BOSTON AND BALDY. 



remain where we were, if we could be 

 accommodated. The owner of the 

 plantation invited us to remain over 

 night. Putting up the dogs and 

 horses, we repaired to the house, 

 where we demolished a substantial 

 supper. As we were about retiring, 

 one of the servants came in and told 

 us there were some dogs going down 

 the river, howling. We took our 

 horns and going out on the lawn, 

 blew the dogs in, putting them with 

 the rest. 



About 6.30 the next morning, as we 

 were finishing breakfast, a servant 

 came running in with the information, 

 that a fox, with one dog close behind 

 him, and 2 others some distance be- 

 hind, had just gone down the river. 



Bidding our host good-by, we sad- 

 dled our horses and went on down to 

 the low grounds. We did not hear or 

 see anything of the chase until we ar- 

 rived at the place where we had left 

 our horses the day before. While 

 waiting the saddling of our then well 

 rested mounts, one of the negroes said 

 he had seen Old Baldy, and 3 dogs, a 

 short time before. The fox was al- 

 most played, for his brush was drag- 

 ging the ground. Our host having 

 joined us, we rode on at a smart pace. 

 A mile or so further on, I saw by their 

 tracks that dogs and fox had again 

 gone to the bluffs. Soon we came up 

 to Colonel, who was staggering along, 

 completely worn out. I took him up 

 on my saddle, and carried him onward. 

 Two miles further we overtook Rat- 

 tler going down the road, howling 

 every few yards. Bob took him up in 

 front of him. Both these hounds were 

 badly broken up, and had worn the 

 pads from off their feet. A little later 

 I heard a hound give tongue away 

 down in a bottom, to our left. I recog- 

 nized it as Boston's cry, but it was a 

 very weak and faltering note. Leav- 

 ing the dogs that were with us in an 



old tobacco barn on the road, with a 

 negro to watch them, we rode down to 

 the bottom. There in a patch of briars 

 in a small clearing we could see, by the 

 shaking of the briar tops, the position 

 of both fox and dog. They were about 

 20 yards apart. The dog had ceased 

 giving tongue except when cheered. 



Leaving our horses, we went down 

 along the edge of the patch, which was 

 about an acre in extent. For an hour 

 we saw neither dog nor fox. They 

 kept doubling near the centre, but at 

 last, Old Baldy stepped from cover a 

 few yards above us. He passed within 

 10 feet of us without even raising his 

 head. His tongue, greatly swollen 

 and almost black, hung from his 

 mouth. His brush was covered with 

 mud, and was tightly tucked. A 

 few yards away a large tree trunk had 

 fallen across a path ; this the tired fox 

 tried in vain to climb over. As he 

 slipped back Boston came out of the 

 bushes and saw him. The dog raised 

 his head and uttered one clear, long 

 drawn note, a cry of triumph, more ex- 

 pressive than words. As Boston stag- 

 gered toward him, Old Baldy sud- 

 denly fell to the ground, where he lay 

 limp and motionless. When within a 

 few feet of his quarry, Boston stum- 

 bled and fell. Then he got up, stag- 

 gered to the fox, throttled him, and 

 gave him a feeble shake. At this junc- 

 ture I ran in and finished Reynard. 



I then gave Boston a little liquor 

 from my flask, and bringing water 

 from the creek, cooled his head and 

 his blood-shot eyes. He gradually 

 recovered, but was never himself 

 again, and died at the age of 3 years. 



So ended one of the longest chases 

 ever run. At one time during: the 

 night the fox was fully 50 miles from 

 the place where he was jumped. We 

 did not care to take Old Baldy's brush, 

 but buried him, with stately honors, 

 where the chase ended. 



