44 THE LIFE OF A FOX 



not killed me. The pace they obliged me to go, 

 when hunting me over the hills, was terribly fast, 

 and very probably the cause of their not making so 

 much cry when in pursuit. Indeed they ran almost 

 mute, and at times got very near to me before I 

 was aware of their approach. 



This I found was too dangerous a country for 

 me to remain in ; and so, when on another occasion 

 they found me, I ran into the Hambledon country, 

 not far from Stanstead Forest, where I fortunately 

 escaped, and finding myself in a wild part near 

 Highdown Wood, did not venture to return, feel- 

 ing sure that with the Colonel's quick pack and 

 blood-like horses, if they found me on a good scent- 

 ing day I must be beaten by them. However, 

 here was in store for me as great a trial of my 

 powers ; for it seemed that Mr. Osbaldiston's 

 hounds were just come for this part of the season 

 to hunt the country. One morning 1 heard Seb- 

 right's voice cheering on his pack, which, with a 

 burning scent, were running a fox like hghtning. 

 Suddenly there was an awful silence ; then Dick 

 Buxton's screech, and the " Whoop ! " soon followed. 

 For a minute or two only I heard a noise, as if 

 hounds were quarrelling, and that no sooner ended 

 than Sebright saying, "Now, Mr. Smith, this is 



