338 MwQS of tbe 1T5unttnG*3fielb 



I looked round, saw she was in pain, and asked, in a 

 threatening manner, " Who kicked that hound ? " 



' No one spoke for half a minute, when a little boy 

 said, pointing to another, " That boy kicked her." 



' " Did he ? " I exclaimed ; " then 'tis lucky for him 

 that he is a little boy ; because if a man had kicked 

 her, I would have horsewhipped him on the spot." 



' " You would find that a difficult job if you tried it," 

 said the young farmer. 



' I jumped off my horse, threw down my whip, and 

 said, " Who's the man to prevent me ? " 



' Not a word was spoken. I stood my ground, and, 

 one by one, the crowd retired, the young farmer amongst 

 the number ; and from that day I secured, not only for 

 myself but for my successors, the goodwill and co-opera- 

 tion of some of the best fox preservers that the county 

 of Devon, or any other county has ever seen.' 



Some few years after his adventure with the fox 

 killers, foxes were so numerous that Russell received 

 the following letter from a farmer on the North Molton 

 side of his country ; it ran thus : — 



* Sir John Rissell, 



' Yeur honour will plaize to cum up to Ben 

 Twitching wi' the dogs : us be ate out o' they voxes. 

 Missis kipth on a-telling up and zeth, us shan't ha a 

 Geuse to kill cum Chrismus. But I've a zaid I'd gi 

 her a new gown to mak' up for't ; zo her han't a vexed 

 zo mich zince. But do ee cum and gi us a bit o' 

 sport, sir. — Yeur honour's humbl Sarvent, ' T. T.' 



From 1828 to 1832 Russell showed glorious sport with 

 his little pack over a country which stretched from 

 Torrington in Devon to Bodmin in Cornwall, seventy 



