“Hunt ’em up! hunt ’em up!” shouted Archie, excitedly, waving his hand to the dogs.

Sport bounded off on the track like a shot, and Lightfoot followed close after.  Brave barked and howled furiously, and acted as if he wished very much to accompany them; but the swift hounds would have distanced him in a moment.

It must not be supposed that it was the intention of the boys to follow up the hounds—­that would have been worse than useless.  Perhaps the chase would continue for several hours.  They had once hunted a fox all day, without coming in sight of him.  Reynard has ways and habits of his own, which a person who has had experience in hunting him understands.  He always runs with the wind, and generally follows a ridge.  The hunters take advantage of this, and “run cross-lots” to meet him, sometimes gaining on him several miles in this manner.

The moment the hounds had disappeared on the trail, Frank—­who knew all the “run-ways” of the game like a book—­led the way through the woods toward a ridge that lay about a mile distant, where they expected the fox would pass.

A quarter of an hour’s run brought them to this ridge, and they began to conceal themselves behind trees and bushes, when Archie suddenly exclaimed,

“We’re dished, boys.  The fox has already passed.”

“Come on, then,” said Frank.  “No time to lose.  We must try again.”

And he again led the way, on a keen run, through a strip of woods, across a wide meadow toward another ridge, that lay fully three miles distant.

At length the baying of the hounds echoed through the woods, far below them.  Louder and louder it grew, and, in a few moments, they swept up the ridge in full cry.  The boys hurried on as rapidly as possible, and reached the ridge in about an hour.  Although they were accustomed to such sport, they were pretty well tired out.  They had run the greater part of the way through thick woods, filled with fallen logs and tangled bushes; but they now felt confident that the hunt was nearly over.  They knew they had gained considerably on the fox, and his capture would be an ample reward for their trouble.

As soon as they reached the ridge, they threw themselves rapidly across it in all directions, and, to their delight, discovered that the fox had not yet passed.  They stationed themselves in such a manner that it would be impossible for him to pass on either side of them without coming within reach of their guns, and patiently awaited his appearance.  They had not remained long in this position, when Archie, who was stationed lowest down the ridge, exclaimed in a subdued voice,

“There they come, boys!  Now, look sharp!”

The boys listened intently, and heard, faint and far off, the well-known bay of Sport.  It was sharp and short—­very different from the note he had uttered when the chase first commenced.  Louder and louder grew the noise, as the hounds came rapidly up the ridge toward the place where the boys were stationed, and every one was on the alert, expecting every moment to see the fox break cover.