THE NATURALIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 2252, 29 April 1897, Page 48

THE NATURALIST.

Reynard's Cunning-. The obstinacy of the mule and the I stupidity of the donkey are indubitable ; but | all we can find to say of that really intelliI gent quadruped the elephant is anent its siza and ponderosity. We apply the lightness of the fawn and the grace of the deer to the girl we love, while those of the gazelle alone resemble the beauty of her eyes ; bub when she jilts us she performs an astounding zoological metamorphosis, and we cm Bee nothing like her in creation but the green eyes, sharp teeth, and treacherous claws of a cat. One old friend offiEsop's once and for all established a reputation which centuries have only served to emphasise. Reynard the Fox stands out from the entire fauna of any country which he honours with his presence, par excellence, the most wily and cunning of living creatures, not excluding the lords of creation themselves. Reynard, so have hunting men remarked again and again, has a short life, but a merry one— : and really it is a fine, healthy, vagabond, gipsy-like existence. Born in the leafy recesses of a picturesque wood, his early life must be very pleasant, till his natural enemies are let loose upon him, and he suffers bereavement in the shape of a brother or two, or an only sister, whO are found to be missing after ri stampede of noisy dogs have passed through the cover. Then there are events in his life the novelty and sweetness of which never leave his memory, even in the heat of the chase ; for instance, the night when his loving mother introduced him to his first ben roost, and the profuse and festive supper that followed. And then, when the end comes, what an end ! The observed of all observers, the cynosure of the chase; an opportunity afforded him to exercise the talent for which he is celebrated ; and if, after employing every device which experience and observation have stamped upon his braid, he fails, over he goes, dying hard, surrounded by bis j foes, and his grand brush presented to some fair Diana, for whom it must be an honour to any gallant fox to die. Southey's story is of a tame fox at Brldgwater which had been brought up from a cub to run in the wheel aB a turnspit. One day, however, his vagabond instinct proved too much for him, and he determined to take a holiday. The fleshpots of hie Egypt were as dust and ashes to his palate compared with the chickens of his own selection. Unfortunately he choee the hunting season for bis excursion, and soon came in contact with his hereditary persecutors. He evidently determined to give them a good run, for be took them twice through a stream called the Parrot, after a grand circumbendibus, which involved a chase of nearly 30 miles ; he made his way back with bounds in full cry, and, reentering the kitchen, resumed operations in the wheel with as much unconcern as though he had never left it. The fat cook, with whom he was a great favourite, succeeded in beating the hounds off till the arrival of the huntsman, who humanely assisted in saving a life which, if sagacity and ingenuity be virtues, well deHcrred to be spared. A somewhat risky hiding-place, especially if the stowaway remained in seclusion for an indefinite period, is a baker's oven, and yet the writer has two instances before him of such a selection, one occurring with the Blankney pack when Major Tempest was master and Oapell huntsman. A precious quarter of an hour elapsed before the fugitive was dincovered. The other, in the experience of H. Reginald Corbett, Esq., seemed to have 1 entirely disappeared in the neighbourhood of

some farm buildings, when a lad arrived with the information that the fox " had got into the bread oven, and was there still." Smart doubling, for which all foxes are more or less famous, is naturally one of hia most elementary tactics. Many are the stories of the success of this operation, and of the cleverness of it even when it has failed. Thus a fox got away by leading hounds to a clipped hedge, and, hiding on the other side till they had torn pell-mell over, gently and leisurely leapt on to the hedge again, and running along the top got clean away. He was observed by a person on foot, who, of course, was unable to interfere with his well-earned safety, the fox returning at an easy jog-trot to his home, totally unconcerned and oblivious of the adaptation of an old proverb which would ultimately apply to. his case, "He who is hunted and gets away may live to be hunted another day." From Scotland comes a tale of failure attributable purely to accident, and to no lack of iDgenuity. Things were getting very desperate for Roynard ; in fact it was close on " catching time " when he led through an open fir-wood along whioh ran a sft wall, towards which hounds were running at an angle of about 75deg. On reaching the spot where the fox had scrambled over the wall, hounds checked, when one of the field, looking to - his left, saw Master Eeynard running x aloug the top of the wall in an opposite direction, and when obBerved he was practically parallel with hounds. After about 600 yards of this mural promenade Reynard jumped down on the further side ; but his enemy had spotted him, and relentlessly put hounds on his line, and a kill was effected in a very few minutes. Oa the 12th day of April 18S7, whilst the Border pack were hunting on Cheviot, the fox was run into a rocky glen called Hen Hole in that mountain, and an easy kill was looked forward to in what was practically a cul de sac. When the hunt got up, to their amazement they found hounds sitting in 'a picturesque group on one rock, gaziDg in astonishment at or watching eagerly the steep and apparently quite inaccessible rock opposite. Oa the face of this cliff there wa« a raven's nest, and on examination the fox was found, or, more oorreotly, seen to be in it, much to the perturbation of the lawful owner, who, however rude its construction, bad been architect and builder and, up to then, landlord and tenant of the habitation. Keynard had reached it by a singularly narrow ledge, such as one might have imagined a possible promenade for a cat, but certainly not for a fox. To leave the rugged north for the more fertile south, and the nest of a raven for the gown of a lady of title, a story of the old Surrey pack in the sixties reaches the writer of a beaten fox, after fagging wearily through a park, seeking a refuge, much to the inconvenience, terror, and possible danger of its victim, under a lady's skirts.— Selections from Young Stewart's " Reynard's Bids for Sanctuary" in the English Illustrated.