pursuer. If the hound press him too closely, he leads off from
mountain to mountain, and so generally escapes the hunter; but if
the pursuit be slow, he plays about some ridge or peak, and falls a
prey, though not an easy one, to the experienced sportsman.

A most spirited and exciting chase occurs when the farm-dog gets
close upon one in the open field, as sometimes happens in the early
morning. The fox relies so confidently upon his superior speed, that
I imagine he half tempts the dog to the race. But if the dog be a
smart one, and their course lies down-hill, over smooth ground,
Reynard must put his best foot forward, and then sometimes suffer
the ignominy of being run over by his pursuer, who, however, is
quite unable to pick him up, owing to the speed. But when they
mount the hill, or enter the woods, the superior nimbleness and
agility of the fox tell at once, and he easily leaves the dog far in
his rear. For a cur less than his own size he manifests little fear,
especially if the two meet alone, remote from the house. In such
cases, I have seen first one turn tail, then the other.

A novel spectacle often occurs in summer, when the female has young.
You are rambling on the mountain, accompanied by your dog, when you
are startled by that wild, half-threatening squall, and in a moment
perceive your dog, with inverted tail, and shame and confusion in
his looks, sneaking toward you, the old fox but a few rods in his
rear. You speak to him sharply, when he bristles up, turns about,
and, barking, starts off vigorously, as if to wipe out the dishonor;
but in a moment comes sneaking back more abashed than ever, and owns
himself unworthy to be called a dog. The fox fairly shames him out
of the woods. The secret of the matter is her sex, though her
conduct, for the honor of the fox be it said, seems to be prompted