20 THE FALL OF THE YEAR . 



briars behind him. Leaping into the middle of the 

 road, he flew past me straight up the street, over 

 the ridge, and out of sight. 



I turned to see the burst of the pack into the 

 road, when flash ! a yellow streak, a rush of feet, a 

 popping of dew-laid dust in the road, and back was 

 the fox, almost into the jaws of the hounds, as 

 he shot into the tangle of wild grapevines around 

 which the panting pack was even then turning ! 



With a rush that carried them headlong past the 

 grapevines, the dogs struck the warm trail in the 

 road and went up over the hill in a whirlwind of 

 dust and howls. 



They were gone. The hunt was over for that day. 

 Somewhere beyond the end of the doubled trail the 

 pack broke up and scattered through the woods, 

 hitting a stale lead here and there, but not one of 

 them, so long as I waited, coming back upon the 

 right track to the grapevines, through whose thick 

 door the hard-pressed fox had so narrowly won his 

 way. 



