Finding Trimbush getting warm upon the subject, I thought it better not to provoke the discussion further, and made no reply. The old hound, however, continued to abuse mankind in general, for some minutes, for entertaining such a low estimate of our motives in the chase, and wound up his observations by saying, “It’s not to be wondered at; for true sportsmen are born, like poets--chaps with as much music in their souls as we have in our tongues--now and then; but fools come into the world every second.” CHAPTER X. “For with a sigh, a blast of all his breath, That viewless thing, called life, did from him steal.” We were trotting leisurely to cover, one morning, when I remarked that Trimbush was more serious and silent than usual. “What are you thinking about?” said I. “We’ve got our work cut out to-day,” replied he, “and I was just turning a few matters over in my brain, to untie some of the knots and difficulties which always beset us when we draw Berry brake.” “Is that our first draw?” said I. “Yes,” returned my companion, “and a sure find. For the last four seasons we have challenged the same fox, and, as he lives, I need not say that he has, hitherto, beaten us.” “But how?” I asked. “He must be something extraordinary to beat ye four whole seasons.” “He is,” added Trimbush: “but he must be more than _that_, even to live till sun-down to-day.” “Tell me all about him,” said I, “and what your plans are; for I see your mind is made up for mischief.” “Why, in the first place, then, I should tell you,” replied my friend, “that Berry brake is the strongest cover I ever was in. It cuts our chests and sterns, and makes our heads swell terribly, to get through at any pace. The scent, too, is very good in it, and from having given Old Charley some good dusting, he will not hang a moment now. This, in so far as the strength of the cover is concerned, is all the better for us; but he is so wary that he bolts at the slightest noise, and has taken to his pads long before Tom has been even able to occupy his station at the upper part of the cover. Whatever his tactics may be, however, he invariably breaks away fresh, and with a good start, and being as strong a fox as ever stood before hounds, he has managed to outrun and beat us up to this time.” “Is he a big one?” I inquired. “I have viewed many a one in my day,” replied Trimbush; “but never did I put eyes upon such a wolf-like looking animal. He’s as black as thunder, and as long as a rope-walk. You can’t mistake the devil’s own, as Will Sykes christened him, if you chance to view him; but we have not done so for the last six times of hunting him.” “View or no view,” rejoined I, “we’ll stick to him.” “For a month, if we can but hunt, yard by yard, inch by inch,” said the old hound, with fixed determination expressed in his proudly erected head and lashing stern. “You’ve got some manœuvre or artful dodge in store for him, I know,” I remarked.