248 THE SPORT OF KINGS 



those bold foxes which the agricultural labourer 

 talks over lovingly in the ale-house o' nights " as 

 t' owd fox 'at they nivver hev cotched, and nivver 

 will " ? That is a question which, I think, most 

 hunting men of wide experience will have asked 

 themselves more than once during their career, and 

 it is a question which takes some answering. 

 Looking back over a pretty long hunting career, I 

 can remember many foxes which were never 

 accounted for. There was that " bob-tailed " fox ; 

 and here let me ask what hunt is there that has 

 not some tale to tell of a brushless fox ? For five 

 seasons we ran him, once we actually had hold of 

 him, but even then he beat us. And it was in 

 this wise that we got hold of him. It was the last 

 day of the season ; we had hunted into May, and 

 we had run a fox to ground in a drain early in the 

 morning. As there was little doubt about its 

 being a dog fox, and as foxes were plentiful, a 

 terrier was introduced into the drain, and soon a 

 battle royal took place. But the fox would not 

 bolt, so a spade was requisitioned, the drain 

 opened, and the fox pulled out by the whipper-in ; 

 and then we saw that it was our " bob-tailed " 

 friend. " Give him a chance," was on the tongue 

 of every one, but I verily believe that every man 

 in his heart of hearts said that at last hounds 

 would kill the gallant fox that had beaten them so 

 often. There was a grim look on the whipper- 

 in's face as he proceeded to turn him down, and he 

 did not give him so very much " law." There 

 was a scent, and away we went again, and a rare 

 run he gave us. At last, after running for some 

 half-hour, fox and hounds were all in the same 

 field, and they were viewing him. But he got 



