Photographer Gretchen Pelham was simply photographing a beautiful scene of huntsman Ryan Johnsey standing by the cornfield with the Smoky Mountains in the background. She had no idea she had caught a hunting drama!

Limestone, Tennessee, on the banks of the Nolichucky River (translation: “the River of Death”) under the shadow of the Smoky Mountains. It was the first staff hunt of the season. I had picked up a few puppies and our ancient hound Ariat hanging out at the trailers and put them in a section of corn that I knew was close to the pack, still searching for game. Both puppies came right back out of the corn but Ariat started boo-hooing on a line. The pack soon joined her and off they went.
About an hour later I was sitting on a hill on my horse, listening to the pack circle and roar by me again, and all I did was take a burst of photos of Ryan Johnsey, MFH, our huntsman, with the Smoky Mountains in the background. That’s it. I saw Ryan and the mountains through the lens. Nothing else.
Click image for larger version. / Joanne Maisano photo
Following the foxhounds of the Blue Ridge Hunt from their meeting at the Reid Family’s Stonebridge fixture the other day, photographer Joanne Maisano got herself in the right place at the right time. Camera in hand, watching hounds mark the stickpile, Joanne shot an action sequence that wildlife photographers dream about. Be sure to click the image for a larger version. You don’t want to miss the expressions on the faces of every living creature captured in that single moment. Not a word of text is necessary!
(Front to rear) fox, hounds, and huntsman Graham Buston
We’ve selected a series of photos from Joanne’s action-sequence to present a slide show of what transpired, and one version of what might have been running through the fox’s mind during its escape. Click on the readmore link (below, open to everyone), then click on the first image (below) in the sequence.
Photo by Lili Wykle, MFH and huntsman, Stonewall Hounds (VA) In his day, this aged celebrity, now basking in retirement, had the judges (and the female foxhounds, many of whom he knew ... intimately), swooning at the sight of him. Now weary of autograph seekers and those pesky selfie-photographers, he prefers to hang out incognito, as you see.
He was perhaps as strikingly handsome an American foxhound as this reporter has ever seen, and he passed his genes on to generations of grand champion foxhounds—both male and female—to follow.