204 Fox- Hunting 



seemed very proud. Time is up, everything is ready. 

 Tommy Stout has patted his pony's neck, seen that 

 the bit lies comfortably on the bars of the animal's mouth 

 and that the saddle is firmly fixed, and is trotting along 

 in the midst of the field. But this is not Johnny's way 

 of doing things. No sooner has a move been made than 

 he sticks the spurs into his willing little beast, and 

 dashes to the head of affairs until he is right in the 

 midst of the hounds — one of which he has certainly 

 ridden over, for it yelps with pain. 



'■ How dare you ride over my hounds, you clumsy little 

 lout ! ' the master cries, as he sees his favourite injured. 

 ' If you cannot behave properly, you shall not be allowed 

 to come out.' Johnny looks sulky, but of course has 

 nothing to say. 



The covert to be drawn is a wood with a good deal of 

 undergrowth — a favourite haunt of foxes, which is rarely 

 or never blank ; and at the side of this the field is now 

 drawn up, while the huntsman waves his hand as a 

 signal to his obedient hounds, and they scramble over 

 the fence and spread themselves about. Hither and 

 thither you will see them range, sniffing with curious 

 noses at the places where instinct tells them a fox is 

 likely to have been. Presently one pauses and * speaks.' 

 He thinks he has found a recent lurking-place of his 

 natural enemy ; but another sniff' leaves him in doubt, 

 and a second experienced old hound, that has come up to 

 see whether there is anything in the discovery, pauses 

 only for a moment at the spot, and is off' again. But 

 fifty yards away to the left something has been found. 

 You may see a hound give first a merely interrogative, 

 then an eager sniff, and, being now sure of his facts, he 

 announces his find with such confidence that his friends 



