FOX-HUNTING IN NEW ENGLAND 29 



of the hill, never increasing his speed nor abating 

 the carefulness of his scenting. Now his tuneful 

 notes become more frequent. If you have the 

 heart of a fox-hunter, they are the sweetest mu- 

 sic to your ears in all the world. Up the steep 

 side of the hill he takes his way, the young dog 

 following, and both giving tongue from time to 

 time. They slowly work the trail to the top of an 

 overhanging ledge and, now, there is a hush, but, 

 almost before the echo of their last notes has died, 

 forth bursts a wild storm of canine music. Rey- 

 nard is afoot; or, as we Yankees say, "The fox 

 is started," and the reeking scent of his recent 

 footsteps steams hot in the nostrils of his pur- 

 suers. The hounds are now out of sight, but you 

 hear every note of their jubilant song as they 

 describe a small circle beyond the ledge, and then 

 go northward along the crest of the hill. Their 

 baying grows fainter and fainter as they bear 

 away to the farther side, till at last it is almost 

 drowned by the gurgle of the brook. 



Now, get with all speed to "the Notch," which 

 divides the north from the south hill, for this the 

 fox will pretty surely cross when he comes back, 

 if back he comes, after making a turn or two or 

 three at the north end. On this habit of his, of 

 running in circles, and in certain runways as he 

 goes from hill to hill, or from wood to wood, is 

 founded our method of hunting him. If he "plays " 



