THE FOX. 85 



the kennels, seeming to dread nothing so much as the 

 having to move. The stolen hunt was their " spree," 

 their " bender," and of course they must take time to 

 get over it. 



Some old hunters think the fox enjoys the chase as 

 much as the hound, especially when the latter runs 

 slow, as the best hounds do. The fox will wait for 

 the hound, will sit down and listen, or play about, 

 crossing and recrossing and doubling upon his track, 

 as if enjoying a mischievous consciousness of the per- 

 plexity he would presently cause his pursuer. It is 

 evident, however, that the fox does not always have 

 his share of the fun : before a swift dog, or in a deep 

 snow, or on a wet day when his tail gets heavy, he 

 must put his best foot forward. As a last resort he 

 " holes up." Sometimes he resorts to numerous de- 

 vices to mislead and escape the dog altogether. He 

 will walk in the bed of a small creek, or on a rail- 

 fence. I heard of an instance of a fox, hard and long 

 pressed, that took to a rail-fence, and after walking 

 some distance, made a leap to one side to a hollow 

 stump, in the cavity of which he snugly stowed him- 

 self. The ruse succeeded, and the dogs lost the trail ; 

 but the hunter coming up, passed by chance near the 

 stump, when out bounded the fox, his cunning avail- 

 ing him less than he deserved. On another occasion 

 the fox took to the public road, and stepped with 

 great care and precision into a sleigh-track. The 

 hard, polished snow took no imprint of the light foot, 

 and the scent was no doubt less than it would have 



