FOX-HUNTING 



still makes that little less. How they enjoy the scent ! — See 

 how busy they all are, and how each in his turn prevails. 

 Huntsman ! Huntsman ! be quiet ! Whilst the scent was 

 good, you pressed on your hounds ; it was well done : when 

 they came to a check you stood still, and interrupted them not ; 

 they were afterwards at fault : you made your cast with judg- 

 ment and lost no time. You now must let them hunt ; — with 

 such a cold scent as this you can do no good ; they must do it 

 all themselves ; lift them now, and not a hound will stoop 

 again. — Ha ! a high road, at such a time as this, when the 

 tenderest-nosed hound can hardly own the scent ! — Another 

 fault! That man at work there, has headed back the fox. 

 Huntsman ! cast not your hounds now, you see they have over- 

 run the scent ; have a little patience, and let them, for once, 

 try back. We must now give them time ; — see where they 

 bend towards yonder furze brake — I wish he may have stopped 

 there ! — Mind that old hound, how he dashes o'er the furze ; 

 I think he winds him. — ^Now for a fresh entapis ! Hark ! they 

 halloo ! Aye, there he goes. It is nearly over with him ; had 

 the hounds caught view he must have died. — He will hardly 

 reach the cover ; see how they gain upon him at every stroke ! 

 It is an admirable race ! yet the cover saves him. Now be 

 quiet, and he cannot escape us ; we have the wind of the 

 hounds, and cannot be better placed : — how short he runs ! — 

 he is now in the very strongest part of the cover. — What a 

 crash ! every hound is in, and every hound is running for him. 

 That was a quick turn ! Again another ! — he 's put to his last 

 shifts. — Now Mischief is at his heels, and death is not far off. — 

 Ha ! they all stop at once : all silent, and yet no earth is open. 

 Listen ! now they are at him again ! Did you hear that hound 

 catch him ? They over-ran the scent, and the fox had laid 

 down behind them. Now, Reynard, look to yourself ! How 

 quick they all give their tongues ! — little Dreadnought, how he 

 works him ! the terriers too, they are now squeaking at him. 

 — How close Vengeance pursues ! how terribly she presses ! — 

 it is just up with him ! Gods ! what a crash they make ; the 



5 



