86 THE LIFE OF A FOX.

opposite. Although it now became slow hunting,
I did not feel safe until I heard him blow his
horn to go home. I believe that this kind of
mistake, or rather neglect, has been frequent
on the part of other huntsmen by whom I have
been hunted. Be that as it may, one or two
escapes from this able man and his pack were
sufficient to induce me to get quickly into another
hunt out of his way. Those escapes may be
attributed to the want of scent, and they will not
seem surprising, if the time be calculated which
was lost at every check, whilst I was going on
without listening as the hare always does. Having
stopped some little time in a strong covert of
gorse in an open down, in Mr. Drax’s country,
south of Blandford, and close adjoining to Lord
Portman’s, I was one morning annoyed by hear-
ing the voice of Mr. Drax’s huntsman, John Last,
who was drawing the covert with his hounds,
by which I was shortly after surrounded, Being
ignorant of the runs and tracks in the gorse, I
was so pressed by them, that I sprung upon the
top of the gorse, and ran along it for a few yards,