With Old-Time Fox Hunters. 
The fascination of fox hunting will never be 
lost to the old-time fox hunter of Meigs county, 
Ohio, so long as he can light his lantern after 
the shades of night have fallen, and with the 
old hound pick his way through the trees and 
underbrush to the highest knob in the neighbor¬ 
hood, where he will await the first bay of his 
good hound, announcing that he is on the trail 
of old red fox. With great expectancy he waits 
developments, where every note of the hound 
means something to his experienced ear, and 
telis him the direction taken by the fox and 
about how far behind the hound is, and when 
the hound begins gaining and keeps getting 
closer, then the music comes fast and furious, 
and the old fox turns his head every little bit 
to see just where his pursuer is and how much 
faster he ought to run, or doubles on his trail 
or executes one of the many other cunning tricks 
which often keep hound and hunter guessing. 
And about the time you think old Drive has lost 
him, you hear a faint bay over some ridge tell¬ 
ing you that red fox is still being pursued. 
The old fox hunter generally starts out soon 
after nightfall, as the fox, after being holed all 
day or lying in some thick cover, is then on the 
move to seek some covey of quail or a luckless 
rabbit that may happen in his path. The love 
of nature and its creatures is the incentive which 
promotes that desire to be out under the canopy 
of the sky with its stars and moonlight, or the 
blackness of a stormy night and clouds. It is 
all the same to the fox hunter. Even a little 
rain or snow does not deter him nor dampen his 
ardor and enthusiasm. If very cold or damp 
he will build a little fire in the niche of a rock 
protected from the wind, and there keep in 
touch with the work of the hound. Knowing 
the crossings well, it is not unusual to see the 
fox on moonlight nights. 
Frequently other hounds are turned loose in 
the neighborhood by farmers who are out feed¬ 
ing late and hear the hound of the lone hunter 
on the hill. They see the little fire and go up to 
be in at the finish. Often a half dozen will 
congregate and have as many as a dozen hounds 
all running at the same time. 
Having accepted the hospitality of Hartwell 
Stanbery, of Pomeroy, for the quail season of 
1910, we were most comfortably located in a 
fine old log cabin in Bedford township on the 
Whaley farm, known as Loren Parsons’ Hollow, 
near which were a number of large caves and 
numerous springs, making excellent hiding places 
for fox, and many an evening while resting be¬ 
fore the log fire the hounds of the neighborhood 
would take a fox past the cabin a stone’s throw 
from the door. 
Mr. Stanbery wished to give the fox hunters 
of the vicinity a little party, and invitations were 
sent by mail, telephone and horse to the fox 
hunters to be present on the evening of Nov. 21 
for a big chase and a turkey roast on Turkey 
Knob. As early as 4 o’clock in the afternoon of 
the 21st they began to assemble at the cabin 
with dogs and lanterns, and by 6 o'clock, all 
being ready, old Drive, a hound belonging to 
William Whaley, was released back of the cabin 
and all the other dogs led up the hollow about 
a hundred yards. In just twelve minutes she 
gave tongue and had a fox started. The whole 
pack was then released and the chase was very 
lively, as a portion of the pack were running 
him close and the noise they made was great 
music to that crowd of sixty men who listened 
until the hounds took the fox over Bear Wallow 
Ridge and down Irwin Creek where Reynard 
worked a trick on them, but the hounds turned 
him up again on Jones Ridge and down on 
Shade River bottom over on to Bunker Hill and 
Middle Branch. Old Drive and a dog belong¬ 
ing to Ed. O’Brien, were well up, while a num¬ 
ber of other hounds were prominent in the chase. 
It was an ideal night, but clouded later, and a 
little rain fell, making it fine for the hounds. 
After starting the hounds, all hands were taken 
to Turkey Knob, the highest point in that vicinity. 
A clear place having been found, a large fire 
was built between two hickory saplings and a 
pole run across between them where I was to 
do the honors of the turkey roasting, a twenty- 
two-pounder being candidate for browning. The 
turkey was suspended on a wire in the center of 
a pole directly over the fire and high enough to 
keep it away from the flame, and as the fire 
burned down to coals, the turkey was lowered. 
The light of the fire shining on the faces of a 
fine assembly of sportsmen made a fanciful 
scene, with the grizzled beards of the older men 
and the different characters. I walked away 
from the light of the fire and looked at them. 
It was a picture. Little groups of men would 
leave the fire to get away to more clearly hear 
the progress of the hounds, and the stories of 
former chases told by the older hunters were 
immensely interesting. 
Old “Daddy” Reinhart told of when he came 
with three other fox hunters from Pomeroy in 
1879 to hunt. He walked the eighteen miles to 
meet the best dogs they had in that county. 
“They knew we were coming,” said he. “I knew 
that we had splendid hounds, as they had been 
training ever since the first frost that fall. My 
big long-bodied Old Gun Barrel I had picked 
as one hard to beat. My other dog was Whistle 
Trigger. We had a few little side bets up on 
the relative merits of our dogs, but when we 
had run a few chases we cleaned up on the 
Bedford boys so hard that they would not bet 
any more, so we ran a lot of new dogs they 
brought in just for fun. We stayed there nearly 
ten days and had one of the best times I ever 
had m my life.” 
Daddy is getting old now, but his spirit is 
young and he likes to sit by the fire and see 
those dogs running in the coals. Among those 
in attendance not mentioned were Jackson 
Howard, eightv-four years old; Loren Mi’es, 
seventy; John Carsey, sixty-six (we called him 
General Custer owing to his likeness to the ill- 
fated general); Daddy Reinhart, sixty-three; 
Servitus Hart, fifty-nine; John Hines, fifty; 
Benny Morris, Mike Williams, Charles Hines, 
Dell Whaley, Luther Carsey, Welby Whaley, 
Otis Whaley, Earl Hines, Ernest Hart, Ray 
Morris, Ciick Howett, Dale Whaley, Will Biech- 
man, Ed. Sharp and Theo. Minnick were from 
Pomeroy. 
At 10:45 the turkey was brown as a berry 
and looked fit to eat, so all hands were directed 
to cut a forked stick and toast themselves a 
slice of bread and come for a slice of turkey 
which, with the other refreshments liberally pro¬ 
vided, made a very fine lunch for the hungry 
hunters. “General” Loren Miles, who was an 
old soldier, made a very able address, as did also 
Mr. Howard, eighty-four. John Carsey, Bob 
Perry, Ike Cullom and Ed. O’Brien all made 
addresses, and in concluding the banquet Mr. 
Stanbery told them it was a pleasure to meet 
such a fine lot of hunters, and he hoped it would 
not be the last time. 
About 11:15 the dogs holed the fox about a 
mile distant, and the chase was over. The Bed¬ 
ford boys passed a vote of thanks for the enter¬ 
tainment and begged the privilege of entertain¬ 
ing us on Nov. 28, before breaking camp. We 
accepted. 
Monday evening, the 28th, found all the 
hunters on hand for the second chase. The night 
was a bad one with a drizzle, and it was found 
necessary to hold the turkey roast in Devil’s 
Cave, 200 yards from the cabin, where ample 
room for 500 men was to be had. This cave is 
one of the largest in that section of the coun¬ 
try and well fitted for an event of this kind. The 
turkey, a very large one, as well as chickens 
and various other good things, were furnished 
by the fox hunters of the neighborhood, and the 
chase and the banquet given in our honor. I- 
was pressed into service to roast the big turkey. 
Three dogs were loosed back of the cabin at 
5 o’clock, and in less than five minutes had a 
fox started up Loren Parsons' Hollow, less than 
500 yards away, and the whole pack was loosed 
and the fox fo'lowed the ridge around just above 
the cave where a number of dogs were pressing 
him close. The tracking was good, and Mike 
Williams’ hound and William Whaley’s Drive 
kept well along toward the front. The chase 
was continued from one ridge to another, across 
Shade River and Middle Branch, twice bringing 
the fox near us, and the music of the hounds 
was most pleasing to the entire party. 
While the turkey was roasting, the string band 
from Pomeroy and Columbus rendered fine selec¬ 
tions. The smooth side of a large cut s’ab was 
found and Dell Whaley had his brother Will 
play his famous “Clucking Jenny,” and Dell did 
a line of clog dancing that would have made 
some vaudeville performers turn green with 
envy. Dale Whaley, a lad of twelve years, did 
some fine clog work. Uncle Jackie Howard, 
eighty-four years of age, gave the boys a good 
talk, and by his presence that stormy night 
showed that he was indeed a believer in what 
he preached. General Miles also addressed the 
assembly at some length, and time rolled around 
until about 10:30, when the turkey was ready, 
