THE FOX 55 



young Nimrods to bag some notable game. 

 Long I waited, and patiently, till, chilled and 

 benumbed, I was about to turn back, when, hear- 

 ing a slight noise, I looked up and beheld a most 

 superb fox, loping along with inimitable grace 

 and ease, evidently disturbed, but not pursued 

 by the hound, and so absorbed in his private 

 meditations that he failed to see me, though I 

 stood transfixed with amazement and admiration, 

 not ten yards distant. I took his measure at a 

 glance, — a large male, with dark legs, and mas- 

 sive tail tipped with white, — a most magnificent 

 creature ; but so astonished and fascinated was 

 I by this sudden appearance and matchless 

 beauty, that not till I had caught the last 

 glimpse of him, as he disappeared over a knoll, 

 did I awake to my duty as a sportsman, and real- 

 ize what an opportunity to distinguish myself I 

 had unconsciously let slip. I clutched my gun, 

 half angrily, as if it was to blame, and went 

 home out of humor with myself and all fox-kind. 

 But I have since thought better of the experi- 

 ence, and concluded that I bagged the game 

 after all, the best part of it, and fleeced Reynard 

 of something more valuable than his fur, without 

 his knowledge. 



This is thoroughly a winter sound, — this 

 voice of the hound upon the mountain, — and 



