and heavy that it settled 
in the hollows and clung tenaciously to the bushes 
and crevices in the fence. I thought I ought to have 
caught a remnant of it as I passed that way some 
minutes later, but I did not. But I suppose it was 
not that the light-footed fox so impressed himself 
upon the ground he ran over, but that the sense of 
the hound was so keen. To her sensitive nose these 
tracks steamed like hot cakes, and they would not 
have cooled off so as to be undistinguishable for sevy- 
eral hours. For the time being she had but one 
sense: her whole soul was concentrated in her nose. 
It is amusing when the hunter starts out of a win- 
ter morning to see his hound probe the old tracks to 
determine how recent they are. He sinks his nose 
down deep in the snow so as to exclude the air from 
above, then draws a long full breath, giving some- 
times an audible snort. If there remains the least 
effluvium of the fox the hound will detect it. If it be: 
very slight it only sets his tail wagging; if it be 
strong it unloosens his tongue. 
Such things remind one of the waste, the friction 
that is going on all about us, even when the wheels of 
life run the most smoothly. A fox cannot trip along 
the top of a stone wall so lightly but that he will leave 
enough of himself to betray his course to the hound 
for hours afterward. When the boys play “ hare and 
hounds ” the hare scatters bits of paper to give a clew 
to the pursuers, but he scatters himself much more 
freely if only our sight and scent were sharp enough 
to detect the fragments. Even the fish leave a trail 
in the water, and it is said the otter will pursue them 
