THE LIFE OF A FOX. 37

daylight, and we. are glad to get out of their
sight as soon as we can and go into our kennel,
lest they should betray us to the keepers, who
are also often abroad at that time. The worst is,
that at times, when we think we have got away
from hounds which are hunting us, these birds,
by making a noise and darting down almost upon
us, as they continue to do where we run along,
point out to the hunters exactly where we are.

It has often happened that I have been betrayed
by an old cock pheasant. No bird has a quicker
eye than he has, and directly he saw me he would
begin kuckupping, and continue to make this
noise as long as I remained near him, obliging
me to move away.

My life during the summer months was one of
almost uninterrupted pleasure. Naturally fixing
my head quarters near the part of the country
where I was bred, I would often ramble by night a
great distance, and frequently remarked with sur-
prise, as I crossed any line that I had taken when
hunted, the wonderful straightness with which I

had pursued it, as it was often in a direction