XVII 

 THE FOX 



THE FOX COMPARED WITH OTHER GAME HUNTING THE WILD 



RED DEER A PATHETIC END RENARD's CRAFTY NATURE 



HE drag is but a mimicry of hunting, the crated 

 stag is but little better, the bag-fox an abomi- 

 nation savouring too much of the butcher. 

 Hare and otter-hunting are good, clean 

 sport. The hunting of the wild red deer in Devon and 

 of the wild stag and the wild boar in France are thoroughly 

 honourable and sportsmanlike. The woodcraft of the har- 

 bourer, the rare skill of the huntsman in singling out a 

 warrantable stag or hind, are a display of natural wit and 

 cunning beautiful to see. It is a glorious thing, riding to 

 staghounds, to note the wonderful instinct of the huntsman 

 in lifting them smartly on to the line when they are at 

 fault. But for every-day hunting there is nothing that 

 quite comes up to the chase of the wild fox. 



There is never, in the chase after Renard, the feeling 

 that you are pursuing to its death a harmless and innocent 

 creature. The fox is a vagabond. If he was not at work 

 stealing your chickens last night, it was because he was steal- 

 ing your neighbour's, or came across a rabbit that diverted 



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