174 ROUND THE GREAT WHITE HORSE 



an end with the appearance of what the old huntsman 

 called " them stinking violets," and that the days of 

 peace and plenty are within measurable distance. 

 Licking and cleaning their fur also occupies much of 

 their sunny hours. No one who has watched them so 

 engaged can believe that the fox is naturally an un- 

 cleanly animal, in spite of the disagreeable scent which it 

 bears. But during the hunting season they become so 

 wary and suspicious that every kind of food is dragged 

 into the earths to be devoured. The skins and refuse 

 parts are not eaten, the earths become foul and tainted, 

 and with the approach of spring they are deserted, 

 except as a place of refuge. The vixen digs a hole for 

 her litter in some fresh haunt, or scratches out a 

 deserted rabbit-burrow, and the male fox revels in fresh 

 air, wind, and sunlight. In the long dry grass in the 

 hollows on the downs, where what was once arable land 

 has turned into coarse pasture, their seats may be found 

 in numbers, round neat nests which the fastidious fox 

 changes every day. " Grass burning " is an exciting 

 minor branch of husbandry at this time, harmless to the 

 ground-birds, which have not yet begun to nest, and 

 pretty to watch, as the low flames creep crackling over 

 the dry haulm above, and leave the good green under- 

 growth sprinkled with invigorating ashes. The March 

 hares are wide-awake, and hop away to the adjacent 

 slopes, whence they watch the progress of the flames 

 with ears erect, and a very human look of curiosity. 

 The partridges whirr off in pairs, and no one is the 

 worse, except the singed and smoke-grimed bipeds 



