CHAPTER XVII 



THE PRESERVATION OF FOXES 



The man we'll all honour, whate'er be his rank, 



Whose heart heaves a sigh when his gorse is drawn blank. 



So sang that excellent sportsman and elegant poet 

 Egerton Warburton many years ago, and " so say 

 all of us." But unfortunately in these latter days, 

 and in some countries I wot of, if the owners of 

 certain coverts were to act as the good fellow did 

 to whom Egerton Warburton calls on us to drink 

 a " quassitum," there would be a breeze approach- 

 ing in violence to an equinoctial gale. I very 

 much fear that in many districts the preservation 

 of foxes is not carried on in that whole-hearted 

 manner in which it was a few years ago. Men 

 even who call themselves hunting men, men who 

 appear at the covert side and who look and talk 

 as if they like hunting, have been known to put 

 their shooting in front of it, and sacrifice the more 

 popular sport to the more selfish one by not allow- 

 ing coverts to be drawn until after a certain date, 

 thereby causing great inconvenience to the Master, 

 and doing themselves no good. Especially is a 

 certain class of shooting tenant given to this 

 manner of procedure, and in his case generally 

 there is not the number of foxes which there ought 



