34 THE LIFE OF A FOX.

and his clever whipper-in, I had, notwithstanding
the dry weather, enough to do to save my life,

On one occasion, I had a most severe day’s
work, for the scent was remarkably good. I was
lying quiet in my kennel, very unwilling to
move, though I heard the hounds running a fox
close to me, which they very soon lost, as they
could not, or would not, hunt it. I thought this
very strange, as by the use of my nose I knew it
to be a good scenting day. It turned out that
the fox was a vixen, which had just laid up her
cubs ; the effect of which generally is, that the
scent: becomes so different, that hounds, old ones
particularly, appear to know it, as if by intuition,
and will not hunt it. As I had not had more notice
of their approach, I thought my best chance of
escape was to be perfectly still,—a plan often
adopted by me since on a good scenting day; but
it was of no use, for the huntsman almost rode
upon me in drawing the cover; and I was
obliged to fly when the hounds were close to
me; however, after a long run, I most luckily

escaped.