48 AMERICAN CROSS FOX. 



well as by night ; his fresh tracks may be seen in the fields, along the 

 fences, and on the skirts of the farm-yard, as well as in the deep forest. 



Nothing is easier than to track the Fox under those favourable circum- 

 stances, and the trail having been discovered, it is followed up, until Rey- 

 nard is started. Now the chase begins ; the half-hound yells out, in tones 

 far removed from the mellow notes of the thorough-bred dog, but equally 

 inspiriting perhaps, through the clear frosty air, as the solitary hunter 

 eagerly follows, as fast as his limited powers of locomotion will admit. 

 At intervals of three or four minutes, the sharp cry of the dog resounds, 

 the Fox has no time to double and shuffle, the dog is at his heels almost, 

 and speed, speed, is his only hope for life. Now the shrill baying of the 

 hound becomes irregular ; we may fancy he is at the throat of his victim ; 

 the hunter is far in the rear, toiling along the track which marks the 

 course so well contested, but occasionally the voice of his dog softened by 

 the distance, is borne on the wind to his ear. For a mile or two the Fox 

 keeps ahead of his pursuer, but the latter has the longest legs, and the 

 snow impedes him less than it does poor Reynard ; every bound and 

 plunge into the snow, diminishes the distance between the fox and his re- 

 lentless foe. Onward they rush through field, fence, brushwood, and open 

 forest, the snow flying from bush and briar as they dart through the 

 copse, or speed across the newly-cleared field. But this desperate race 

 cannot last longer. The fox must gain his burrow, or some cavernous 

 rock, or he dies. Alas ! he has been lured too far away from his custom- 

 ary haunts and from his secure retreat, in search of prey, he is unable to 

 reach his home ; the dog is even now within a foot of his brush. One more 

 desperate leap, and with a sudden snappish growl he turns upon his pur- 

 suer, and endeavours to defend himself with his sharp teeth. For a mo- 

 ment he resists the dog, but is almost instantly overcome. He is not 

 killed, however, in the first onset ; both dog and fox, are so fatigued that 

 they now sit on their haunches facing each other, resting, panting, their 

 tongues hanging out, and the foam from their lips dropping on the snow. 

 After fiercely eyeing each other for a while, both become impatient — the 

 former to seize his prey, and the latter to escape. At the first leap of the 

 fox, the dog is upon him ; with renewed vigour he seizes him by the 

 throat, and does not loose his hold until the snow is stained with his blood, 

 and he lies rumpled, draggled, with blood-shot eye, and frothy open mouth, 

 a mangled carcass on the ground. 



The hunter soon comes up : he has made several short cuts, guided by 

 the bajdng of his hound ; and striking the deep trail in the snow again, at 

 a point much nearer to the scene of the death-struggle, he hurries toward 

 the place where the last cry was heard, and pushes forward in a half run 



