HUNTING 155 



his hounds out of the house. When this was 

 done a sack was produced, into which poor 

 Maztre Renard was entrapped somehow, and 

 once more taken off to the forest, and let 

 loose after a ten minutes' interval. But the 

 poor beast was so stiff after all his adventures 

 he was soon caught by the hounds, who, after 

 being baulked of their quarry by the barber, 

 were mad for blood. We couldn't help think- 

 ing that after all the sport and amusement he 

 had given us, that fox deserved a present of 

 his life, anyway for that day. 



The best run I saw was one wet day when 

 the field numbered five. Neither my host 

 nor hostess were out, and I had a mount 

 on the latter's horse, Sultan, a very nice 

 hunter. 



There was a good scent, and we ran right 

 away, leaving poor Jean and the horn far 

 behind. It was all through forest, till we 

 reached the railway line, which we crossed 

 somehow, and we killed our fox after a really 

 fast forty minutes. 



I was in at the death, that time honestly, 



