i 9 6 THE FOX 



out, and, luckily for the huntsman, the hounds, urged 

 on lest they should change, come away on his line. 



Then he rather helps his pursuers, for he runs in 

 the little raised pathways above the fields. They are 

 fairly firm ; the ground, lately irrigated, is sticky and 

 clogging, but the ' bunds ' carry a scent and we drive 

 our jack hard. He is hustled more and more, and 

 the easy canter becomes a stretching gallop. The 

 jack realises that the hounds mean business. When, 

 however, he finds matters are serious he turns back, 

 and now — sure sign that he is growing tired — he begins 

 to dodge and twice nearly gets away. Once the 

 hounds strike the fresh line of a wild cat in a patch 

 of sugarcane. Puss, however, solves the difficulty 

 by going into a tree and the pack once more come 

 back to the line. Once a little scentless graceful 

 Indian fox springs up in view, but the amateur 

 whipper-in gets to their heads smartly. Again a fresh 

 jack comes out of a sugarcane crop and the field 

 begin to holloa. Luckily the Master views the 

 hunted one, and a touch on the horn brings out 

 Gambler, Senator, Victory, and one or two more, 

 while the others fly to the deep notes of the two 

 dog hounds (Victory, though useful, is almost mute). 

 Now the jack is hard pressed, and hounds, who 

 have driven him right through an old walled garden, 



