Life — September 1, 1910 — page 32: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

*LIFE: How to Hunt the Fox BILL NYE The joyous season for hunting is again upon us. 2. , The huntsman now takes the flannels off his fox, rubs his stiffened limbs with gargling oil, ties a bunch of firecrackers to his tail, and runs him around the barn a few times to see if he is in good order. The foxhound is a cross of the blood- hound, the greyhound, the bulldog and the chump. When you step on_his tail he is said to be in full cry. The fox- hound obtains from his ancestors, on the bloodhound side of the house, his keen scent, which enables him while in full cry $ country to pause and hunt for chip- He also obtains from the bloodhound branch of wild yearning to star in an “Uncle Tom” little F meander up the flume at From the greyhound he gets his most miraculous speed, which enables him to attain a rate of velocity so great that he is unable to halt during the excitement of the chase, frequently running so far during the day that it takes him a week to get back, when, of course, all interest has died out. From the bulldog the fox- hound obtains his great tenacity of purpose, his deep-seated convictions, his quick perceptions, his love of home and his clinging nature. From the chump the foxhound gets his high intellectuality and that mental power which enables him to distinguish almost at a glance the salient points of difference between a two-year-old steer and a two-dollar bill, The foxhound is about two feet in height, and 120 of munks. his famil them would be considered an ample number’ for a quiet little fox-hunt. Some hunters think this number inade- quate, but unless the fox be unusually skittish and cr: under the barn, 120 foxhounds ought to be enough. The trouble generally is that hunters make too much noise, thus scaring the fox so that he tries tc get away from them. This necessitates hard riding and great activity on the part of the whippers-in. Frightening a fox almost always re- sults in sending him out of the road and compelling horse- men to stop in order to take down a panel of fence every little while that they may follow the animal, and before you can get the fence up again the owner is on the ground, and after you have made change with him and mounted again the fox may be nine miles away. Try by all means to keep your fox in the road! It makes a great difference what_kind of fox you use, however. I once had a fox on my Pumpkin Butte estates that lasted me three years, and I never knew him to shy or turn out of the road for anything but a loaded team. He was the best fox for hunting purposes that I ever had. Every spring I would sprinkle him with Scotch snuff and put him away in the bureau till fall. He would then come out bright and chipper. He was always ready to enter into the chase with all the chic and embonpoint of a regular Kenosha; and nothing pleased him better than to be about eight miles in advance of my thoroughbred pack in full cry, scampering ‘cross country, while stretching back a few miles behind the dogs followed a pale young man with his financier, each riding a horse that had sat down too hard on its tail some time and driven into its system about six joints. Some hunters who are madly and passionately devoted to the sport leap their horses over fences, moats, donjon keeps, hedges and currant bushes with utter sang-froid and the wild, unfettered toot ongsomble of a brass band. It is one of the most spirited and touchful of sights to see a young fox-hunter going home through the gloaming with a full cry in one hand and the pancreas in the other. par Some like to be in at the death, as it is called, arfd it is certainly a laudable ambition. To see 120 dogs hold out against a ferocious fox weighing nine pounds; to watch the brave little band of dogs and whippers-in and horses with sawed-off tails, making up in heroism what they lack in numbers, succeeding at last in ridding the country of the ferocious brute which has long been the acknowledged foe of the human race, is, indeed, a fine sight. Too much stress cannot be placed upon the costume worn while fox-hunting, and, in fact—that is, after all— the life and soul to the chase. For ladies, nothing looks better than a close-fitting jacket, sewed together with thread of the same shade, and a skirt. Neat-fitting cavalry boots and a plug hat complete the costume. Then with a hue in one hand, a cry in the other, she is prepared to mount. Lead the horse up to a stone wall or a freight car and spring lightly into the saddle with a glad cry. A freight car is the best thing from which to mount a horse, but is too unwieldy, and frequently delays the chase. For reason too much luggage should not be carried on a fo; hunt. Some gentlemen carry a change of canes, neatly concealed in a shawl-strap, but even this may be dispensed with. For gentlemen, a dark four-button cutaway coat, with neat, loose-fitting, white panties, will generally scare a fox into convulsions, so that he may be easily killed‘ with a club. A short-waisted plug hat may be worn also in order to distinguish the hunter from the whipper-in, who wears a baseball cap. The only fox-hunting I have ever done was on board an impetuous, tough-bitted, fore-and- aft horse that had emotional insanity. I was dressed in a swaliow-tail coat, waistcoat of Scotch plaid Turkish toweling and a pair of close-fitting breeches of etiquette tucked into my boot-tops. As I was away from home at the time and could not reach my own steed I was obliged to mount a spirited steed with high, intellectual hips, white eye and a big red nostril that you could set a S hai hen in. This horse, as soon as the pack broke into full ery, climbed over a fence that had wrought-iron bric it, lit in a cornfield, stabbed his hind leg through and yellow pumpkin, which he wore the rest of the with seven yards of pumpkin vine streaming out bel) and away we dashed ’cross country! I remained mounted not because I enjoyed it, for I did not, but because I dreaded to dismount. I hated to co of in pieces. If I can’t get off a horse's back as a whole I would rather adhere to the horse. I will add here that | did so. We did not see the fox, but we saw almost everything else. I remember, among other things, of riding through a hothouse, and how I enjoyed it. A morning scamper through a conservatory when the syringas and jonquils (Continued on page 362)