THE LIFE OF A FOX. lll

ried me to Captain T——y, who sent me off
immediately as a present to Mr. G. Templar,
the master of a pack of small fox-hounds at
Stover in Devonshire, and I was carried into
a dark and gloomy place, which had been
at first intended for a large stable, and was
above seventy feet in length, and nearly the
same in breadth. Here I was let loose, and
looking about me in my fright, what should I
see but at least twenty other foxes, all coiled
up in the snug holes which they had made
for themselves. Besides these there were others
out of sight. They all took much care to hide
themselves when any man came in. As soon
as he who had brought me there had left
the place, they all came round me. I soon
learnt for what purpose I was brought hither,
for it appeared that each of them had been
separately hunted by this gentleman’s hounds,
which he had brought under such command,
that they scarcely ever killed the fox they
hunted; for when hunting up to him, if a

rider was near enough to make his voice heard,