About him were riders of every description; smart vehicles filled with bright-faced women, the farmer in top-boots astride his nag, the Englishman from his fancy stock farm in the country hard by on his bobtailed horse and wearing the toggery of his irreproachable hunting outfit, women in jackets or long skirts on skittish-looking steeds, and women in tailor-made habits exact in set and fit, with stiff derbies on their smooth hair and heavy crops in their hands.
The hounds were all prisoned at last. The men who had dismounted hurried to their horses. Those who had not, settled themselves in their saddles. In the tense silence all the sounds of the morning could be heard, the deep breathings of the horses, the creakings of the saddles, even the wind stealing through the grasses and singing in the trees of the forest across the way and the gurgling of the stream about the rocks in its bed.
Mr. Payne got nimbly out of his buggy, holding a big bag of burlap, with a squirming something inside. He walked to the middle of the cleared space and laid the tied bag down carefully, the mouth turned to the hillside. He bent over the cords. There was a sharp, triumphant bark.
"Good Lord!" he groaned as he snatched up the bag, tossed it over his shoulders and ran for his buggy.
Music and Sal had nosed wildly around in the stable until they had found a loose board, had broken cover, and were baying their triumph to the countryside, a dozen venturers at their heels. The boy who guarded the door was pressing the board against the other prisoners and calling loudly for help.
"Oh!" groaned Frances, "they've got it all to go over again!" and she settled back in the trap in comic despair.
Lawson by this time was growing impatient. He was used to seeing things differently managed. He was concluding secretly that this boasted Virginia fox-hunting was somewhat overrated. Music and Sal still bayed upon the hillside.
Mr. Payne, bag in hand came up to the trap. "Want to see him," he whispered.
"He's a beauty!" He unfastened the bag carefully and peering down into it she saw first a red fluffy curl and then two big jewel-bright eyes, looking pathetically scared.
"A red fox!" cried Mr. Payne enthusiastically, "a genuine red fox!"