THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 89 



the right line, and may slip away with it 

 unseen down wind. There is nothing more 

 tiresome than a gale of wind in hunting, both 

 to us and men. We can't hear each other, and 

 they can't hear us; and it is matter of doubt 

 to me which is the worst of the two — a thick 

 fog, or a blowing gusty wind. I may here 

 remark," continued Trimbush, " that there 

 is a strange fact connected with scent, which 

 I have not heard attempted to be accounted 

 for. On the going off of a frost, we can run 

 the drag hard, right up to the kennel, and yet 

 be unable to run an inch afterwards." 



** That seems very singular," said I. 



** I suppose it to be," resumed my com- 

 panion, " that the scent clings to whatever 

 the animal rubs against or passes over during 

 the night ; and having gone slowly, a greater 

 portion is emitted, which is preserved by the 

 frost, and the thaw having loosened the 

 particles, enables us to take them up." 



** But how do you account for not being 

 able to run after he is unkennelled ? " asked I. 



* * Because his skin is cold ; and going at a 

 greater pace, there is not sufficient time for 

 the small quantity of scent escaping to lie 

 strong enough to overcome the exhalations 



