88 CHASING AND RACING 



One day we got among a litter in a large covert, 

 every one of which was a pitiable sight to behold. A 

 brace was quickly " done in," and then I viewed a 

 miserable little wretch as he crawled into a woodstack. 

 I touched my horn, and when Jack Westrup came up 

 with the terriers, I told him to let Damon and Pythias, 

 two of my most punishing " wire hairs, " have a go, 

 knowing that this would settle the poor cub in two 

 shakes of a duck's tail ; but like the assembled hounds 

 they did not seem anxious for the job. One of the 

 field, who always had a fatuous opinion to air, expressed 

 it as his belief that it was a rabbit that had entered the 

 woodstack. 



" Not a bit of it," I said. " I viewed him in 

 myself. It was a cub right enough, and a d d 

 mangy one at that. Why, he had not a hair on his 

 tail ! " 



" Tail ? " Ah, thought my friend the enemy, I 

 have him on the hop. 



" Oh, Master ! " he exclaimed, looking round at 

 the congregation in anticipation of triumph. ' Tail ! 

 fancy you backsliding like that ! I did not know that 

 foxes ever owned tails" 



" Oh, there are exceptions, " I answered uncon- 

 cernedly. " This one is a case in point. As the poor 

 brute has not a hair on his caudal appendage, it could 

 not by any stretch of imagination be termed a brush" 



Great applause from the throng, and the funny one 

 completely disgruntled. 



