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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Where did ye kill, Steeve?" asked a dispirited voice. "We didn't kill at all: he was one of those "longshore dog-foxes, and got away home on the cliff." Stephen thumped his knee. "It's my belief the smell o' sea gives 'em extra cunning." "The beggar seems to have put ye out rether eh, Steeve?"
And a queer sense of uneasiness came creeping over him as he watched the master-player's eyes opening and shutting, opening and shutting, so that one moment he seemed to be staring and the next almost asleep; though all the while his keen, dark eyes peered out from between the lids like old dog-foxes from their holes, looking Nick over from head to foot, and from foot to head again, as if measuring him with an ellwand.
"Where did ye kill, Steeve?" asked a dispirited voice. "We didn't kill at all: he was one of those 'longshore dog-foxes, and got away home on the cliff." Stephen thumped his knee. "It's my belief the smell o' sea gives 'em extra cunning." "The beggar seems to have put ye out rether eh, Steeve?"
The vixen slipped into a badger earth under an old oak and stayed there, and a couple more dog-foxes moved on into four acres of low slop, brambles, shoots, and blackthorns, where they were winded by half the pack, while the other half were running the first fox up the fence.
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