THE FOX — "stole aayay.'* 263 



from the side of a hill beyond a little brook. I raised 

 myself slowly in the saddle, and fired ; but my hand 

 shook so with the cold that I missed him. After the 

 report, when the smoke cleared away, the fox had dis- 

 appeared ; I jumped off and ran to the place where he 

 had been standing, to see if I could find traces of the 

 ball — finding none I reloaded, and returned to the 

 horse, which was quietly grazing. With my left foot in 

 the stirrup, and in the act of throwing my right leg 

 over the saddle, what was my astonishment to see the 

 fox in the same place as before, looking as unconcerned 

 as if nothing had happened ! I had to turn my horse 

 before I could take aim, and the fox turned at the same 

 time. A loud whistle made him stop for a moment to 

 see what it was ; he w^as off again before I could fire, 

 but not quick enough to escape my ball. The jump 

 he gave showed he was hit ; so, throwing myself off 

 the horse, I hastened after him. When he heard the 

 bushes rustling, he stood still to listen. This allowed 

 me to approach him : the shot had broken his left hind 

 leg ; and, throwing away every thing that hindered me 

 in running, I darted after him. Dragging his wounded 

 Jeg, he limped along the side of the hill ; but, finding 

 that I gained on him, he turned towards the summit. 

 I had run for a good half mile, and too much out of 

 breath to breast the hill, I soon lost sight of him. 

 Heated and tired, I returned to the horse, picking up 

 my rifle, powdjer-horn, pouch, and cap, by the way, 

 enveloped myself in my blanket, and mounted my 

 patient steed. 



I soon crossed the highest summit of the range, and 

 running down by the side of a small stream southwards 



