THE FOX AND HIS ENEMIES 357 



on to the line of their hunted fox, and in ten minutes' time I had the great satisfaction of 

 seeing them roll him over in the middle of a road." 



My second illustration is of more recent date. The scene, INIrs. 

 M'Intosh's gorse. " I remember the day well. Our hunted fox, pushed 

 out of the gorse, had made his way back to it, putting up several fresh 

 ones, one of which came over the bottom end of the ride, just in front of 

 hounds, the hunted one in the meantime having crossed the ride at the 

 top. Hounds never owned to the line of the fresh one, but racing up the 

 side, went at the hunted fox and very soon killed him." 



So much for horse and hounds, so little, in fact ; what about the fox ? Is 

 he degenerating ? I think not, but he certainly has more numerous 

 enemies, though, I trust, none so bad as in Col. Cook's time. The Colonel 

 was once invited by a person who, he more than suspected, was in the 

 habit of killing all foxes that came anywhere near his coverts, to pay him 

 a visit when the ground was well covered with snow, so that he could 

 observe their tracks into his preserves. 



He thereupon reminded him of the story in .Esop's Fables, of the answer given by the fox 

 to the lion, when he endeavoured to entice him into his den — " Vou will," said the lion, " run 

 no risk ; observe the tracks of many of your species into my den." "Very true," answered 

 Reynard ; " I see the marks of those that entered, but where can you point out to me a 

 single trace of ONE returning?" He was well assured that if a fox once wandered into his 

 pretended friend's preserves, he would never come out again alive. 



But it is not from his natural or his open enemies that a fox has so 

 much to fear as from the numerous poachers who are after other game 

 with their snares. Only recently a beautiful vixen was found dead in a 

 wood near me, caught in a snare set for a rabbit. Twenty other snares 

 were taken up in that wood. What chance had she ? What chance has 

 any fox when he once begins to wander afield, if he enters a v/ood unpre- 

 served ; it is generally full of gins, and so you never find them in such 

 coverts, though many a fox comes to an untimely end, and few there are 

 that come to any age. No wonder, then, that we so seldom see the 

 historic runs which used to delight our forefathers. Look in the mouth of 

 a fox hilled to-day. Where are the ivorn-doivn tushes as black as if they had been 

 chewing tobacco ? You'll not find them ; but those are the sort to show 

 sport. Mr. Bosley has one. May scent be good, hounds fresh, and 

 horses fit when next we find him ; and may we all be there to hear Bailey's 

 triumphant whoop, for it will be a big run, and a grand one, if ever that 

 comes to pass. 



*' And with my skates fast bound. 

 Skimmed the half-frozen sound, 

 That the poor whimpering hound 

 Trembled to walk on." 



—Longfellow. 



Nothing like two strings to your bow, and if one cannot write about 

 hunting one can about skating, but this week Mr. Humphreys, of Brent- 

 wood, kindly furnishes me with a third string, in a letter upon "The 

 future of fox-hunting." Mr Humphreys thinks that it is customary for 

 English country gentlemen of the present day to spend the greater part 

 of their leisure time in hunting during the winter months. Alas ! How 

 many at the present time cannot afford to hunt at all. Those, however, 

 who can still manage to do so rarely if ever hunt more than two days 

 a week. They recognise with the advance of civilisation that they have 

 other and many more important duties to perform. Quarter sessions, 

 county, district and parish councils, together with magisterial duties and 

 the management of their estates, keep them fully occupied, and if they 

 hunt it is from the same motives that actuate most of us, search of 

 health and recreation. 



