CUB-HUNTING 63 



But if, as is to be hoped, foxes are plentiful, he 

 will not have long to wait before the fun begins. 

 There, with ears pricked and stealthy stride, comes 

 the cunning old vixen, pausing for a moment ere 

 she crosses the ride into the covert again. She 

 knows well enough that her hereditary foes are 

 astir again, and it does not need the opening note 

 of old Warrener to warn her that it is time for 

 her to make herself scarce. So with a swing of 

 her brush she makes the best of her way into the 

 open, where for the present there is safety. Soon 

 a cub or two cross the ride, and then, driving on 

 in front, come some of your old friends and some 

 of your new ones. Old Melody, you are glad to 

 see, shows no sign of failing powers yet, and the 

 young Solomons, which you have looked upon 

 with such admiration when you attended the 

 huntsman in his long morning exercise, are dashing 

 to the front in a way which recalls the best form 

 shown by their famous sire. So you sit in the 

 ride, moving occasionally to another coign of 

 vantage, but never attempting to ride to hounds, 

 of course. And then they come round to you 

 again, and again you see the young Solomons 

 driving on in front. The cub is running short, 

 and hounds have overshot him, and probably your 

 young friends may make a wildish cast on their 

 own account. But Gleaner knows better, and, 

 hunting with the closeness which experience 

 teaches, he is soon on the line again. Then see 

 how the young ones score to cry again, and what 

 a cry it is, that of forty couples of foxhounds close 

 on their fox. Another sharp turn — -now they are 

 viewing him ; that hasty growl tells that they 

 have him, and in another second you hear the 



