e it was my plan to get
near the circle; taking care to approach it on the leeward side. If the
fox got a sniff of human scent, he would leave his circle very quickly,
and make tracks fast to be out of danger. By the baying of the hounds,
the circle in which the race was kept up could be easily known. The last
runs to get near enough to shoot had to be done when the hounds' baying
came from the side of the circle nearest to me. For then the fox would
be on the opposite side farthest away. As soon as I got near enough
to see the hounds when they passed, I stopped. When they got on the
opposite side, I then kept a bright lookout for the fox. Sometimes when
the brush was thick, the sight of him would be indistinct. The shooting
had to be quick. As soon as the report of the gun was heard, the hounds
ceased to bay, and made for the spot. If the fox was dead, they enjoyed
the scent of his blood. If only wounded, they went after him with all
speed. Sometimes he was overtaken and killed, and sometimes he got into
his burrow in the earth, or in a hollow log, or among the rocks.

"One day, I remember, when I was standing on the outside of the circle,
the fox came in sight. I fired. He gave a shrill bark, and came toward
me. Then he stopped in the snow and fell dead in his tracks. I was a
pretty good shot in those days."

"Poor little fox," said Miss Laura. "I wish you had let him get away."

"Here's one that nearly got away," said Mr. Wood. "One winter's day, I
was chasing him with the hounds. There was a crust on the snow, and
the fox was light, while the dogs were heavy. They ran along, the fox
trotting nimbly on the top of the crust and the dogs breaking through,
and every few minutes that fox would stop and sit down to look at the
dogs. They were in a fury, and the wickedness of the fox in teasing
them, made me laugh so much that I was very unwilling to shoot him."

"You said your steel traps were cruel things, uncle," said Miss Laura.
"Why didn't you have a deadfall for the foxes as you had for the bears?"

"They were too cunning to go into deadfalls. There was a better way to
catch them, though. Foxes hate water, and never go into it unless they
are obliged to, so we used to find a place where a tree had fallen
across a river, and made a bridge for them to go back and forth on. Here
we set snares, with spring poles that would throw them into the river
when they made struggles to get free, and drown them. Did you ever hea