204 THE DOG TRIBE. 



stoats, with their five half-grown young ones, crossing the road before 

 me, as in quest of something. Another time, some thirty years ago, 

 before the park wall was finished, I bad a brood of foxes in a stony 

 thicket. One evening, towards the middle of autumn, as I was 

 sitting on a bank, with my loaded air-gun waiting for rabbits, the two 

 parent foxes and five young ones, all in a line, passed before me, not 

 more than fifty yards distant. I remained fixed as a statue. They 

 were cantering away, when one of the young foxes espied me. He 

 stopped and gave mouth. This was more than I could bear ; so, as 

 he was sitting on his hind quarters, I took aim at his head, and sent 

 the ball quite through the wind-pipe. Away went the rest, and left 

 him to his fate. Now, had these been wolves instead of foxes, and 

 had some timorous person been in my place, I feel convinced that 

 his fears would have increased the number of wolves, and he would 

 have considered it a most narrow escape from being worried alive by 

 a large pack of these ferocious animals. 



Foxes are invaluable in England, and they are never to be dis- 

 turbed, except by a pack of full-bred hounds. When I reflect on 

 the wanton and wilful murder I then committed upon so cherished 

 a quadruped, my heart misgives me ; and I fancy, somehow or other, 

 that the sin is still upon my conscience. 



Again, a wild dog hunting for his daily food may, perchance, fall 

 in with one or two others on the same errand, as is the case with the 

 aura vulture, whose habits I have described at large, when I was 

 attacked by Audubon and his friends, for daring to assert that this 

 bird had been gifted with a most sensitive nose. 



Although nothing can be said in favour of the dog whilst in a 

 state of nature, still, after he has received an education from man, 

 the whole world will bear testimony to his immense value. Volumes 

 would not suffice to contain instances of his services to the human 

 race. A man and his dog may almost be considered as component 

 parts, each working for the other, whether in heat or in cold, in 

 tempests or in calms. The blind confide in him the lame have 

 his support the rich are proud of him ; and, too often, the poor 

 man has nothing but his dog to give him consolation. From the 

 stately hound of Cuba (by the way, Cuba is not its original country), 

 down to the little insignificant lap-dog snoring on a lady's knee, the 



