94 



Fox- Hunting in New England. 



among the fresh-turned furrows, but with rapid lopes skirts their 

 swarded border, till, at a far corner, his speed slackens as his keen 

 nose catches the scent again in the damp grass ; he snuffs at it an 

 instant to assure himself, then sounds a loud, melodious note, and 

 goes on baying at every lope till the road is reached. Along this he 

 zigzags till he finds where the fox has left it. And now comes the 

 puzzling bit of fence. The old dog thinks the fox has gone through 

 it ; he goes through it himself, but finds no scent there ; puzzles 



IB about rapidly, now trying this 

 side, now that ; at last, he be- 

 thinks himself of the top, to 

 which he clambers and there 

 finds the missing trail. But his 

 big feet cannot tread the " giddy 

 footing" of the rail as could Rey- 

 nard's dainty pads, so down he 

 goes and tries on either side for 

 the point where the fox left the 

 fence. Ranging up and down, 

 too near it to hit the spot where 

 Reynard struck the ground, he 

 fails to recover the scent, stops, 

 raises his nose, and utters a long, 

 mournful howl, half vexation, 

 half despair. Now he climbs to 

 the top rail further on and snuffs 

 it there. " No taint of a fox's 



