22 THE LIFE OF A FOX,

a single hound; then, all on a sudden, the deep
voice of Sawyer, the whipper-in, calling, “'Tally-o !
there he goes; ’tis a mangy cub!” In a minute
every hound was after him, and in full cry
for a quarter of an hour; suddenly the noise
ceased, and the fatal holloa, “ Whoop!” was often
repeated by the men with “Tear him boys;
whoop! whoop!” And that was the end of my
poor mangy brother. They then, not having seen
any other of us for some time, thought we were
gone to ground, and went away. Happy was I to
hear that horn, which had before caused me such
terror, calling away the hounds, that, to judge
from their loud breathing as they passed near me,
were not loath to go; for it was nearly ten o’clock,
and the heat most oppressive. They were mis-
_ taken in thinking we were all gone away, although
my brother and sisters had taken advantage of the
hounds running in the open, and had gone across
to the gorse covert, from which my unfortunate
brother just killed had often, in consequence of
his mangy state, been driven by our mother.

Again we had to thank that mother for our