THE LIFE OF A FOX, 127

nine days before, and that he forgot to open the
drain again.

I once crossed the Tweed at a dangerous part,
thinking that I should, by so doing, leave the
hounds and all behind. Not so; for the hunts-
man was not to be stopped, but swam his
horse, as two or three others did, across the
river; Treadwell, Mr. Robertson’s huntsman,
taking the lead. Having thus crossed the river
without gaining my point, and running in a ring
of several miles, I recrossed the river at a spot
where it was impossible for horses to cross; so
that, being-a long way round, the hounds were
stopped, and it was agreed that I was drowned in
the Tweed.

Having seen some part of the country on the
English side of the Tweed, I determined to
cross back to it; and after being there a short
time only, and lying in a field of large turnips,
not uncommon in this part, I was awakened
by hearing a loud voice: « Treadwell, I wish
you would draw the hounds through this turnip
field. It is a very likely place to find a fox.”

G 4