THE FOX. 



91 



ing on a pumpkin which a patient youth had rolled 

 down a hill for me and had improved my shot consid- 

 erably. Now a yellow pumpkin was coming which was 

 not a pumpkin, and for the first time during the day 

 opportunity favored me. I expected the fox to cross 

 the road a few yards below me, but just then I heard 

 him whisk through the grass, and he bounded upon the 

 fence a few yards above. He seemed to cringe as he 

 saw his old enemy, and to depress his fur to half his 

 former dimensions. Three bounds and he had cleared 

 the road, when my bullet tore up the sod beside him, 

 but to this hour I do not know whether I looked at the 

 fox without seeing my gun, or whether I did sight him 

 across its barrel. I only know that I did not distin- 

 guish myself in the use of the rifle on that occasion, 

 and went home to wreak my revenge upon another 

 pumpkin. But without much improvement of my skill, 

 for, a few days after, another fox ran under my very 

 nose with perfect impunity. There is something so 

 fascinating in the sudden appearance of the fox, that 

 the eye is quite mastered, and unless the instinct of the 

 sportsman is very strong and quick, the prey will slip 

 through his grasp. 



A still-hunt rarely brings you in sight of a fox, as his 

 ears are much sharper than yours, and his tread much 

 lighter. But if the fox is mousing in the fields, and you 

 discover him before he does you, you may, the wind 

 favoring, call him within a few paces of you. Secrete 

 yourself behind the fence, or some other object, and 



