As Previously Stated,
The Fox Depends Principally On His Scent, To Discover Danger; But His
Eye Is Also Good, And
To succeed in approaching within gun shot of him
in the open country, the gunner must watch every motion most
Carefully, moving only when the animal's gaze is averted, and stopping
instantly the moment he looks towards him, no matter what position the
sportman's may be at that time. No matter how uncomfortable he may
feel; move he dare not, foot nor limb; the eye of the fox is on him,
and the least movement would betray him and alarm his watchful quarry.
It will be easily conceived that to succesfully carry out this
programme, it requires nerves of steel and a patience a toute
epreuve. It has been the good luck of one of our friends once to
approach thus a fox, within twenty feet, without his detecting him;
needless to say, it was done moving against the wind. Some few hunters
can so exactly imitate the cry of the ground mouse, as to bring the
fox to them, especially if he is very hungry; but it is not always
that this plan succeeds. The animal's ear is keen; the slightest
defect in the imitation betrays the trap, and away canters alarmed
reynard at railroad speed. Some sportsmen prefer to watch the fox, and
wait until he falls asleep which they know he will surely do, if not
disturbed, and then they can approach him easily enough against the
wind. It is not unusual for them to get within fifteen feet of the
animal, before the noise of their footsteps causes him to wake. - As
may readily be supposed in such cases, his awakening and death are
generally simultaneous.
It is a fact worthy of note, that the fox, if undisturbed, will every
day return to the same place to sleep, and about the same hour. These
animals are not as abundant as they were a few years back.
The extent of country travelled by a fox by moonlight, each night, is
very great. Not many years ago, a Quebec hunter [258] who is in the
habit of enjoying his daily walk at peep of day, informed the writer
that on many occasions he has seen the sly wanderer, on being
disturbed from the neighborhood of the tanneries in St. Vallier
street, hieing away at a gallop towards the Lorette and Charlesbourg
mountains, a distance of nine miles each way.
CAPE ROUGE COTTAGE.
With its rear facing St. Augustin parish, eight miles from the city a
commodious dwelling graces the summit of the lofty cape or promontory,
which terminates westward the elevated plateau, on the eastern extremity
of which, Champlain, in 1608, raised the lily-spangled banner of the
Bourbons. Unquestionably the environs of Quebec are rich in scenery,
revelling one half of the year in rural loveliness, the other half
enjoying that solid comfort, which successful enterprise, taste and free
institutions communicate to whatever they touch; but no where, not even at
Spencer Wood, or Woodfield, has nature lavished such beautiful landscapes,
such enchanting views. Three centuries ago, Europeans had pitched here
their tents, until the return of spring, attracted by the charms of the
spot; three hundred years after that, a man of taste - to whom we may now
without fear, give his due, as he is where neither praise nor censure can
be suspected, - an English merchant had selected this site for its rare
attractiveness; here he resided for many summers. In 1833 he removed to
Spencer Wood. We allude to the late Henry Atkinson, who was succeeded at
the Cap Rouge Cottage by William Atkinson, Esq., merchant of London,
England. Mr. William Atkinson lived in affluence and happiness at Cap
Rouge, several years. There are yet at Quebec those who remember the kind-
heartedness and hospitality of this English gentleman of the old school.
Geo. Usborne, Esq., was the next occupant of the cottage. The estate
consisted formerly of close on one hundred acres of land, extending north
across the king's highway, with a river frontage of about twenty acres,
the lot on the south side of the road is laid out, one half in a park, the
remainder in two or three fruit and flower gardens, divided by brick walls
to trail vines and ripen fruit. It lies quite sheltered with a southerly
exposure, bounded by the lofty, perpendicular river banks; the base, some
two hundred feet below, skirted by a narrow road, washed by the waves of
the St. Lawrence. A magnificent avenue extends along the high bank under
ancient, ever-verdant pines, whose far outspreading branches, under the
influence of winds, sigh a plaintive but soothing music, blending their
soft rustle to the roar of the Etchemin or the Chaudiere rivers before
easterly gales; how well Pickering has it: -
"The overshadowing pines alone, through which I roam,
Their verdure keep, although it darker looks;
And hark! as it comes sighing through the grove,
The exhausted gale, a spirit there awakes
That wild and melancholy music makes."
From the house verandah, the eye plunges westward down the high cape,
following the capricious windings of the Cap Rouge stream far to the
north, or else scans the green uplands of St. Augustin, its white cottages
rising in soft undulations as far as the sight can reach. Over the extreme
point of the southwestern cape hangs a fairy pavilion, like an eagle's
eyrie amongst alpine crags, just a degree more secure than that pensile
old fir tree which you notice at your feet stretching over the chasm;
beneath you the majestic flood, Canada's pride, with a hundred merchantmen
sleeping on its placid waters, and the orb of day dancing blithely over
every ripple. Oh! for a few hours to roam with those we love under these
old pines, to listen to the voices of other years, and cull a fragrant
wreath of those wild flowers which everywhere strew our path.
Is there not enough of nature's charm around this sunny, truly Canadian
home?
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