THE LIFE OF A FOX. 135

I think I still hear the voice of old Will, crying
out, “ Every hound has got a fox!” As I jumped
over the fence, he was still holding his whip in
the air, undecided which of the four lots (into
which the hounds had divided) he should follow.
So good was the scent on that day, that although
only about four couples of hounds followed me, I
went straight to another drain; and, strange to
say, there found another of the same party as
before, which accounted for the two first lots of
hounds leaving a short time before they ran up to
the earth. Here our lives were again in danger ;
and, hearing the men again digging at some dis-
tance, I profited by what’ had passed, and pushed
beyond it. My unfortunate fellow was again
forced out by the same terrier, and fell a victim
to our foes ; who, not suspecting that another fox
was in the earth; again left me. |

“ Well, Will, do you recollect the foresay about
there being half-a-dozen foxes in the last drain hf

“J do, my lord; and now the gentleman’s
foresays have all been fulfilled from beginning to

end.”