HUNTING THE FOX.

Otago Witness, Volume 11, Issue 2280, 11 November 1897, Page 58

HUNTING THE FOX.

AN ENGLISH SCENE.

The kennels lie snugly at the foot of one of those great smooth hillß of grass which stand sentinel above the Channel upon the Sussex shore. It is 10 o'clock, and the hounds are just quitting their enclosure. They stream through the gate held open for them by one of the whips and pour out upon the grass slope, all mad with pleasure and excitement at the prospect of a whole day of liberty and a fox chase or two thrown in. Jt is a short hour's ride to the meet, and huntsmen, whips, and pack climb leisurely the slope of the great down which in smooth contour stands above them. It has besn a night of frost-, but already the sun is asserting his strength ; the white rime that met his rays is already turned tomoißture ; every leaf of tbe shore herbage glistens ; and there will be abundance of ecent for some hours. The three figures in red show up bravely upon the hillside, as they rise obliquely the 600ffc of down, and the gun flicks keen flashes of light from spur and bit. That smooth grass path which they are ascending has been worn for them by the patient feet of Sjxon hinds who for 1000 years have followed it. Presently hunters and hounds stand out in clear outline upon the brow and then disappear.

We climb the hill steadily, and in tarn are upon the summit. The hounds are far ahead now, and will soon be descending again. The Bun is busily licking up the white mist which lies in the hollows beneath, and the broad expanse of

SMOOTH, BOLLING DOWN COUNTHY is every minute becoming more char to the eyes. Io the valley just below a great compai<y of gulls has been sheltering during the night. They are preparing to descend for breakfast upon some ploughing which skirts the bills to the right, and as they rise upon tbe wing the sun tints with silver the delicate pearl-grey of their upj.er plumage. We push on, and now descend a steep elope of tbe down where the tun has not yet made itself felt and the rime lies thick and frosty upon tbe longer herbage. Another mile or two and we are at the meeting place — a quiet hamlet, lapped in one of those warm, welltimbered coombs which lie amid the spurs of the South Downs. Fifteen minutes in front of a pleasant, cornfortable-lookirg country house ; cherry brandy or ale for those that fancy it; conversation which, despite the* hard times, sounds cheery enough ; and then the word is given, and the hounds are trotted to the woodland close at band.

The squire here is a keen fox preserver, and not five minutes elapse before the whimper of a single staur eh bound has proclaimed a find. The whimper quickly swells to a chorus, and then, in fall cry, tbe whole pack break covert and face the long, sloping shoulder of down which stretches above them. A quarter of a- mile in front you may note ■ ' A SMAIL, SOLITARY PATCH OF BROWN moving swiftly and veiy smoothly over tbe dnll green grass. That is the fox they are' now in frantic pursuit of. After tbe bounds thunder the field, some 70 or 80 in number. They gallop slowly, for tbe down is not to be lightly overcome. In 10 minutes fox, hound?, and hunters Lave vaniehed over the brow.

Twenty minutes later down another shoulder of tbe down comes stealing that same little red- brown figure. The time has been brief enough, but the wonderfully easy, machine-like strides with which the fox faced the hill so short a time since has changed, and the gait is now strangely slow and laboured. la truth, fox-hunting upon these smooth hills, where there are co enclosures, do fences, and often little or no shelter for milep, is very hard upon the hunted beast, whtah is here as much coursed by the hounds as banted. Id 20 ehort minutes that fox ha 3 been practically run to deatb. He makes for the woodland from which he was driven, but there are foot-people between it and him, and be turns sbort round and canters wearily over a piece of ploogb, pointing for a patch of plantation under the hollow of the down.

A CHOKUS OF YELLS, HALLOO 3, AND SCKEAMS

from the foot-yeople somewhat hastens his progress. He rests but .three minutes in the plantation' patch, and then steals softly to another, and thence into the big covert again, almost afc the' spot from which he first broke. ■■

A blast of the horn floats cheerily across the valfey, and now upon the line of the hunted fox, down the shoulder of the hill, c^rae streaming honed* and hunters again. The pack woik round to the plough and there check. The huntsman casts them to the right without result, and then, after some few moments' delay, he is informed of iha fox's point, blows his horn, carries bis hounds forward, and is upon the line again. They hunt slowly under the bill — the sun has told upon the ploughing and scent is poor and catchy. In five minutes they have run through the plantations through which their hunted fox passed. They plunge into the woodland again, and are hidden from view. Five minutes later and the beginning of the end comes. Oace more from the covert thereemerges that little reddish-brown figure which we have seen twice before. Ifc creeps wearily out on to the plough for a hundred yards, and then there is once more s, hubbub of yells from Ihe foot-people.

EVEBYBODY HAS CAUGHT SIGHT OF IT. Almost at the same instant a crash of hound music comes from the covert, and the pack issues into the open again. They seem fresh enough, while tbe littlo drsggled weary figure out there upon the middle of the ploughing can now scarce drag one. leg after another. You may have seen many a well-hunted fox, never have you set eyes upon a more beaten one than that before you. The tillage rises a little in the centre ; it is all open ground, and tbe end of the chase is in foil view of everyone, mounted or on foot. Yefc, beaten, wearied to death, utterly hopeless, as he mu4 now be, tbe hunted creature b tea Is, with an invincible determination, sUffly forward.

For a little way tbe pack follows steadily upon the line, gaining fast : suddenly a lead.-

ing hound views a hundred yards intront th« I beaten fox. He raises his voice in . . FBA.NTIO DELIGHT J the rest of tbe pack in turn catch sight of their prey, and now, ravening together, dash j forward -with a crash of voices with renewed ' pace and vigour. The fox knows now that tho end is very near, yet he still holds his head straight and presses on. Tbe sight even to the hardened fox-hunter is almost a pathetic one. ' Here is no friendly ditch, no bush, no shelter of any kind where the bunted creature may set himself qp at the last and die, at least, with his back to the wall. All is bare, inhospitable, and open. The pack flashes f oi ward, one hound three lengths ahead oC his fellows.' He is within five yards of bis prey ; the fox suddenly faces around with open mouth and bared teeth ; the big hound grapples him fiercely, receiving a nasty bite es he does so ; in another instant the whole pack are -mingled in one wild delirium; THE DEATH HAS COMB. The huntsman gallops up, jumps off his good chestnut, rescues the dead and now tattered quarry, and, with the fuld gathered around bim, proceeds to conduct the last rites in due form. Why, one aeke one's self, instead of seeking the vale, where fences are plenty, sheep abound, and the chances of escape are increased a hundredfold, did that fox climb tbe bare down and 6uffer himself in that first 20 minutes' burst to be practically coursed to death? That is a question impossible : even for the huntsman to answer. Perchance he sought ' - . "

A BEFUGE 12? THE CLIFFS, which he found himself unable to attain j perchance he was turned from the valley by foot-people outside tbe covert. Whatever bis reasoos, and no doubt he had good vulpine reasons for tbe line be tock, tho smooth b?re bills proved his undoing. — Saturday R-sview.