A MONMOUTHSHIRE FOX. 349 



of a stout rail and a blown horse put me out of court 

 for the time, and broke my wrist-watch. So I can 

 only say that when I reached the wood I found they 

 had marked him to ground, and were proceeding to 

 dig much to my regret. 



I did not wait to watch this uninteresting, though 

 sometimes necessary operation, but I heard afterwards 

 that it resulted in the death of the most gallant fox I 

 have ever seen. 



Taking the distances from one short point to 

 another I make it twenty-nine miles, and the time, 

 counting checks, was about four hours. There was 

 no reason to imagine that we had ever changed 

 foxes, in fact, the whip told me that he had every 

 reason to think that the fox he had originally viewed 

 away from Cross Robert, the one fresh- found at 

 Fedwvawr, and the one dug out and killed, were one 

 and the same. It was a very large old dog. 



Such powers of endurance in a fox, I think, I have 

 never seen equalled before or since, for if we rode 

 over thirty miles, what must the fox have covered ? 

 The nearest approach I can recall to this was a fox 

 in Pembrokeshire not ten years ago, who ran about 

 twenty-four miles in three hours and thirty-five 

 minutes, going to ground once during the journey, 

 and being promptly ejected by a terrier. 



