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After J.0 minutes of a very hot pace, we pulled up on a pasture hill where we found hounds clustered around the mouth of the fox’s den. They looked like a big, shaggy chrysanthemum, with sterns all awiggle. To a soggy, breathless group of riders on their still moist mounts, the Master, JWF, blandly said, “Amazing, isn’t it, whait beavers can do to a river during one short summer?"
Further description of the three hours hunting that followed could be only anti-climacticr"however, the few that stayed along until the end with Jim-Bill, deserve mention. It took handy jumping and hard going over stout stone and rail fences, built not for horses to Jump, but to keep cattle in. Hounds kept running after those strong foxes that live on Fielding and Poor town, and these hunters stayed with them; Of course, Ollie and the whip, Billy Dodson; and Mr. and Mrs. V. Shackelford, Mrs. Randolph’s rider Kurt Rosen
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