400 
FOREST 'AND » STREAM. 
[May 16 1896 
FIXTURES 
BENCH 8HOW8. 
May 80 to 23.— Alameda County Sportsmen's Association's show 
Oakland, Cal. H. W. Newton, Sec'y. 
Sept, 7 to 11.— Toronto Exhibition Association's eighth annual show, 
Toronto, Can. C. A. S'one, Sec'y of bench show. 
Sept. 38 to 84. —Milwaukee Kennel and Pet Stock Association's second 
annual dog show, Milwaukee. W. W. Welch, Seo'y. 
FIELD TRIALS. 
Sept. 3.— Morris, Man.— Manitoba Field Trials Club. John Wootton, 
Sec'y. 
Sept 9.— Kennedy, Minn.— Continental Field Trial Club's chicken 
trials. P. T. Madison, Sec'y. Indianapolis, Ind. 
Oct. 9.— Brunswick Fur Club's annual meet. Bradford S. Turpin, 
Sec'y. 
Oct. 26 — Hempstead, L, I — Natioonal Beagle Club's trials. Geo. 
W. Rogers, Sec'y, 250 W. Twenty-second street, New York. 
Oct. 88.— Greene county, Pa. — The Mononganela Valley Game and 
Fish Protective Association's second annual trials. S. B. CummiHgs 
Sec'y, Pittsburg. 
Nov. 2 — Bicknell, Ind.— Continental Field Trial Club's quail trials. 
P. T. Madison. Sec'y. 
Nov. 8.— Oxford, Mass.— New England Beagle Club's trials. W. 8. 
Clark, Sec'y, Linden, Mass. 
Nov. 16. -Newton, N. C— E. F. T. Club's trials. S. O. Bradley, Sec'y, 
Greenfield Hill, Conn. 
Nov. 17.— Chatham, Ont, —International Field Trial Club's trials. 
W. B Wells, Sec'y, Chatham, Ont. 
Nov. 28 —Newton, N. C .— U. 8. F, T. Club's fall trials. W. B. Staf- 
ford, Sec'y. 
A NEW HAMPSHIRE FOX HUNT. 
Lebanon, N. H. — We have several fox hunters in our 
place, and three or four of us made our plans to go out 
fox hunting. 
We have a young dog named Victor, or Vic, as he is 
generally called, who never bunted foxes until last fall, 
and so of course has not got all the tricks learned yet. 
He is a thin-haired, smooth-coated dog, and very sensitive 
to the cold. He is small in siz«, does not run very fast, 
and foxes do not appear to be very much afraid of him. 
We had not been out for several days. Wanting some 
exercise, I took Vic and my gun and started for a hill 
about two miles from the village, called Bass Hill, to see 
if the foxes were making any holes in the snow in that 
country or not— intending, if I found plenty of sign, to 
go there some day for a hunt. I had been on this hill 
several times in the fall, but had not been there since 
snow came. 
As soon as I got out of the village, on higher ground, I 
found that the wind was not strong enough to fill the air 
with snow, but the latter was drifting along close to the 
ground all the time, and would fill a track very quickly. 
I did not find a scratch until I got to a small hill north- 
west from Bass Hill. There I found where two foxes 
had bpen playing and chasing each other all around and 
over the top of the hill. 
The snow had blown pretty much all off on the hills, 
down to the hard crust underneath, so that Vic could 
not do much of a job at following; but by swinging 
around the hill into the hollow between Hough and Bass 
hills, we found where both foxes had gone toward Bass 
Hill. 
There is a large piece of woods on the north side of 
Bass Hdl, called Lowe's woods, where foxes used to lie a 
great deal, and I thought these might have gone there. 
Bight above this piece of woods stands a large elm tree, 
near the fence that runs north and south over the top of 
the hill, and foxes going onto the hill from the woods 
most always go within gunshot of this elm. 
I thought I would keep Vic with me until I found out 
if the foxes had gone into the woods. If they had, I 
would let the dog go, and get to the elm as quick as I 
could; and if they had not, I would give it up and go 
home, as I had found out what I wanted to know, viz., 
whether there were foxes there or not; and I knew it 
would be useless to try and drive a fox with the wind 
blowing as it did that day and nothing but crust on the 
hills. 
1 do not know how it is with my brother sportsmen, 
but with me there is always a kind of fascination in fol- 
lowing tracks in the snow, and the harder they are to 
follow the more I want to follow them; so that, although 
I soon found the tracks, did not lead into Lowe's woods, 
but kept on over Bass Hill, instead of going home, I kept 
following on. 
After we got up on the hill Vic could not get ahead 
much; but, knowing the route foxes usually took over 
the hill, and swinging this way and that, finding a track 
here where they had crossed a drift alongside the wall, or 
there where they had stopped under an apple tree to eat 
a frczpn apple, and sometimes a scratch of their claws on 
the hard crust, I managed to follow them over Bass Hill 
to the south end. There I lost them. Swinging for them 
in the hollow beyond, we found a single track. Vic, as 
soon as he stuck his nose into it, said it was a better one 
than those we had been following. It was full of snow, 
but the scent was strong enough, so that he followed it at 
a fair jog with but little help. 
The track led on south to Methodist Hill, and I judged 
from the course he was following that he was headed for 
a ravine on the west side of the hill, where I had jumped 
a number of foxes before. The field that the fox went 
through on his way to the ravine was quite a good run- 
way for foxes coming onto the hill from the west side; 
so, as the scent was so good here that the dog followed it 
without any help fr>m me, I stayed back, thinking that 
if Vic jumped the fox in the ravine he might come back 
onto the hill. I had waited but a few minutes when I 
heard Vic break out, and knew the fox was afoot. 
There was quite a long stretch of open country below 
me, and at the foot of it was a round, bare knoll, around 
the back side of which I could hear Vic driving; but he 
soon turned, and I could hear him coming toward the top 
of the hill. I looked around for something to get behind, 
out of sight. I was in the middle of an open field, and 
there was nothing there but a small heap of stones, with 
a few raspberry bushes sticking out of it. I got down 
behind that and made myself as small as possible; but do 
the best I could, I could not cover more than half my 
body. 
By this time I could hear Vic coming over the top of 
the knoll, and began to look with all the eyes I had for 
the fox; but no fox could I see until I looked way back to 
what seemed but 3 or 4ft, from Vic's nose, and there I 
saw the gentleman. He would run along for 8 or 10 rods 
and then turn and wait for the dog, or run back toward 
him and jump at him, then turn and go on again. It 
looked sometimes as though the dog almost had him in 
his mouth before the fox would turn and run. Some of 
the time the fox would come straight toward me; then 
my heart would jump into my throat; then he would 
turn and go off to one side, and my chin would drop 
down to my knees. They had about a third of a mile to 
come in this way, and any brother fox hunter who has 
"been there" knows all the different alternations of hope 
and fear, joy and despair, a man can experience under 
such circumstances. 
Whpn the fox got within about 60yds. of me, I got the 
gun to bear on him and kept it there, expecting every 
instant that he would see me and turn. I calculated if he 
saw me to let him have it as he turned; if he did not, to 
let him come as near as he would before I shot. He came 
on until he was about 50yds. from me; then up went his 
head, flop went his tail, and away he started. I pulled. 
Click! Toe primer did not explode. I pulled the other 
barrel on him; but it was a long distance and a rear shot, 
and I don't think I touched him. 
If there is anything in the sportsmen's vocabulary any 
stronger than the modern or ancient "eheu" to express a 
poor fellow's feelings on such an occasion, I think then 
would have been an eminently proper and fitting time to 
have used it. 
Perhaps that fox did not make tracks out of there. A 
long ways apart those tracks were too. They pointed 
back toward Bass Hill. About this time the wind began 
to blow stronger and stronger, and by the time Vic got on 
the south end of Bass Hill it blew a smart gale. The air 
was full of snow, and when the particles struck one in 
the face they stung like nettles. They got into one's eyes, 
hair, pockets and everywhere they had the least chance 
to get. Vic got on to the south end of the hill, but could 
not get further with it. Alter some time he came back 
to me all curled up with the cold, his eyes and hair full of 
snow, a most disconsolate looking "purp." 
I started for home, never expecting to see the fox again 
— that day at least. The nearest way home was back 
over Baas Hill. The wind was in the northwest. I had 
to face it all the way home. I got along very well until I 
got near the top. There the wind and snow were too 
much for me; I gave it up. It was more than Vic wanted 
too. He would shake his head, run into all the hollows 
and behind the rocks — anywhere to get out of the way 
of it. 
I turned and started for the east side of the hill, intend- 
ing to keep down low on that side until I got to Lowe's 
woods; then I could get along all right. I got down to 
some scattering trees about halfway down the hill, with 
Vic trying to protect himself from the wind and snow 
behind my heels, when all at once Ow-o-o-ol ow! ow! I 
looked around. Vic was flying around like a hen with 
her head cut off. I went back and found a fox track full 
of snow. I followed it backward for a piece, and found 
it came down from the top nf the hill. I made up my 
mind it was made by the fox Vic drove on there, and that 
he started to go over the top of the hill, as they usually 
do, but did not like the wind and snow; so got over on 
the east side, same as I did, to get out of the way of it. 
While I was looking to see where the track came from, 
Vic was trying to pick it up the other way, and finally 
got it to a small Bugir orchard; kept along by the edge of 
this over into the hollow beyond, out of my sight. I 
waited some time for him to come back, but he did not 
come. I could hear him bark every little while, but the 
sounds all seemed to come from about the same place. I 
was anxious to get down off the hill out of the wind, so I 
went back to the edge of the woods where I saw the dog 
last to try and get him. 
When I got there I could hear him in the hollow be- 
yond. I went along a few steps further, and I could see 
him swinging back and forth trying to get the track 
away. I was just about to call to him when I saw some- 
thing that looked like a fox's ears just sticking up above 
the edge of a drift between the dog and myself. Think- 
ing it impossible it could be a fox, I took another step 
toward it; and there, sure enough, lay Mr. Fox stretched 
out flat on his side watchiog the dog. He was q lite a 
distance from me, and all I could see of him was part of 
his head and about an inch along his back. I think now 
I could have walked up within good gunshot of him. 
The wind made so much noise in the trees, and he was so 
deeply interested in the dog, that I do not think he would 
have heard me; but the wind was blowing nearly toward 
him from me, and I was afraid he would smell me, so I 
unhitched at him from where I was. He got up and out 
of there lively, and started for th« top of the hill; just as 
he got to the edge of the woods I gave him the other 
barrel. I did not make allowance enough for the speed 
of reynard and the wind, across which I had to shoot, 
and so shot behind, hitting him in the hind quarters. He 
tumbled over, got up, and began whirling around and 
biting his hindlegs. I broke open my gun, put my hand 
in my pocket for another cartridge (I had but one left, 
hardly ever carrying more than four fox hunting) and 
found my pocket full of snow and a coating of ice froze 
all around the shell, which was a brass one. Another 
chance to say "eheu." I tried to scrape the ice off with 
my thumbnail, but it was too hard. Then I held it in my 
bare hand, closing my fingers over it tight, trying to 
warm it enough in that way to scrape the ice off. 
In the meantime the fox had quit biting himself, and 
sat there broadside on watching the dog, who was still in 
the hollow below. And there 1 stood right in plain sight, 
not more than 3oyds. from the fox, trying to thaw out 
that shell, expecting every instant the fox would see me 
and run, or that Vic would come up and scare him. 
Just imagine yourself there. 
I got the shell thawed out finally, so that I scraped off 
most of the ice, the rest peeling off when I shoved it into 
the chamber. I tried to 'close the gun, but it would not 
shut far enough for the snap to catch. Same more 
^eheu." I tried the best I could to press it together, but 
it would not go. Then I pounded on the rear end of the 
barrels, to try and force them down. No go. 
Now Mr. Reynard had endured all the rest of my fool- 
ing around patiently, but when I began to pound on the 
barrels with my hand that was a little too much; he gave 
me one look and started for the top of Bass Hill at his 
best speed. 
I broke open my gun and found out very quickly where 
the trouble was. The ice that peeled off the shell when I 
shoved it into the chamber dropped down into the corner 
of the breech block and froze, Then I got out my knife, 
cut out the ice, closed the gun, and went down to where 
the fox wps when I shot at him last. 
I found plenty of blood, and that the fox left blood at 
every jump. There was no tracking here at all— nothing 
but crust. I got Vic up there, but he could not make 
anything of it. I suppose the wind blew so hard it car- 
ried the scent away. I followed along the best I could 
by the blood. It was tough business facing the wind and 
snow, and grew worse as we neared the top of the hill. 
We got up to the old orchard, and looking over the fence 
just beyond, there was the fox, moping along 40 or 
50yds. from me. Hoping to disable him, I very foolishly 
fired my last cartridge at him. About the same time Vic 
got his eye on the fox, and away they went over the top 
of the hill out of sight. I hurried on to where I saw 
them last, and found on looking around that the fox had 
stopped bleeding, so I could not have that to help me any 
more. 
I found Vic on top of the hill. He could not follow an 
instant after the fox got out of his sight. The wind blew 
a gale, the air was full of flying snow, it was almost im- 
possible to face it. It would blow ones breath back down 
one's throat and chill him to the very marrow. Bowing 
my head to the blast, I started over the top, swinging to 
the right and left to see if I could find any trace of the 
fox. I found once in a while a track full of snow, but I 
was confident they must have been made by the fox. I 
found also one or two places where the fcxs flaws had 
scatched the crust when he was running. I followed on 
in this way until I got on the north side of the hill, and 
there I lost it altogether. Swing which way I would, I 
could not find it. 
I was chilled through and tired out, for it was very 
hard traveling some of the way. I made up my mind I 
should have to give it up, although I hated to, as I do not 
like to go off and leave anything wounded in that way. 
I started down toward Lowe's woods but had gone only 
a short distance when I saw on a little ridge belvw me 
Mr Fox trotting alang. His ears were laid back flat and 
he looked mad enough to bite cff railroad spikes. 
The reason I had not seen him btfore was because the 
air close to the ground was full of snow. He was going 
toward Lowe's woods, and as that was just where I want- 
ed him to go, I kept quiet until he got over the ridge out 
of sight, and then ran down there. From here I could 
see all over the country between the woods and myself. 
A short distance below ne was the fox still going toward 
the woods. I knew that he must be wounded in the 
hindlegs, and my idea was to get him into the deep, soft 
snow in the woods, where, if he did not hole, the dog 
might catch him. I let him get near enough to the 
woods, so that I thought be couli not dodge the dog and 
get back on the hill Then I pointed him out to Vic and 
told him to go it. The fox heard me when I spoke to the 
dog, and started for the woods at his best gait. The dog 
was all doubl d up with the cell, and could not run much 
faster at first than I couli wfclk; but as lie got warmed 
up he began to open and shut consideratly and gain a 
little on the fox. About this time reynard began to find 
snow under the lee of the woods. He did not make more 
than three or four jumps in it before he found out his 
mistake, and whiilmg he started back for the hill. This 
was my cue to come on the stage of action ; so I ran to 
head him off, swinging my empty gun and ytlling like a 
steam gong. It was a close race, but I put on steam and 
just barely got there in time, and headed him back 
toward the woods. 
Vic was gaining on the gentleman now at every jump. 
The fox tried hard to make the woods, but he 1 at too 
much time trying to get back to the hill. He was within 
a short distance of the woods, but saw the dog was bound 
to overtake him before he got there,; so he turned and 
stood at bay. When Vic came up he made a grab for 
the fox and got nipped himself. After that he stood back 
a proper distance and waited for me to come up. He 
kept his eye on the fox until I was close to him, then he 
re 11 d his eye around toward me, as much as to say, "I 
shall have to have a little help here>. old man!" 
The instant Vic took his eye tff him the fox whirled 
and started for the woods again. 
There was a stone wall along the edge of the woods, with 
a couple of rails on top of the stone. The snow was up 
even with the top of the wall. The fox crawled through 
under the rails, and, jumping off on the other side, land- 
ed in a hole in the snow, and before he could gather him- 
self I made a grab for his hind leg and he made a grab for 
my hand. We d d not either of us get caught. I made 
another grab and got him by the leg this time. Vic got 
hold of him about the same time and made short work of 
him. It was a large d >g fox. On stripping c if his skin I 
found three shot had gone through both hindlegs, but 
without breaking the bones. The snow stuck in the 
blood on his legs, and that was what stopped the bleed- 
ing. Thus endtd the queerest and most exciting hu <t I 
ever had. How is it with you? Shawnee. 
National Beagle Club of America. 
A BEGULA.R quarterly meeting of the National Beagle 
Club of America was held at the rooms nf the American 
Kennel Cluh, 55 Liberty street, New York, Thursday, 
April 30. The members present were: President Her- 
mann F. Schellhass, J. W. Appleton, George B Post, Jr,, 
A. Wright Post, H. L. Kreuder, George W. Rogers and 
G. Mifflin Wharton. 
Minutes of last meeting were approved. Communications 
received from Messrs. Jamison and Summers read, and on 
motion was laid on the table. Moved and seconded that 
the treasurer be authorized to pay special prizes won at 
the New England Kennel Club show held at Boston. At 
the last quarterly meeting of the club it was voted to sub- 
mit the following to the members for a vote: All special 
pr.zes offered by the National Beagle Club of America to 
be either of cash or plate. The vote stood as follows: for 
cash, 10; for plate, 8; option 2, 
The above failed to carry in accordance with the by- 
laws. Adjourned. Geo. W. Rogers, Sec'y. 
250 West Twenty-second street. New York. 
In our business columns, Wanoosnac Gordon Kennels, 
Leominster, Mass , offer Gordon setters. J. H. Folley, 
Paterson. N. J , offers pointer bitch. E. Spalding, Shan- 
nock, R. I., offers fox and coon dog. Muckross Kennels, 
Springfield, Vt., offer Irish setter bitch in whelp. J. F. 
Curly, Fitchburg, Mass., offers pointer bitch. Kearsarge 
Kennels, Elkins, N. H., off er setters, pointers and hounds. 
