It was an old fox, and they knew each other, for they had often come across each other here and there.

Now then, let him show his enemy what he was made of.
Again the fox practised his old wiles, darting aside, crouching down, gnashing his teeth: all in vain--he had now to do with a practised foe.
If only Squire John could now have seen it all! Ask an enthusiastic fox-hunter how much he would have given for such a sight?
And now the fox stopped short again in mid career, and crouched down; but Matyi did not leap over him as the flighty Armida had done, but, as the fox turned towards him with gnashing teeth, he snapped suddenly at him from the opposite side like lightning, and in that instant all that one could see was the fox turning a somersault in the air.

Matyi, seizing him by the neck had, in fact, tossed him up, and scarcely had he reached the ground again when he was seized again by the skin of his back, well shaken, and then released.

Let him run a little bit longer, if he likes! "Bravo, Matyi! bravo!" shouted everybody present.
This exclamation encouraged Matyi to show the spectators fresh specimens of his skill.

By a series of masterly manoeuvres he turned the fox back towards the hunters, in order that they might the better see him mount head over heels into the air again.