WHAT BECOMES OF FOXES ? 249 



through the hedge well in front of them, and by 

 slipping along the bottom of a dry ditch caused 

 them to overrun the line. By the time they hit it 

 off again — for I need not say the field was on their 

 backs — the fox had put a field between himself and 

 his pursuers, and he managed to get to ground in a 

 main earth, where, of course, he was left. Many 

 were the lamentations as we rode home, and some 

 opined that we should " never see our gallant 

 friend again," as he was evidently rather severely 

 bitten by the terrier. But when the cub-hunting 

 season came round, and we were again in his 

 country, the first to be seen stealing quietly away 

 was our friend who was minus his brush. We had 

 two good runs with him during the season, and 

 then we saw him no more. What came of him ? 

 I know he met no untimely fate in that country — 

 there was no crime considered so heinous as the 

 killing of a fox in an illegitimate manner — but 

 that after showing us any amount of fun for some 

 four seasons and part of a fifth, he " retired from 

 business " is certain. 



I knew another fox, a big, fine fellow with a 

 handsome head and a brush which every young 

 fellow who followed our hounds looked at with 

 covetous eyes. His home was a little gorse covert 

 of about three acres, and he always took us over 

 one of the stiffest lines it was ever my lot to ride 

 over. Sometimes he would take one turn round 

 the covert, more frequently he went at once, and 

 he generally broke at the same place, and went 

 nearly field for field over the same line, and we 

 were sure of a seven or eight mile point every 

 time we came across him. And he always beat 

 us. More than once it seemed odds on the 



