They had once hunted a fox all day, without coming in sight of him.

Reynard has ways and habits of his own, which a person who has had experience in hunting him understands.

He always runs with the wind, and generally follows a ridge.

The hunters take advantage of this, and "run cross-lots" to meet him, sometimes gaining on him several miles in this manner.
The moment the hounds had disappeared on the trail, Frank--who knew all the "run-ways" of the game like a book--led the way through the woods toward a ridge that lay about a mile distant, where they expected the fox would pass.
A quarter of an hour's run brought them to this ridge, and they began to conceal themselves behind trees and bushes, when Archie suddenly exclaimed, "We're dished, boys.

The fox has already passed." "Come on, then," said Frank.