78 LETTERS TO YOUNG SPORTSMEN. 



kill foxes there is no gainsaying this. They must be blooded 

 as much as the country will stand, especially in the cubbing 

 season ; hounds will not work unless they kill foxes. I must 

 say I cannot resist a feeling of satisfaction when, after a 

 fast dart, the fox gets away. When gone to earth I do not 

 feel the same, because one must realise that foxes do 

 not usually live if they have been hard hunted. But if a fox 

 has gone twenty-five minutes of the best, one likes to think he 

 still lives, because a fox which has beaten hounds once is full of 

 confidence the next time, knows some country and means to 

 use it. Hounds well blooded during cubbing are made for the 

 season I mean young hounds. I do not fancy a hound 

 prefers an evil-smelling, hairy morsel covered with mud, to a 

 good beef bone, but he eats it because it is a trophy of his 

 prowess, and it is in his blood to hunt and kill foxes, and he 

 must have blood to foster this spirit. 



When a pack of hounds are out of luck and do not show 

 much sport, they are, you may be sure, short of blood. These 

 are sanguinary thoughts for otherwise humane and decent 

 persons, but we must remember that though fox-hunting may 

 be cruel in the last few minutes before the death, the fox has 

 many compensations and advantages. Without hunting he 

 would, except in mountain districts, be an extinct animal 

 in a few years ; some are killed that the remainder be allowed 

 to exist ; he is bred and reared in the lap of luxury, watched 

 over with the greatest care, and once or twice in a season 

 has a narrow shave for his life. Sometimes, on bad scenting 

 days, I fancy he enjoys outwitting his pursuers. When death 

 does come it is short and sharp. 



There is much to admire about the fox, he always seems 

 so methodical, cool and collected ; the field may gallop wildly 

 here and there, the huntsman may curse, the whips rate, the 

 foot-people holloa, and the only one of the party to keep 

 perfectly calm is the fox he seems to know exactly what 

 to do. See him steal away from covert, even with hounds 

 close at him : how smooth and even his long, low stride ; 

 no flurry and excitement. All he wants to do is to reach the 

 first fence, which is as good to him as a couple of fields' length. 

 See him when almost caught in covert, hounds everywhere, 

 how, calm still, he seems like an eel, dives under one, jumps 



