hounds will start for some locality where the red fox is 

 supposed to have his domicile, and when that territory 

 is reached the fun commences. When the dogs strike 

 the trail there is no mistaking the fact, as their deep, 

 rich voices can be heard for miles, and, as soon as 

 they indicate the direction in which the fox is heading, 

 the hunters start at breakneck speed and endeavor to 

 keep within hailing distance of the hounds. These hunts 

 are often had at night when it is so dark that the 

 hunters can scarcely see ten feet ahead, and the course 

 pursued by the fox frequently requires them to ride 

 through the woods, over fences and ditches, logs and 

 rocks, up and down hills so steep, that serious injury 

 seems to await both horses and riders ; but these hunters 

 are fearless, and experts in the saddle, and the horses 

 are surefooted and courageous, and seem to enter into 

 the spirit of the chase with as much enthusiasm as 

 the riders, and accidents of any consequence rarely 

 happen. When the fox is caught or the chase aban- 

 doned, a blast on the horn will call the hounds to the 

 hunters, and another field will be invaded ; or hunters 

 and hounds will return to their homes, and, whether 

 laden with the trophies of victory or not, they have 

 enjoyed a most delightful outing. I recall one hunt of 

 this character which occurred when I was a boy, that 

 was so fraught with exciting and comical incidents I 

 cannot repress the impulse to relate it. One of our 

 neighbors was Squire Winford, whose son Alfred was 

 about my own age, and we were great chums. Squire 

 Winford had one of the best packs of fox hounds in 

 the State, and in this pack were two of the best 

 hounds I ever saw. Their names were "Troupe " and 

 " Flounce." I then owed five or six pretty good 

 hounds, and Alfred and I often went fox hunting with 



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