CHAPTER XXI
FOLLOWING FOX-HOUNDS ON FOOT
By Captain L. C. R. Cameron
SAID Mr. Jorrocks in Handley Cross (Chapter XXX): “Blow me tight! but I never sees a chap trudging along the turnpike, with a thick stick in his ’and, and a pipe in his mouth, but I says to myself, there goes a man well mounted for ’arriers.” The picture may equally serve for the keen fox-hunter who from choice or of necessity elects to follow hounds on “Shanks, his mare”; at any rate when “trudging” to the meet or “trudging” home after hunting; for in the field the pipe should be in his pocket, except after a kill, perhaps.
Notwithstanding the prejudice against “foot-people” voiced by generations of fox-hunters, whose point of view was that of the “thruster” quoted by Nimrod, who gave vent to the sentiment—when galloping past a prostrate and possibly injured fellow-sportsman—“the pace was too good to enquire,” the genuine “pedestrian sportsman” has a defined and indeed valuable place in the pursuit of the fox. Even Surtees had a weak spot in his heart for the man too poor to afford a horse yet who, even in his time, was frequently to be seen at meets of fox-hounds, and who followed them day in day out from the find to as near as he could get to the finish.
There is no genuine hunting man who will not take his hat off to one who perhaps walks ten miles to a meet, follows hounds across country for five hours, and when the horn tells him that hounds are going home to kennels turns away cheerfully to “trudge” the ten or twelve or possibly fifteen miles in the deepening dusk to his own place of residence. There were, before the Great War, one or two such sportsmen in every hunting country, men very much of the Will Wimble breed, keen lovers of a country life and with a first-hand knowledge of natural phenomena, who welcomed the occasion of hounds being within reach to spend their days in the open country: exercising not only their limbs and lungs, but also their minds in acquiring an insight into hound-work and the ways of the quarry the hounds pursued: as well as in storing up information as to the habits of all sorts of birds and beasts, and even of men and women, under the influence of that excitement inseparable from the chase of the fox over a wide expanse of diversified country.
To those “foot-people” who merely attend a meet of the fox-hounds when it chances to be at their doors, and who, after the find, watch the Hunt disappear rapidly across the landscape until, in an incredibly brief space of time, not a trace remains to show that hounds have been in the district, the idea of following them with sufficient intelligence and perseverance to be “in at the death” appears almost an impossibility. That it is not so for anyone reasonably sound in wind and limb may be shown by the experience of at least one “pedestrian sportsman” who in the season 1913-1914 followed the late Duke of Beaufort’s and Lord Fitzhardinge’s hounds from his residence on their borders; and, as the diary he punctiliously kept proves, covered 2089 miles on foot with the two packs, and saw them kill between them no less than seventy-six foxes, including, of course, those accounted for during the cub-hunting portion of their season. That he accomplished this in his forty-eighth year, hunting four and five days a week, should give heart of grace to younger men of the present day; when owing to the number of motor cars on every road they may be pretty certain of a “lift” to the meet and often on their way home at night, and so conserve their energies for the actual following of hounds across country.
The aim of the naturalist-sportsman who goes fox-hunting on foot should be to see a fox well found and if possible to see him handsomely killed. The chief interest in hunting of all sorts is to observe, first, how the quarry acts in the circumstance of being hunted; and, second, how hounds work to accomplish their object of bringing that quarry to hand. The mounted sportsman employs a horse to enable him to achieve these aims; and, if he can ride, may do so even in a strange country and even if he has no knowledge of venery. The follower on foot has to depend upon his legs to carry him forward on the line of the chase, and on his senses of hearing and seeing, the exercise of his wits, his knowledge of the country he hunts in; as well as of such details of venery as the run of the foxes from the coverts drawn from any given meet, the points they are likely to make, how these may be modified by the state of the weather, the nature of the prevailing atmosphere, and the direction and strength of the wind; and, in these days, by many accidental circumstances that were formerly of rare occurrence, such as the heading of the fox by motor cars on highway and byway, and even by tractors in the open fields.
In addition a knowledge of the habits of birds and animals, both domestic and wild, is indispensable to the pedestrian sportsman if he is to keep on the line of the hunt. These will tell him, when he can no longer see or hear hounds, in what direction the chase has proceeded. With the aid of a good pair of field-glasses, in such circumstances, he may descry a flock of pigeons flying suddenly out of a wood some miles away in the direction taken by the Hunt, and may be reasonably sure that hounds have taken their fox to that point. In the same way in a hilly country he may see through the glasses crows stooping and flying in an unusual manner over some distant upland. This will tell him that they are mobbing a sinking fox; and even if it proves that he, at least, is hopelessly “out of the hunt” so far as the possibility of being in at the death is concerned, will give him a hint as to which way to go in order to hit off the hounds on their way to draw another covert.
Some hunting countries are better adapted, of course, to following hounds on foot than are others. Too large a proportion of woodland or of arable renders seeing and running up, respectively, more or less difficult. Vale countries, especially grass countries where hounds run fast and straight, are comparatively hopeless from the keen foot-sportsman’s point of view; and so also are really mountainous countries, unless he is content merely to watch hounds running along the sides of the hills or over their summits from a distance. This, however, is not really hunting on foot.
The best type of country for the keen foot-follower is one with a reasonable proportion of woodland, where the coverts are not too big; an undulating surface with some few higher eminences or low ranges of hills, whence a useful view may be occasionally obtained; and, as to cultivation, a preponderance of grass-land, although where the soil is light a larger proportion of plough is not a serious deterrent. Bad-scenting countries are, of course, more favourable than good to the sportsman on foot who wants to see hounds work; and days on which scent is variable and catchy better than those characterised by “a scent you could eat as it hangs breast high.” To the man in a position to select a country in which to live and follow hounds these hints may prove serviceable; but most sportsmen to-day are tied to the countries in which they happen to dwell, or perchance in which they earn a livelihood.
Whichever may be the case, the first thing a potential follower of fox-hounds on foot must do is to learn his country. His bump of locality must be developed, and if it is rudimentary may be easily improved by the use of maps and a pocket-compass. The best map of the country to possess is the Ordnance Survey on the one-inch scale: that in which colours are employed to denote woods, water, main roads, and contours. The sportsman should provide himself with two of the same tract of country: one mounted on linen and folding so that he may always carry it in his pocket when hunting, the other in sheet form, so that it can be affixed to the wall of his study and consulted at any time. On this second map he should mark in red ink all the regular meets of the hounds with which he intends to hunt, with their distances, by the roads and field-paths shown on the map, from his place of residence. This will enable him to judge to a nicety how long it will take him to reach any meet on foot and to decide at what hour to start in the morning. The chief fault of British Ordnance maps is their omission of names of coverts, isolated houses, and other landmarks important to fox-hunters, if not so to the generality of persons. As soon as the sportsman begins to learn his country by hunting over it he will learn also the names of what Jack Spraggon called the “bits of places that none but the country folks know,” as well as of numberless unmarked coverts. Every cottage, wood, and spinney; indeed, every field and enclosure in England has its own name; and as soon as those of the first three have been ascertained by enquiry from the owners or occupiers, or from one of their employees, who are sure to be about when hounds are out, they should be entered in red ink on the sheet map, at any rate: if possible on the pocket map as well.
There is nothing like knowing where you are when out hunting, though some riders never seem to possess this gift. I once hunted with a Midland “thruster” from a meet ten miles from his house, and when we killed late in the afternoon he had no more idea where he was than a dead dog. When I told him that we had galloped through his own paddock five minutes before and that the chimneys he could see among the trees on the adjacent hill were those of his own residence he was quite incredulous, having thought—if he thought at all—that he had at least a dozen miles to ride home. The carrying of a small pocket compass, besides being of use in finding one’s way, should one have been led into an outlying or unfamiliar country, is also of use at the meet to ascertain from which direction the wind is actually blowing. This will not only guide the huntsman in deciding upon how his first covert will be drawn, but will also affect the line taken by the fox, and consequently his point. Once the point he has determined to make is evident, the foot-follower’s chance of achieving his aim of being up at the kill is greatly enhanced: for a fox will nearly always run down the wind. Even if headed he will generally cheek the wind, or run with it blowing against his flanks, until he finds an opportunity of turning down-wind again and so of making his original point. Only in a gale which incommodes him by turning his brush over his back will a fox commonly run up the wind, unless when within a short distance of some stronghold that he confidently hopes to reach.
Beginners at the sport of following fox-hounds on foot, on appreciating how much there is to learn if they wish to enjoy it to the full, may take comfort from Beckford’s dicta: “Every country is soon known; and nine foxes out of ten, with the wind in the same quarter, will follow the same track. It is easy, therefore, … to cut short, and catch the hounds again.”
In order to follow on foot to the best advantage it is necessary to devote the first season in a new country to learning that country thoroughly: first from the map and then in the field. A hunting diary should be kept and the events of the day recorded each night while they are fresh in the memory. Records of the “Met—Found—Killed” order are practically useless. Notes should be made of—1. Place and time of meeting. 2. Weather, direction and force of the wind. 3. Number and sex of hounds brought out. 4. First covert drawn. 5. Exact time of first find. 6. Point made and distance hounds ran. 7. Duration of run. 8. Results: killed, ran to ground, or lost. The second and subsequent draws should be treated similarly and brief remarks added as to unusual incidents, changes of weather, scent, etc.
Such a record will be of use at the beginning of the next season: when the diary may be consulted before attending a meet at the same place; and the second year’s diary being kept in the same manner will provide valuable data for the third and all subsequent seasons. By the opening of the third season in the same country, however, the sportsman should be thoroughly conversant with the lie of the land and the run of its foxes, and have reduced the business of “cutting short and catching hounds again” almost to an exact science: especially if he take pains to be out on every hunting day and under all reasonable conditions of wind and weather, which is, however, neither always possible nor even advisable.
The time to begin to learn a new hunting country is during the first season’s cub-hunting. If the sportsman knows the Master or huntsman he should, even before this commences, have made some acquaintance with the hounds. If during the summer months he can visit the kennels and get to know the feeder and the whippers-in he may gradually acquire some knowledge of individual hounds, their names, appearance, and reputations in the field. This, when the season proper is in full swing, may prove of incalculable advantage, not only to himself as a guide in following on foot, but conceivably under various circumstances to the Hunt staff. For instance, if, knowing individual hounds by sight and by name, he should when the pack divides on the lines of two or more foxes, see a single hound or two or three couples pursuing a fox while the main body is hunting another he will be in a position to tell the huntsman or one of the whippers-in which hounds are they that have slipped away with the other fox. The latter can then decide on the reliability or otherwise of the hounds named and act accordingly: whereas if the sportsman is ignorant of their names the staff is in no position to judge whether they may be on the line of their original fox and the main body of the pack at fault, or not. And this is but one of many ways in which a pedestrian sportsman, once he knows his country and something of the general principles of the sport of fox-hunting, may be of such service to the Hunt that his presence will be cordially appreciated instead of being merely tolerated.
Cub-hunting means early rising, and even to-day—when the old rule that hounds should be thrown into covert so soon after dawn as it is possible to distinguish one hound from another is almost universally disregarded—it means dressing by artificial light. As a rule in large coverts the field are encouraged to enter behind hounds and to holloa the dispersed cubs across the rides and so assist hounds to get on terms with them and taste the blood of which they stand in need. Smaller coverts which contain a litter are usually surrounded by the field, both mounted and afoot, who help the huntsman to blood the young entry by tapping their saddles on the trunks of outlying trees so as to head the cubs back into covert. Different huntsmen have different ideas, and the unmounted sportsman should ascertain their wishes before taking any action of his own. But when a fox breaks he should refrain from holloaing, as “foot people” invariably do; because it is probably an old fox, or, if not, some cub more courageous than his brothers and sisters, and therefore to be saved to provide, perhaps, “the run of the season” later on.
During cubbing not only will the tyro have continual opportunities of comparing his map with the actual country hunted over, but he will learn a great deal as to the individual characters of hounds; and, especially towards the end of October, much of the habitual run of the foxes, the points they mostly make for when disturbed by hounds, their scarcity or plenitude in different localities, the position of main earths in the country; and something, too, of the scenting conditions of different coverts, soils, and tracts of open country. All these things will be of the greatest service to him when the serious business of the season opens during the first week in November.
By that time he should, so to speak, have earned his spurs in the estimation of the Master, Huntsman, and staff, as well as of that section of the regular hunting folk that does not consist of what The Field recently called “rich not-quite sportsmen”: with whom, unfortunately, in these days most Hunts are but too liberally endowed. They can usually be identified at a meet by the quantity of harness with which their mounts are garnished; and also by the frequency with which they will go out of their way unnecessarily to bespatter the follower on foot with mud and divots, in order to display their resentment that anyone not so ignobly plutocratic as themselves should presume to enjoy a sport for which they provide the funds. The landowners and farmers who provide the land and the coverts are very different folk, and are always glad to welcome a genuine sportsman, whether mounted or on foot; and this attitude, as will be shown, the latter is in an especial manner able to reciprocate. His only other enemies in the hunting field will prove to be second-horsemen, as a rule an ill-behaved lot, who, if they have noticed him in conversation at the meet or the covertside with their masters and mistresses, will often, in fear lest some of their many misdemeanours should be reported to their employers, take furtive opportunities of riding him out of the way or otherwise annoying him. Gypsies, tinkers, and town loafers who come out to follow hounds with the ulterior motive of pocketing a rabbit in the roots or a hare in her form also look askance at the pedestrian sportsman, whose presence restricts their poaching proclivities.
The wise foot-follower of fox-hounds will do well to be at the meet a few minutes before the hour fixed. This will enable him to look over the pack and note what hounds are out, and to have a word with the huntsman and find out in confidence what the draw is to be. Usually the covert in the stop farthest from kennels is drawn first, so that as the day progresses, if it be necessary to draw twice or thrice, hounds are always moving towards home. If, therefore, the sportsman has any choice as to his residence one near the kennels should be chosen for preference; and as many other members of the Hunt are actuated by the same considerations, he will, when the meet is at a greater distance than usual, or on the outskirts of the country, stand the chance of a lift there, perhaps on the hound-van or in a private motor car.
Having ascertained which covert will be drawn first, if it is, as it should be, at some little distance from the meet, so as to avoid its premature disturbance by the noise inevitably occasioned by the arrival of motor cars, motor horse-boxes, and other modern adjuncts to fox-hunting, in addition to the more legitimate rattle of bits, the laughter and chatter incidental to “coffee-housing,” and the rating of hounds by the whippers-in: he will note the direction of the wind and move on quietly and unobtrusively to a convenient point from which, without danger of heading him, he may hope to see the fox break. If the covert be a large one it will be drawn upwind, or if very large possibly across the wind. Only small coverts are customarily drawn down-wind.
The sportsman should go to his post alone, or if accompanied by anyone should avoid speaking even a word; as nothing is so likely to move a fox as the unexpected sound of the human voice, which in the country carries an incredible distance. If he has chosen his vantage-ground well, the first notification of the arrival of the hounds at the covertside will be the appearance close by of the first whipper-in. The next, if the huntsman be one of the quiet sort who puts hounds into covert without cheering them or blowing a note on the horn, will be the pattering sound of hounds’ feet on the dead leaves. Then, perhaps, a doubtful whimper will show that the game has been afoot earlier in the morning, and this, calling more experienced hounds to the spot, may result in a definite challenge.
It is now a moment when three of the five senses cannot be too alert. The eyes must be turned in all likely directions to catch a glimpse of the lithe red-brown figure slipping through the undergrowth or crossing a ride. The ears must be alive to the cry of hounds, whose various voices the sportsman should be able to recognise and give a name to, as well as to the calling or scolding of jays, magpies, and even blackbirds, which, having caught a near view of the quarry, will promptly announce the fact to the initiated. Even the nose of the man, who like the late Duke of Beaufort, can “wind” a fox in certain states of the atmosphere at any rate, should be brought to bear; especially when a fox, momentarily too hard pressed to break, allows hounds to over-run his scent and deliberately lies down behind them. This may also very easily occur in a covert to which a beaten fox has run, only to find the earths put-to. A fox will often do so as close to a man on foot or even to a whipper-in’s horse as he dare, knowing that hounds will run wide of either. A decided whiff of fox at this moment, with hounds silent, is a signal to look out even more keenly. Probably in a second or two, if the fox do not break in full sight, the whipper-in at the corner will lift his cap and the foot-follower will know before he hears the cry of “Gone away!” that the quarry has left.
All now will be noise, hurry, and, on the part of the field at least, confusion. He should stand still or at the most move quietly forward until the huntsman has got the pack out of covert and laid on the line. He may then push along till he can see the direction in which they are heading, decide what point the fox intends to make, and judge by the cry and pace of hounds whether the scent is good, bad, or indifferent. If the former, over a grass country, and to a far point in the opposite direction to kennels; and if the fox has a long start and is crossing a country wherein there are no main roads nor any tractors at work whereby he may be headed or turned from his course: he may decide that it would be a hopeless task to try and follow, since long before he could get to the kill hounds would be half-way back to their second draw. His best plan in such an event will be to watch operations. through his field-glasses, and when the Hunt has vanished into thin air some six miles away, to eat his sandwiches, carefully close any gates in the vicinity that may have been left open or replace a pole in a gap, and wait till his senses tell him that the Hunt is returning to the coverts in the stop.
If, however, he has noticed that scent is catchy, the fox not far in front, and perhaps inclined to linger as though not quite sure of his point, or that hounds are dwelling; and if he knows, moreover, that a mile or so away runs a highway along which moves a continuous procession of motor vehicles so that the quarry is most likely to be headed and turned from whatever point he may try to make, then the foot-follower’s heart should rejoice, for he can see the chance of a run and the prospect of being in at the death. He should start as close behind the pack as he can, but well wide of it on the side towards which the wind is blowing. The fox will be going down the wind, but not directly so, like a yacht running free; and the runner should keep on the side that is farther to lee-ward. Then, should hounds suddenly increase their pace and the fox turn right-handed, he will still hear hounds, even if they are out of sight; while if the fox bend towards him he will be able to cut short and catch them, and with a modicum of luck in the shape of a brief check be near enough to see them kill or run to ground.
Present-day foxes undoubtedly favour the foot-follower. The straight-necked ones of last century are become almost legendary. It is but few times in a season that any pack, nowadays, runs clean out of sight and hearing. There are many more ringing foxes than formerly, which is probably due to the fact that there are many more foxes; and that the territory of each pair is more circumscribed, so that they are unfamiliar with the larger extent of country their progenitors roamed unchecked. Their estates, so to speak, are curtailed, for most wild animals are very loth to trespass on the hunting grounds of their neighbours. The weasel tribe are inveterate wanderers, but most other birds and beasts, free, from the human point of view, to voyage the length and breadth of the land, actually travel very short distances from home. The hare rarely visits more than half a dozen adjacent fields in a lifetime, and the rabbit is an even more consistent stay-at-home. There are resident birds who never leave the orchard or the stack-yard the year through, although free to fly to China or Peru, in a manner of speaking. Except about Christmas time and after, when the occasional travelling fox is encountered by hounds, foxes are much the same; and however far they may be driven out of their country, even twenty miles or more, if they save their brushes are generally back in their own coverts by the following night.
All this is in favour of the pedestrian sportsman who, if all foxes found made twelve-mile points in little over an hour, would see precious little sport. As it is, a competent sportsman, who follows by a mixed method of walking and running—the latter over grass and on declined planes, the former over deep ploughs and sticky fallows and up steep inclines—will, if hounds only make a three-mile point after running, say, seven in something under an hour, be easily able to see the kill. There are not too many even three-mile points made nowadays with fox-hounds; and in most countries where hounds account for a leash in a day the foot-followers should see a brace killed or put to ground on most days.
The ways in which a knowledgeable follower of hounds on foot may be of assistance to the Hunt are numerous. He may see when no one else can a cur-dog course the fox, and coming up at the inevitable check tell the huntsman where the quarry went after the incident. Especially when a fox turns back unseen by any of the field will his “view-holloa,” or, better still, uplifted cap, be welcome when the hounds have checked; but certainty that it is the hunted fox he has viewed and not a fresh one disturbed in some adjacent hedgerow is essential in such a contingency. In all cases when he proffers assistance to the huntsman diffidence should dictate that he should get as close as possible to the spot where he actually saw the fox before signalling, being meanwhile careful not to cross its line.
At a kill he may be useful in holding the terriers or even the huntsman’s horse upon occasion; and, when hounds mark to ground, in fetching a spade if the fox is to be dug, and in doing a spell of digging. I remember once seeing hounds find close to a village an ashpit-haunting fox who was hunted for a few minutes only through all the back gardens of the place in which he had been accustomed to make his nightly rounds, and who finally plunged into a flooded brook to be seized by the leading hounds in the water. The huntsman, spick-and-span in the sunshine, looked profoundly reluctant to get down and save his fox—he was rather of the Richard Bragge order of huntsmen—so, being used to otter-hunting, I snatched his crop, plunged into the stream, and retrieved the “demned moist unpleasant body” of the quarry. I had hunted a long time with this particular pack and most of the hounds knew me, so it was not really as risky a proceeding as it looked.
The Maps are of actual hunting countries and intended to show (by the dotted lines) the line taken by the fox, and (by the broken lines) that to be taken by the Follower on Foot with the object of being up at a kill. The direction and force of the wind are shown by the arrows pointing in the direction towards which it is blowing. The initials denote: M—Meet, F—Find, H—Headed, K—Killed, G—Gone to Ground, FF—Foot Follower’s post when a covert is being drawn.
In addition to being able occasionally to help the huntsman, one can often assist the second whipper-in with information as to stray hounds of which he may be in search, or which he may not yet know are missing, especially if one know the names of the hounds seen. If, when the Hunt has gone forrard, some lost hound casts up undecided how to follow his comrades it is the foot-follower’s duty to cheer him on the line they have taken.
Other ways of helping in the promotion of the day’s sport are by checking the foot-people and yokels who will holloa any and every fox they see regardless of whether hounds are hunting or not; and of picking up any rabbit-snares that may have been carelessly left set on hunting days and putting them where they cannot injure hounds or terriers.
On his way home the pedestrian sportsman will usually find opportunities of helping the Hunt and its supporters by closing gates, making-up a bad gap in a fence, and if he should find horses or cattle straying on the roads by turning them into the nearest pasture and there securing them for the night; in this way benefiting the farmer, his stock, and the public generally. If he knows his country as he should, he will often be able to direct a stranger to the Hunt on his homeward way, and may even pick up a lost hound that is lame or otherwise unlikely to reach kennels unassisted, lead it to some farm or wayside inn, leaving it there and sending the Master a telegram to say where it has been left. In the absence of a dog-lead, always a useful thing to carry hunting, one’s handkerchief adapted as a collar for the hound’s neck will generally induce him or her to lead docilely enough.
With regard to the foot-follower’s kit, stout shoes, with, in arable countries, spats or gaiters as a protection against stones or bits of hard soil getting into the soles; a rough tweed suit, consisting of a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers or semi-riding breeches (not “plus-fours”); and a cap with a good peak; worn with thick woollen stockings, a flannel shirt, a hunting-stock, and a knitted yellow Shetland hunting waistcoat with sleeves, that can be flung open when warm and buttoned close when the chill of evening sets in, is the most workmanlike outfit. On wet days a light, not too long, rainproof may be worn, and a pair of woollen gloves carried in the pocket for use on the homeward road on cold days.
Field-glasses for this sport should be of the old-fashioned type—not prismatics—with large object glasses having a wide field of vision and clear definition, rather than great magnifying power. A small flask may be carried containing an emergency ration of whiskey. It often helps one to face a long walk home in the dark after a hard day, though I have as often brought mine home untouched as not after following fox-hounds on foot. The map, compass, watch, some money in case of accidents, a dog-lead, and a good knife, are about all the accessories required, except a stout ash walking stick with a crook handle.
Everyone must please himself in the matter of the food he takes hunting. I have always found bread and Cheddar cheese the most sustaining food: but, of course, one may take sandwiches of all sorts. If the sportsman stops for tea on the way home he should beware of sitting long over it, especially if he has far to walk; otherwise stiffness will set in if he has run much during the day, and he will find travelling painful when he resumes his walk. As for drinking, it is best to accustom oneself to do without anything between the find and the finish. A cherry brandy or a sloe gin at the meet and, if the day has been an exhausting one, a pint of ale or even a whiskey and soda at the first inn on the way home, will do no harm; but Surtees’ dictum that “hunting and drinking are two men’s work” applies especially to the unmounted sportsman.
A final word of advice to the whole-hearted foot-follower. Beckford wrote: “Take not your hounds out on a very windy or bad day,” advice which modern Masters of Hounds might honour more in the observance than they do, despite Mr. Jorrocks’s experience on “the World turned upside-down day.” Under such conditions the wise sportsman will elect to “lie at earth,” and even if he learn later, which is improbable, that hounds despite the weather ran well and killed their fox, he can comfort himself with Beckford’s reflection that “if the fox,” [or the Master,] “was a fool, he could not help it.”
