The hound came down the field like a whirlwind. He was running at least thirty yards to the left of the furrow the fox had followed.
“Why, he isn’t following the track of the fox,” exclaimed Miss Carter. “I thought hounds trailed foxes by the scent.”
“They do,” said Joe, “but Jonah doesn’t need to follow it as the other dogs do. The dog that runs with his nose to the ground can never catch a red fox.”
“Isn’t he beautiful!” cried the young lady, as Jonah rushed past, his head up and his sonorous voice making music in the air. He topped the fence some distance above the point where the fox had left it, lost the trail, and made a sweeping circle to the right, increasing his speed as he did so. Still at fault, he circled widely to the left, picked up the drag a quarter of a mile from the fence, and pushed on more eagerly than ever. The rest of the dogs had overrun the track at the point where the fox had turned to enter the field, but they finally found it again, and went by the spectators in fine style, running together very prettily. At the fence they lost the trail, and for some minutes they were casting about. One of the younger dogs wanted to take the back track, but Harbert turned him around, and was about to set the pack right, when the voice of Jonah was heard again, clear and ringing. Old Sandy, finding himself hard pushed, had dropped flat in the grass and allowed the hound to overrun him. Then he doubled, and started back. He gained but little, but he was still game. Jonah whirled in a short circle, and was after the fox almost instantly. Old Sandy seemed to know that this was his last opportunity. With a marvelous burst of speed he plunged through the belated dogs that were hunting for the lost drag, slipped through the fence, and went back by the spectators like a flash. There was a tremendous outburst of music from the dogs as they sighted him, and for one brief moment Joe was afraid that Jonah would be thrown out. The next instant the dog appeared on the fence, and there he sighted the fox. It was then that the courage and speed of Jonah showed themselves. Nothing could have stood up before him. Within a hundred yards he ran into the fox. Realizing his fate, Old Sandy leaped into the air with a squall, and the next moment the powerful jaws of Jonah had closed on him.
By this time the rest of the hunters had come in sight. From a distance they witnessed the catch. They saw the rush that Jonah made; they saw Miss Carter and Joe Maxwell galloping forward; they saw the lad leap from his horse and bend over the fox, around which the dogs were jumping and howling; they saw him rise, with hat in hand, and present something to his fair companion; and then they knew that the young lady would ride home with Old Sandy’s brush suspended from her saddle.
These hunters came up after a while. Their horses were jaded, and the riders themselves looked unhappy.
“Did you notice which one of my dogs caught the fox?” asked the young man to whom the pack belonged.