note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 14814-h.htm or 14814-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/4/8/1/14814/14814-h/14814-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/4/8/1/14814/14814-h.zip) the tale of jemima puddle-duck by beatrix potter author of "the tale of peter rabbit," &c frederick warne & co., inc. new york 1908 [illustration] [illustration] a farmyard tale for ralph and betsy [illustration] what a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen! --listen to the story of jemima puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs. [illustration] her sister-in-law, mrs. rebeccah puddle-duck, was perfectly willing to leave the hatching to some one else--"i have not the patience to sit on a nest for twenty-eight days; and no more have you, jemima. you would let them go cold; you know you would!" "i wish to hatch my own eggs; i will hatch them all by myself," quacked jemima puddle-duck. [illustration] she tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off. jemima puddle-duck became quite desperate. she determined to make a nest right away from the farm. [illustration] she set off on a fine spring afternoon along the cart-road that leads over the hill. she was wearing a shawl and a poke bonnet. [illustration] when she reached the top of the hill, she saw a wood in the distance. she thought that it looked a safe quiet spot. [illustration] jemima puddle-duck was not much in the habit of flying. she ran downhill a few yards flapping her shawl, and then she jumped off into the air. [illustration] she flew beautifully when she had got a good start. she skimmed along over the tree-tops until she saw an open place in the middle of the wood, where the trees and brushwood had been cleared. [illustration] jemima alighted rather heavily, and began to waddle about in search of a convenient dry nesting-place. she rather fancied a tree-stump amongst some tall fox-gloves. but--seated upon the stump, she was startled to find an elegantly dressed gentleman reading a newspaper. he had black prick ears and sandy coloured whiskers. "quack?" said jemima puddle-duck, with her head and her bonnet on one side--"quack?" [illustration] the gentleman raised his eyes above his newspaper and looked curiously at jemima-"madam, have you lost your way?" said he. he had a long bushy tail which he was sitting upon, as the stump was somewhat damp. jemima thought him mighty civil and handsome. she explained that she had not lost her way, but that she was trying to find a convenient dry nesting-place. [illustration] "ah! is that so? indeed!" said the gentleman with sandy whiskers, looking curiously at jemima. he folded up the newspaper, and put it in his coat-tail pocket. jemima complained of the superfluous hen. "indeed! how interesting! i wish i could meet with that fowl. i would teach it to mind its own business!" [illustration] "but as to a nest--there is no difficulty: i have a sackful of feathers in my wood-shed. no, my dear madam, you will be in nobody's way. you may sit there as long as you like," said the bushy long-tailed gentleman. he led the way to a very retired, dismal-looking house amongst the fox-gloves. it was built of faggots and turf, and there were two broken pails, one on top of another, by way of a chimney. [illustration] "this is my summer residence; you would not find my earth--my winter house--so convenient," said the hospitable gentleman. there was a tumble-down shed at the back of the house, made of old soap-boxes. the gentleman opened the door, and showed jemima in. [illustration] the shed was almost quite full of feathers--it was almost suffocating; but it was comfortable and very soft. jemima puddle-duck was rather surprised to find such a vast quantity of feathers. but it was very comfortable; and she made a nest without any trouble at all. [illustration] when she came out, the sandy whiskered gentleman was sitting on a log reading the newspaper--at least he had it spread out, but he was looking over the top of it. he was so polite, that he seemed almost sorry to let jemima go home for the night. he promised to take great care of her nest until she came back again next day. he said he loved eggs and ducklings; he should be proud to see a fine nestful in his wood-shed. [illustration] jemima puddle-duck came every afternoon; she laid nine eggs in the nest. they were greeny white and very large. the foxy gentleman admired them immensely. he used to turn them over and count them when jemima was not there. at last jemima told him that she intended to begin to sit next day--"and i will bring a bag of corn with me, so that i need never leave my nest until the eggs are hatched. they might catch cold," said the conscientious jemima. [illustration] "madam, i beg you not to trouble yourself with a bag; i will provide oats. but before you commence your tedious sitting, i intend to give you a treat. let us have a dinner-party all to ourselves! "may i ask you to bring up some herbs from the farm-garden to make a savoury omelette? sage and thyme, and mint and two onions, and some parsley. i will provide lard for the stuff--lard for the omelette," said the hospitable gentleman with sandy whiskers. [illustration] jemima puddle-duck was a simpleton: not even the mention of sage and onions made her suspicious. she went round the farm-garden, nibbling off snippets of all the different sorts of herbs that are used for stuffing roast duck. [illustration] and she waddled into the kitchen, and got two onions out of a basket. the collie-dog kep met her coming out, "what are you doing with those onions? where do you go every afternoon by yourself, jemima puddle-duck?" jemima was rather in awe of the collie; she told him the whole story. the collie listened, with his wise head on one side; he grinned when she described the polite gentleman with sandy whiskers. [illustration] he asked several questions about the wood, and about the exact position of the house and shed. then he went out, and trotted down the village. he went to look for two fox-hound puppies who were out at walk with the butcher. [illustration] jemima puddle-duck went up the cart-road for the last time, on a sunny afternoon. she was rather burdened with bunches of herbs and two onions in a bag. she flew over the wood, and alighted opposite the house of the bushy long-tailed gentleman. [illustration] he was sitting on a log; he sniffed the air, and kept glancing uneasily round the wood. when jemima alighted he quite jumped. "come into the house as soon as you have looked at your eggs. give me the herbs for the omelette. be sharp!" he was rather abrupt. jemima puddle-duck had never heard him speak like that. she felt surprised, and uncomfortable. [illustration] while she was inside she heard pattering feet round the back of the shed. some one with a black nose sniffed at the bottom of the door, and then locked it. jemima became much alarmed. [illustration] a moment afterwards there were most awful noises--barking, baying, growls and howls, squealing and groans. and nothing more was ever seen of that foxy-whiskered gentleman. presently kep opened the door of the shed, and let out jemima puddle-duck. [illustration] unfortunately the puppies rushed in and gobbled up all the eggs before he could stop them. he had a bite on his ear and both the puppies were limping. [illustration] jemima puddle-duck was escorted home in tears on account of those eggs. [illustration] she laid some more in june, and she was permitted to keep them herself: but only four of them hatched. jemima puddle-duck said that it was because of her nerves; but she had always been a bad sitter. http://www.archive.org/details/foxgeesewonderfu00weiriala the fox and the geese; and the wonderful history of henny-penny. [illustration] with illustrations by harrison weir. portland: published by francis blake, no. 58 exchange street. the fox and the geese. there was once a goose at the point of death, so she called her three daughters near, and desired them all, with her latest breath, her last dying words to hear. "there's a mr. fox," said she, "that i know, who lives in a covert hard by; to our race he has proved a deadly foe, so beware of his treachery. "build houses, ere long, of stone or of bricks, and get tiles for your roofs, i pray; for i know, of old, mr. reynard's tricks, and i fear he may come any day." thus saying, she died, and her daughters fair,- gobble, goosey, and ganderee,- agreed together, that they would beware of mr. fox, their enemy. but gobble, the youngest, i grieve to say, soon came to a very bad end, because she preferred her own silly way, and would not to her mother attend. for she made, with some boards, an open nest, for a roof took the lid of a box; then quietly laid herself down to rest, and thought she was safe from the fox. but reynard, in taking an evening run, soon scented the goose near the pond; thought he, "now i'll have some supper and fun, for of both i am really fond." [illustration] then on to the box he sprang in a trice, and roused mrs. gobble from bed; she only had time to hiss once or twice, ere he snapped off her lily-white head. her sisters at home felt anxious and low when poor gobble did not appear, and goosey, determined her fate to know, went and sought all the field far and near. at last she descried poor gobble's head, and some feathers, not far apart; so she told ganderee she had found her dead, and they both felt quite sad at heart. now goosey was pretty, but liked her own way, like gobble, and some other birds. "'tis no matter," said she, "if i only obey a part of my mother's last words." [illustration] so her house she soon built of nice red brick, but she only thatched it with straw; and she thought that, however the fox might kick, he could not get in e'en a paw. so she went to sleep, and at dead of night she heard at the door a low scratch; and presently reynard, with all his might, attempted to jump on the thatch. but he tumbled back, and against the wall grazed his nose in a fearful way; then, almost mad with the pain of his fall, he barked, and ran slowly away. so goosey laughed, and felt quite o'erjoyed to have thus escaped from all harm; but had she known how the fox was employed, she would have felt dreadful alarm; for gobble had been his last dainty meat,- so hungry he really did feel,- and resolved in his mind to accomplish this feat, and have the young goose for a meal. so he slyly lighted a bundle of straws, and made no more noise than a mouse, then lifted himself up on his hind paws, and quickly set fire to the house. 't was soon in a blaze, and goosey awoke, with fright almost ready to die, and, nearly smothered with heat and with smoke, up the chimney was forced to fly. the fox was rejoiced to witness her flight, and, heedless of all her sad groans, he chased her until he saw her alight, then eat her up all but her bones. poor ganderee's heart was ready to break when the sad news reached her ear. "'t was that villain the fox," said good mr. drake, who lived in a pond very near. "now listen to me, i pray you," he said, "and roof your new house with some tiles, or you, like your sisters, will soon be dead,- a prey to your enemy's wiles." so she took the advice of her mother and friend, and made her house very secure. then she said,--"now, whatever may be my end, the fox cannot catch me, i'm sure." he called at her door the very next day, and loudly and long did he knock; but she said to him,--"leave my house, i pray, for the door i will not unlock; [illustration] "for you've killed my sisters, i know full well, and you wish that i too were dead." "o dear!" said the fox, "i can't really tell who put such a thought in your head: "for i've always liked geese more than other birds, and you of your race i've loved best." but the goose ne'er heeded his flattering words, so hungry he went to his rest. next week she beheld him again appear; "let me in very quick," he cried, "for the news i've to tell you'll be charmed to hear, and 'tis rude to keep me outside." but the goose only opened one window-pane, and popped out her pretty red bill; said she, "your fair words are all in vain, but talk to me here, if you will." "to-morrow," he cried, "there will be a fair, all the birds and the beasts will go; so allow me, i pray, to escort you there, for you will be quite charmed, i know." "many thanks for your news," said ganderee, "but i had rather not go with you; i care not for any gay sight to see,"- so the window she closed, and withdrew. in the morning, howe'er, her mind she changed, and she thought she would go to the fair; so her numerous feathers she nicely arranged, and cleaned her red bill with much care. she went, i believe, before it was light, for of reynard she felt much fear; so quickly she thought she would see each sight, and return ere he should appear. when the goose arrived she began to laugh at the wondrous creatures she saw; there were dancing bears, and a tall giraffe, and a beautiful red macaw. a monkey was weighing out apples and roots; an ostrich, too, sold by retail; there were bees and butterflies tasting the fruits, and a pig drinking out of a pail. ganderee went into an elephant's shop, and quickly she bought a new churn; for, as it grew late, she feared to stop, as in safety she wished to return. ere, however, she got about half the way, she saw approaching her foe; and now she hissed with fear and dismay, for she knew not which way to go. [illustration] but at last of a capital plan she bethought, of a place where she safely might hide; she got into the churn that she just had bought, and then fastened the lid inside. the churn was placed on the brow of a hill, and with ganderee's weight down it rolled, passing the fox, who stood perfectly still, quite alarmed, though he was very bold. for the goose's wings flapped strangely about, and the noise was fearful to hear; and so bruised she felt she was glad to get out, when she thought that the coast was clear. so safely she reached her own home at noon, and the fox ne'er saw her that day but after the fair he came very soon, and cried out, in a terrible way,-[illustration] "quick, quick, let me in! oh, for once be kind, for the huntsman's horn i hear; o, hide me in any snug place you can find, for the hunters and hounds draw near!" so the goose looked out, in order to see whether reynard was only in jest; then, knowing that he in her power would be, she opened the door to her guest. "i'll hide you," she said, "in my nice new churn." "that will do very well," said he; "and thank you for doing me this good turn, most friendly and kind ganderee." then into the churn the fox quickly got; but, ere the goose put on the top, a kettle she brought of water quite hot, and poured in every drop. [illustration] then the fox cried out, "o! i burn, i burn! and i feel in a pitiful plight;" but the goose held fast the lid of the churn, so reynard he died that night. * * * * * moral. mankind have an enemy whom they well know, who tempts them in every way; but they, too, at length shall o'ercome this foe, if wisdom's right law they obey. the wonderful history of henny-penny. one fine summer morning a hen was picking peas in a farm-yard, under a pea-stack, when a pea fell on her head with such a thump that she thought a cloud had fallen. and she thought she would go to the court and tell the king that the clouds were falling: so she gaed, and she gaed, and she gaed, and she met a cock, and the cock said,-"where are you going to-day, henny-penny?" and she said,-"oh, cocky-locky, the clouds are falling, and i am going to tell the king." and cocky-locky said,-"i will go with you, henny-penny." so cocky-locky and henny-penny they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met a duck. so the duck said,-"where are you going to-day, cocky-locky and henny-penny?" and they said,-"oh, ducky-daddles, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell the king." and ducky-daddles said,-"i will go with you, cocky-locky and henny-penny." so ducky-daddles, and cocky-locky, and henny-penny, they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met a goose. so the goose said,-"where are you going to-day, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky and henny-penny?" and they said,-"oh, goosie-poosie, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell the king." and goosie-poosie said,-"i will go with you, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky, and henny-penny." so goosie-poosie, and ducky-daddles, and cocky-locky, and henny-penny, they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met a turkey. so the turkey said,-"where are you going to-day, goosie-poosie, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky, and henny-penny?" and they said,-"oh, turkey-lurky, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell the king." and turkey-lurky said,-"i will go with you, goosie-poosie, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky, and henny-penny." so turkey-lurky, and goosie-poosie, and ducky-daddles, and cocky-locky, and henny-penny, they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met a fox. so the fox said,-[illustration] "where are you going to-day, turkey-lurky, goosie-poosie, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky, and henny-penny?" and they said,-"oh, mr. fox, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell the king." and the fox said,-"come with me, turkey-lurky, goosie-poosie, ducky-daddles, cocky-locky, and henny-penny, and i will show you the road to the king's house." so they all gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they came to the fox's hole; and the fox took them all into his hole, and he and his young cubs eat up first poor henny-penny, then poor cocky-locky, then poor ducky-daddles, then poor goosie-poosie, and then poor turkey-lurky; and so they never got to the king to tell him that the clouds had fallen on the head of poor henny-penny. * * * * * books published by francis blake, (late "blake & carter.") no. 58 exchange street, portland, me. town's first reader, town's second reader, town's third reader, town's grammar school reader, town's fourth reader, town's speller and definer, town's analysis, weld's old grammar, weld's new grammar, weld's parsing books, weld's latin lessons, smyth's elementary algebra, smyth's elements of algebra, key to each of smyth's algebras, smyth's trigonometry & survey'g, smyth's calculus, maine justice of the peace, maine townsman, caldwell's elocution, school testaments, 18mo. school testaments, 32mo. mechanic's own book. and many other school and miscellaneous books. * * * * * also the fox and the geese, 9 illustrations, price 8 cts. the story of the three bears, 6 illustrations, price 6 cts. the cat and the mouse, 6 illustrations, price 6 cts. the above in colored engravings at double price. f. b. also manufactures blank books of every description paged and unpaged, memorandum books, quarto blanks, &c., &c. paper hangings, wholesale & retail. a large assortment of miscellaneous books, suitable for towns or private libraries. agents, canvassers and booksellers supplied at a liberal discount from retail prices. all orders will receive prompt attention. francis blake, no. 58 exchange street, portland, me. next door to bank of cumberland _the greenwood series_ doctor rabbit and brushtail the fox by thomas clark hinkle illustrations by milo winter rand mcnally & company chicago--new york ---------------------------------------------------------------------contents brushtail the fox comes to the big green woods 7 chatty red squirrel is heard scolding loudly 12 brushtail the fox plays "possum" 17 brushtail gets a scare 22 doctor rabbit sees something interesting 27 two hunters come to the big green woods 33 doctor rabbit informs his friends 37 what doctor rabbit saw 41 mrs. brushtail gets a hen 46 brushtail the fox finds some pieces of cheese 51 the growlers come out of the thicket 57 jack rabbit sprains his foot 62 doctoring little thomas woodchuck 68 listening to the brushtails 74 doctor rabbit tells some good news 79 a foolish old hen 82 doctor rabbit lays a trap 86 brushtail the fox is almost caught 92 an exciting chase 100 the big gray goose gets away 105 brushtail the fox finds the traps 110 getting together 114 brushtail the fox discovers the cow's head 119 what happened to brushtail the fox 123 illustrations my! how he did jump and yell! 24 brushtail the fox seized her by the neck 80 it was a queer procession! 112 ---------------------------------------------------------------------doctor rabbit and brushtail the fox brushtail the fox comes to the big green woods doctor rabbit and cheepy chipmunk were sitting in doctor rabbit's front yard talking. they laughed a good deal as they talked, for it was a lovely morning in the beautiful big green woods, and everyone felt happy. finally jolly doctor rabbit said he believed he would run over to the big sycamore tree to eat some more of the tender blue grass that grew there. it seemed as if he could eat there all day and all night, he said, because that grass was so good. cheepy chipmunk said he was getting hungry again too, and he guessed he would be going home to eat the fresh ear of corn he had found that morning. cheepy chipmunk got up and was starting away, when doctor rabbit seized him and said in a low, frightened whisper that scared cheepy half to death, "come back and sit down and keep as still as anything. look out there, will you!" very badly startled, cheepy chipmunk came back and sat down, and his eyes followed doctor rabbit's eyes. cheepy saw an animal such as he had never seen before. this animal looked somewhat like a dog, but cheepy knew right away he was no dog. he was not quite so large as ki-yi coyote, and was of a reddish-brown color, with a large, bushy tail. the animal was walking along under the trees not far away, and did not even look in the direction of doctor rabbit and little cheepy chipmunk. but, although he could not tell why, cheepy knew at once that that reddish-brown animal walking along out there under the trees was very dangerous to chipmunks and rabbits and any number of other little animals. yes, sir, cheepy chipmunk was dreadfully frightened at once, for he was certain his life and the lives of stubby woodchuck, chatty red squirrel and all his other friends were in great danger. but he had never seen such an animal before, so of course he did not know what it was. while doctor rabbit and cheepy chipmunk looked, the strange animal walked along just as if he were not interested in anything. he did not even look toward doctor rabbit and cheepy chipmunk. this fooled innocent cheepy, and he whispered to doctor rabbit, "he has not seen us; let's slip into your house! i don't want him to catch sight of us." "keep right still!" doctor rabbit whispered in reply. "just sit still. yes, he has seen us--don't you fool yourself about that. but he knows well enough he can't catch us now. he's made up his mind he'll wait until he gets a better chance. but we won't let him know we see him. we'll have to try to deceive him at every turn. yes, sir, cheepy, we've got to watch out every minute now; we certainly have. he's one of the most cunning animals there is. i'm sorry he's come into our woods." cheepy chipmunk was so frightened that his teeth were chattering as he asked, "who is he?" "he's brushtail the fox," doctor rabbit said. "i saw him a number of times in the woods up along the deep river where i used to live. we'll see more of him--we can count on that. and now, friend cheepy, you must stay right here at my house until we are sure brushtail has stopped watching us out of the corner of his eye." chatty red squirrel is heard scolding loudly doctor rabbit was right. brushtail the fox had seen exactly who was in doctor rabbit's front yard, but he did not act as if he knew there was any one within a mile of him. no, he just kept right on walking slowly under the trees. and then all of a sudden chatty red squirrel almost made him look up. chatty was high up in a big hackberry tree, and from this safe perch he scolded brushtail as loudly as he could. "get out of these woods!" chatty squirrel shouted angrily. "you have no right in here. you are just sneaking around trying to catch somebody. but you can't. i won't let you. i'll tell on you. look here, everybody. here is old brushtail the fox. i know you, mr. brushtail. i've seen you before in the woods up along the deep river. look out, everybody! brushtail is around. he's right under this tree, right this minute. i can see him. look out for mr. brushtail! here he is!" well, doctor rabbit and cheepy chipmunk watched and listened while chatty squirrel scolded brushtail the fox so loudly. but brushtail paid no attention whatever to chatty. the fact was that he did hear every word chatty squirrel said and he was pretty angry about it, too, because you see he did not want all the little creatures of the big green woods to know he was around. he wanted to get one or two of them for breakfast before they even dreamed he was anywhere near. but even if he was angry, brushtail knew, of course, that he could not climb that tree after chatty squirrel, so he just ground his teeth and walked on. he decided that he would make chatty pay for this, indeed he would. he would catch him the very first of all. and so as doctor rabbit and cheepy chipmunk looked and listened, brushtail, without saying a word, walked on and finally slipped out of sight among some leafy bushes. "i'm going home this minute!" cheepy chipmunk exclaimed, his voice trembling with fear; and away he went for his stump as fast as he could run. after cheepy had gone, doctor rabbit said to himself, "well, i do declare! so brushtail the fox has found the big green woods, and likely enough intends to live here. if he does we'll certainly all have to watch out every minute. indeed we will. i'm glad chatty squirrel is scolding so loudly. perhaps our friends will all hear and be on the lookout." chatty squirrel, who had followed along in the branches of the trees and kept sight of slinky brushtail, was now heard quite a distance away, scolding louder than ever. "i wonder what chatty is scolding about out there now," doctor rabbit said. "it sounds as if he were still talking to brushtail. perhaps brushtail has stopped out there, and possibly he has caught something and is eating it. i'm going to slip out that way and see. i'll take the path that leads past several briar patches, and if mr. fox runs for me i'll just slip into a briar patch. if he tries to follow me in there he knows what he'll get. he'll get his eyes scratched out with the briars. my, how chatty is scolding! he's scolding brushtail, too. brushtail must be doing something unusual or chatty would not talk so excitedly." brushtail the fox plays "possum" doctor rabbit hurried away from his home toward the place where he heard chatty squirrel scolding brushtail the fox. doctor rabbit, to tell the truth, was afraid to venture out there so close to brushtail, but then, he reasoned, he would have to go sooner or later and get something to eat, so he might as well venture out now and see what the old villain was doing. doctor rabbit kept in the path that led past several briar patches, and this made him feel pretty safe. the nearer doctor rabbit came to the place where chatty squirrel was scolding, the louder sounded chatty's angry voice. doctor rabbit crept close, and slipped into a briar patch. not more than twenty feet away, lying on the ground as still as if he were dead, was brushtail the fox. but he did not fool doctor rabbit in the least. doctor rabbit knew instantly what brushtail wanted: he wanted chatty squirrel. because brushtail lay so still and paid not the least attention to his scolding, chatty squirrel became really puzzled. he stopped scolding and said to himself, "now i wonder if that old scamp _is_ dead. he certainly lies there very still, anyway. i believe i'll just slip down on the ground for a minute and see. if he's just playing dead, he'll come after me when i get on the ground. then i'll know for sure, and i'll go back up the tree in a hurry." chatty squirrel scrambled down the tree, and as soon as he reached the ground he began scolding brushtail the fox. he thought, of course, that this would make brushtail jump up if he were only playing dead; but brushtail paid no attention to chatty. he lay as still as a dead fox. chatty squirrel ran a little way toward him, but was afraid to venture far. just then he happened to see doctor rabbit hiding under the briar patch, motioning for him to come over, and looking as though he knew something very funny. there happened to be another tree by the briar patch, so chatty squirrel sprang right over to see what doctor rabbit wanted. doctor rabbit whispered something in chatty's ear, and then they chuckled softly to themselves. the more chatty thought about what doctor rabbit had said, the more he laughed--not very loudly, of course, because he did not want brushtail the fox to hear. "hurry along now before he gets up!" doctor rabbit whispered, and away ran chatty squirrel back to the tree he had left. chatty scrambled back up the tree in a hurry, and began scolding brushtail louder than ever. he did not say a word about doctor rabbit, of course; he just went right on scolding as if nothing had happened. now brushtail the fox was not dead, and as he lay there very still he thought every minute chatty squirrel's curiosity would get the better of him and chatty would come down the tree and close enough so that he could pounce upon him. but chatty did just exactly what doctor rabbit had told him to do. "i wish," he said aloud, "that i knew whether mr. fox is really dead. he lies so still i believe he is, and if he lies there much longer i shall have to go down and see. yes, i'll have to go down and poke him and see!" brushtail the fox could scarcely keep from smacking his lips when chatty said this, but he did not move, of course. he lay perfectly still, not even winking an eye, for he was very hungry, and he hoped chatty squirrel would decide to hurry and come down. and all the time that chatty squirrel up in the tree was scolding, doctor rabbit was working at something in the near-by thicket. chatty, you see, was going to keep brushtail's attention until doctor rabbit played a good joke on old brushtail. brushtail gets a scare now, this was what doctor rabbit was doing in the near-by thicket. he gathered some moss, and rolled it into a big ball. then he took a bottle of medicine from his medicine case. the bottle had ammonia in it--spirits of ammonia, it was--and doctor rabbit poured the medicine all over and through the big ball of moss. my, but that ammonia smelled strong! i should say it _did_ smell strong. it was so strong, in fact, that doctor rabbit had to turn his head partly away from the moss while he poured the medicine on it. now doctor rabbit had to be very, very careful. he picked up the ball of moss in his front paws and walked toward brushtail the fox, who lay on the ground with his eyes shut tight. chatty squirrel kept up a very loud scolding as doctor rabbit slipped up to brushtail. then when he was very near, doctor rabbit threw that moss with all the terribly strong ammonia right on brushtail's head and over his nose. brushtail got such a big whiff of the medicine that he almost strangled. my, how he did jump and yell! he was terribly scared, because he did not know for a minute what had happened. then he heard chatty up on the limb laughing and shouting for joy. doctor rabbit ran back to the edge of the thicket, and he was laughing too. it certainly did look funny to see brushtail the fox standing and staring at that moss as if he thought it was something alive. when brushtail saw that a joke had been played on him he was terribly angry. he knew, of course, he could not get chatty, so he made a rush for doctor rabbit. but doctor rabbit skipped into the thicket, picked up his medicine case and shouted, "good day, mr. fox! i guess you won't have chatty for breakfast! you'd better eat the moss ball." and away doctor rabbit ran. in a twinkling he was out of sight in the leafy woods. brushtail the fox ran after doctor rabbit as fast as he could go, but it was no use. he could not find him. now it happened that doctor rabbit had not gone far at all. he was not far from home, so he just hid behind a big log. and he was watching brushtail the fox all the time. my! how he did jump and yell! after a time brushtail sat down and kept still. his sharp eyes, however, were looking in every direction. he thought he might see doctor rabbit by keeping quiet and looking about him. doctor rabbit, as i have said, was so close to his home that he knew he was safe, so he walked quietly from behind the log, holding his medicine case and acting just as though he did not know that brushtail the fox was anywhere about. brushtail quickly lay down and was as quiet as possible. then doctor rabbit stopped, looked back, and said pleasantly, "it's a nice morning, brushy." that surely surprised brushtail, but when he saw doctor rabbit's home tree not far away, he knew he could not catch him. so he smiled and said, "i've just been playing with you all the time. do come on over to my home, neighbor rabbit. i have something very fine there to show you. we'll have some good times together." "ha! ha! ha!" wise doctor rabbit laughed, as he started toward his big tree. "yes," he continued, "i suppose you have some very cruel teeth to show me, mr. brushtail, but i can see them quite as well as i care to. ha! ha! ha!" and doctor rabbit ran for his tree. brushtail ran after him, too, but doctor rabbit ran fast and reached his home in safety. there he peeked out and saw brushtail steal into some bushes. doctor rabbit sees something interesting now when doctor rabbit ran into the big hollow tree that was his home, brushtail the fox slunk into some leafy bushes near by, and lay down without making a sound. "i'll just wait here," brushtail whispered to himself, "and that smart old rabbit will be coming out pretty soon. he won't know that i'm anywhere about." but old brushtail was very much mistaken, for doctor rabbit had peeked out of his front door just as soon as he was inside his house, and you remember he saw brushtail steal into the bushes. no, sir, he wasn't to be fooled this time. for a long time brushtail lay in the bushes. he lay so quietly that not a leaf on the branches about him stirred. his glittering eyes were turned toward doctor rabbit's tree, and every little while he showed his long, sharp teeth as he smiled at the thought of the good meal that big fat rabbit would make. but all the while doctor rabbit watched from an upstairs window where brushtail could not see him, although doctor rabbit could plainly see the pointed nose and sharp, gleaming eyes of his enemy. presently doctor rabbit heard the rustle of leaves and the gay _chatter_, _chatter_, _chatter_ of chatty red squirrel as he bounded into the branches of a tree overlooking the bushes that hid brushtail. doctor rabbit drew a long breath of relief. he wasn't afraid of brushtail the fox when he was safe in his big hollow tree--oh no, you mustn't think that, not for a moment. but you see doctor rabbit was getting pretty tired and stiff from watching so cautiously from his upstairs window, and yet he couldn't quite bring himself to the point of going downstairs and forgetting brushtail. no indeed, he couldn't quite do that. so doctor rabbit was glad to see chatty red squirrel, for he knew just what would happen. and sure enough, in a few minutes chatty squirrel saw brushtail lying low in the bushes, and then how he did scold! "aha, old brushtail, i see you hiding in the bushes. thought i wouldn't see you, didn't you? thought i wouldn't see you! but i see you, all right. you can't fool chatty, no siree. oh, i know you're looking for doctor rabbit," and chatty's tone became angrier at the thought of brushtail waiting to pounce upon his good friend, doctor rabbit. "you're just waiting for doctor rabbit to come home and then spring out at him. get out of here, get out, get out of here!" screamed chatty. brushtail the fox was angry. well, i should say he was. he knew that doctor rabbit would hear chatty red squirrel's scolding, and would know that he was hiding ready to eat him if he came out of the tree. brushtail was so angry that he snarled. but he slunk away through the bushes without saying a word to chatty red. brushtail is wise enough to know that there is no use arguing with chatty squirrel, for chatty is altogether too noisy a talker. i should say he is. when brushtail slunk away through the bushes, doctor rabbit called to chatty red squirrel, but chatty did not hear him. he had scampered away to another tree, still talking loudly. then doctor rabbit turned quickly and leaned out of his window to watch brushtail the fox. brushtail was trotting off through the big green woods in a direction in which doctor rabbit seldom went. and doctor rabbit noticed that he seemed to be afraid someone would see him. he looked on each side of him as he went along, and every now and then he took a big jump sidewise. doctor rabbit was certainly interested now, for he believed brushtail the fox was going to hide somewhere. probably he was going to hide in a place where he hid every day. yes, sir, brushtail certainly was cautious now, and he must have jumped to one side as many as five times while doctor rabbit was watching him. then in a little while he reached a part of the woods where the brush and leaves were so thick that doctor rabbit could just barely see him as he slipped along. two hunters come to the big green woods when brushtail the fox slipped into the place where there were so many leafy bushes, it was very hard for doctor rabbit to see him from his big tree. sometimes he lost sight of brushtail altogether, and then for an instant he would see his long, sharp nose, or his reddish-brown coat, or his big bushy tail. and all the time brushtail became more and more cautious. he moved so slowly and so quietly among the bushes that doctor rabbit had to strain his eyes to see him. then suddenly brushtail jumped high up onto the dead limb of a big fallen tree. he walked out on this limb, then jumped far out into a dense thicket and disappeared. yes, sir, brushtail the fox was gone! doctor rabbit stood by his window in the tree and looked and looked. he thought he would presently see a sharp nose or a bushy tail, but he did not. brushtail was hiding somewhere in that thicket. "well! well! well!" doctor rabbit exclaimed. "i certainly should like to know what old brushtail is doing in there. i am positive he is in that thicket. he never could have slipped out without my seeing him. yes, sir, he's in there. and that's probably where he always hides. likely enough he has a den in there. i shouldn't be surprised if there are a lot of rocks in there and brushtail the fox has a big hole away back under them." "well," doctor rabbit continued, talking softly to himself, "i'm going to slip out there as near as possible and keep watch and see if i can discover anything more about brushtail. i must not tell anyone as yet what i have seen. no, if i want to get a lot of information i must just keep still and do the finding out myself. it isn't safe to trust too many people." doctor rabbit ran downstairs and was starting out into the woods to try to get nearer brushtail's hiding place when he saw something that made him keep still and watch. farmer roe and his boy were coming through the woods toward doctor rabbit's tree. just as they went past, doctor rabbit heard farmer roe say, "yes, i'm certain that there is a fox in these woods. that was a fox's track we saw in the yard this morning, and that was a fox, i am sure, that took the old white hen last night. our chickens will be in danger until we get rid of him." "do you suppose he hides in these woods in the daytime?" asked farmer roe's boy. "i shouldn't be surprised," replied farmer roe. "in fact, i'm pretty sure he hides close by. there is one thing that puzzles me, however, and that is that although yappy trailed that fox directly from the chicken yard, he lost the trail right in the woods and could not pick it up again. the fox has played some trick, of course," said farmer roe, "and we must try and find out what it is. i really shouldn't be surprised," he went on, "if that fox is lying around close enough to see us this minute. we'll just keep watch until we discover his hiding place." doctor rabbit informs his friends doctor rabbit did not find out anything more about brushtail the fox that day, nor for several days. but it was only a very short time until all the little creatures of the big green woods knew that brushtail the fox was around, and they were afraid to poke their noses out of their homes. stubby woodchuck had seen brushtail three times, and he said brushtail certainly did look fierce. "he looked so fierce he took my appetite away for several hours each time i saw him," said stubby woodchuck, "and i am sure he looks fully as terrible as ki-yi coyote or tom wildcat. yes, sir, we have a very mean and dangerous enemy in mr. brushtail, and we must keep watch every minute." "i wish he'd go away and stay away," said cheepy chipmunk, who was always easily frightened. "but he doesn't expect to leave at all," doctor rabbit informed his friends. "he expects to live here in these woods, right along." "he does!" exclaimed poor cheepy chipmunk, his voice trembling with fear. "how do you know he expects to live here?" "well," explained doctor rabbit, "i have seen quite enough to convince me that brushtail expects to make his home in the big green woods. in fact, i am in position to know that he has a home here right now. it's all fixed up, and he's living in it. he spends his time there except when he's out hunting us or after one of farmer roe's nice fat hens." "where is old brushtail's home?" stubby woodchuck and cheepy chipmunk demanded in the same breath. "sh!" doctor rabbit warned his friends. "don't talk so loud! brushtail might be hiding so near he could hear every word you say. the fact is, i can't tell you any more at present. it would not help if i told you more, and it might get out so brushtail would hear of it. just keep still about what i've said and watch for brushtail every minute you are out in the woods. in the meantime whenever i get a chance i will hide in a certain place, where i can see him often enough, i think, to discover what his plans are. then when i find out all i can, i will slip around quietly and tell you." "i saw farmer roe and his boy passing through our woods this morning," stubby woodchuck said. "i wonder what they were after?" "they were after brushtail," doctor rabbit explained. "i heard them talking and i heard them say they were trying to find out where he lives." "dear me! i hope they'll run him away so he'll never come back!" said cheepy chipmunk, with a troubled look. "they'll probably have to find out first where he lives," said doctor rabbit, "and i believe that is going to be pretty hard for them to do. but still, yappy has a very sharp nose, and in time he may find brushtail's den." it was dinner time, so doctor rabbit and stubby woodchuck and cheepy chipmunk separated, each slipping home as quietly as he could. what doctor rabbit saw doctor rabbit did not see brushtail the fox again for several days. then one morning when the sun came up warm and bright and all the little creatures of the big green woods were feeling very happy, doctor rabbit decided that he would try again. he made up his mind to slip over to that thicket where he had last seen brushtail, and see what he could discover with his sharp eyes. there were a good many briar patches along the way, and doctor rabbit kept as near these as possible, so he was safe, even though the way _was_ a little longer. you can be very sure, too, that doctor rabbit kept his eyes wide open all the time. but he did not see the least sign of brushtail the fox, and decided that he was probably somewhere in that dense thicket. "perhaps," thought doctor rabbit, "old brushtail is in there right now eating a chicken he has stolen from farmer roe." now the very thought of getting any nearer that thicket made doctor rabbit tremble with fear. still, there was a fine big briar patch close to the thicket, and doctor rabbit decided he would run for this. he had hidden in that briar patch several times from various enemies, and was familiar with every inch of it. he knew he would be safe from brushtail in the briar patch, and all brushtail could do if he saw doctor rabbit hiding there would be just to wait outside. but he would have to give up in the end, because doctor rabbit never would come out of a briar patch so long as an enemy was waiting for him. doctor rabbit got all ready, and then he ran for that briar patch. he ran as hard as he could and dived into the briar patch just as if brushtail were very close behind him, because, you see, it might be that brushtail _was_ very close. then doctor rabbit crept to the center of the briar patch and sat down. he decided that if necessary he would stay in the briar patch all day and watch. he knew brushtail the fox had some kind of a secret in that thicket--a den or something--else he never would have been so careful about getting into it. doctor rabbit waited for about two hours, and he was already getting tired when all of a sudden he sat as still as a stone. in fact, he sat so perfectly still that i doubt if you could have seen him even if you had been looking right at him. the reason why doctor rabbit sat still so quickly was that he saw a movement in the leafy thicket. presently the bushes parted, and who do you suppose came out? no, it was not brushtail--it was mrs. brushtail! and now doctor rabbit knew exactly why brushtail had been so careful about getting into that thicket. it was mr. and mrs. brushtail's home. and it was here, of course, that farmer roe's hens were disappearing, and this was where doctor rabbit and stubby woodchuck and all their friends would go if they didn't watch out! yes, sir! this was where a great many of the little creatures of the big green woods would disappear if mr. and mrs. brushtail did not leave. while doctor rabbit was looking at mrs. brushtail she yawned, showing all of her long, sharp teeth. although he was safe in the briar patch, doctor rabbit trembled. he was a little too close to old mrs. brushtail to feel quite comfortable. mrs. brushtail gets a hen of course doctor rabbit was greatly surprised to see mrs. brushtail in the thicket. and still, after he thought about it, he was not so surprised either. you see, it was spring and just the time of year for mr. and mrs. brushtail to find themselves a new home if they needed one. mrs. brushtail stood there looking about in every direction with her sharp eyes. then she gave a great spring and landed on the limb of the fallen tree. she walked along the limb until she came to the end of it, and then jumped, as brushtail had done, as far out as she could, only mrs. brushtail did not jump _toward_ the thicket, she jumped away from it. she stood again looking all around and listening for a minute, then trotted away through the woods toward farmer roe's, and was soon out of sight. doctor rabbit thought to himself, "mrs. brushtail is going over to the edge of the woods nearest to farmer roe's. she's going to hide there and see if some foolish hen doesn't come out into the woods to hunt bugs and grasshoppers." and he made up his mind that as long as he was safe he would just wait where he was and see if mrs. brushtail would come back. well, he did not have to wait very long. as he sat in the briar patch listening, he heard a terrible cackling over toward the edge of the woods nearest farmer roe's. it sounded as if chickens were very much frightened and were running in every direction. in a short time doctor rabbit saw mrs. brushtail coming through the woods. and sure enough, she had one of farmer roe's big white hens in her mouth. mrs. brushtail held the hen by the neck, and after making a wide circle and jumping to one side as far as she could she came to the fallen tree. when she looked up at the high limb she seemed puzzled. you see, she could not jump so high with the hen. but she was pretty wise. she laid the hen upon the trunk of the tree, then jumped upon the limb above, and reaching down, picked up the hen and walked out along the limb toward the leafy thicket. then she sprang into the thicket and disappeared. how doctor rabbit did want to see the inside of that thicket! and what made him all the more curious was that he was certain he heard a number of growls after mrs. brushtail disappeared in there. and the growls did not sound like mrs. brushtail's voice, or like brushtail's either. yes, sir, there was something very interesting going on in that thicket, and doctor rabbit made up his mind he must see what it was, if possible. he wondered where brushtail was. doctor rabbit disliked to go any nearer the thicket unless he knew where that sly old fox was. "but," he said to himself, "likely enough mr. brushtail is in the thicket with mrs. brushtail and is helping her eat that chicken. anyway, it's only a little distance to that tree with a hole in the base and a lot of prickly vines around it. i'm going to run for it! the distance is so short that brushtail would not have time to get me even if he saw me. i'll get to the tree, and if brushtail should come after me i'll run into the hole at the base of the tree. i'll find out about old brushy before he knows it. and the first thing they know they will be going out of these woods in a hurry. but i must be very, very careful. i should say i must! i must watch every second. my, how those animals in that thicket do growl! it sounds almost as if they were quarreling." brushtail the fox finds some pieces of cheese doctor rabbit was just ready to run to the tree with the prickly vines around it when he crouched low and sat very still again. he heard somebody coming through the woods. pretty soon he saw that it was farmer roe. the farmer stopped when he got close to the briar patch and muttered to himself, "every spring i have to rid these woods of a fox or two. i guess i'll just put out a little bait for them and see how that will work." as soon as doctor rabbit heard farmer roe coming through the woods he noticed that everything in the thicket grew very quiet. i should say it did! there was not the least sound in there--not a single growl. and there farmer roe stood within twenty feet of the home of mr. and mrs. brushtail without ever dreaming of it. farmer roe had gloves on, and he held a number of pieces of cheese on one hand. he put several of these pieces of cheese under the fallen tree. right near the thicket he placed some more cheese, partly under some dead leaves. then farmer roe went around placing the cheese here and there where he thought the fox would be most likely to find it. after a time he put the last piece of cheese under an old log. then he straightened up and said, "there, now! that ought to fix him, or both of them, if there are two instead of one. i'm glad yappy has been trained not to eat anything he finds out in the woods," he added, "for this bait would be the end of him, too! and that would never do." and farmer roe walked back through the woods toward his house. after a while the sound of his heavy footsteps died away. everything in the thicket was perfectly still. there was not a sound. doctor rabbit waited and listened. then he heard a movement inside the thicket. presently mrs. brushtail came out, sat down, and looked in the direction farmer roe had taken. while she sat there mr. brushtail came trotting up from somewhere out in the woods. doctor rabbit heard the two talking very rapidly and excitedly, but they talked so low he could not understand what they said. he wanted very much to know what they said, but what interested him still more was that he again heard those growls in the thicket. he wondered who it could be, since neither brushtail nor mrs. brushtail was in there now. well, after mr. and mrs. brushtail had talked for a while, brushtail went right up to the old dead log where farmer roe had placed some of the cheese. doctor rabbit was delighted, for he thought this would be the end of brushtail the fox. and we can't blame doctor rabbit or think him cruel, either, for hoping so. you see, doctor rabbit, being a doctor, knew at once that farmer roe had poisoned that cheese. yes, sir, he had put poison in it for mr. fox. and if mr. and mrs. brushtail should eat just one of those pieces of cheese it would certainly cause their death. but doctor rabbit was certainly surprised at what happened. brushtail took the piece of cheese carefully in his mouth and carried it to a small hole a little distance away. then he hunted around until he found every piece of poisoned cheese farmer roe had put out. and each time he found a piece of cheese he did just what he did with the first piece: he carried it to that hole and dropped it in. when he had finished he stood and looked down at all those pieces of cheese. then he began scratching leaves and dirt into the hole. once in a while he would turn around and look down into the hole and laugh. then he would turn his back again, and just make the leaves and dirt fly into that hole. well, he scratched and scratched and scratched until there was not a bit of cheese anywhere to be seen. the hole was full of leaves and dirt, so you never could have found it. mrs. brushtail came out and smiled at brushtail, and both of them looked at farmer roe's house and laughed and laughed. but doctor rabbit was not pleased. i should say he wasn't pleased, and he wondered how these two terrible creatures would ever be driven away from the woods. and he wondered more than ever who it was that kept growling in the thicket. the growlers come out of the thicket after mr. and mrs. brushtail had gone back into the thicket, doctor rabbit wanted to run home. he surely was uncomfortable so near to brushtail and mrs. brushtail. "and still," he thought to himself, "since i am here, i'll just stay a little longer and discover all i can." well, the growling went on for a while in the thicket, and then something happened that certainly surprised doctor rabbit. mrs. brushtail came out into the open with farmer roe's chicken, partly eaten, and she was followed by four little foxes! mrs. brushtail dropped the chicken on the ground for the little foxes, and then she sprang upon a log and just lay there and watched them. mr. fox trotted off into the woods again. "he's probably going after another hen," thought doctor rabbit, "or after stubby woodchuck or chatty red squirrel or any of us he can catch." and doctor rabbit hoped all his little friends would be on the lookout. while mrs. brushtail lay up on the log and looked on proudly, how the little foxes did pull at that dead chicken and growl! "and so there are the growlers i heard in the thicket!" doctor rabbit thought to himself. those little foxes might have looked pretty to some people, they were so young and so playful and so funny; but they did not look pretty to doctor rabbit. indeed they did not. they looked like four terrible monsters. their little eyes snapped like the eyes of terrible little savages, and their tiny teeth, sharp as needles, pulled feathers and sank into the chicken. it was certainly true that mrs. brushtail was teaching her very small children how to eat chicken, and as she lay on the log and watched them, she seemed perfectly satisfied with them. after the little foxes had growled and pulled at the chicken for a good while, brushtail was seen coming through the woods with something in his mouth. then suddenly doctor rabbit became almost sick with fear. he thought for a second that brushtail had caught stubby woodchuck, but it proved to be no one but a large and ugly old woodrat that had lately grown so cross and savage that all the little creatures of the big green woods were afraid of him. doctor rabbit was very glad indeed that it was that particular old woodrat, because he had really become dangerous. brushtail dropped the woodrat down before the little foxes, and how they did did begin pulling and biting him! mrs. brushtail up on the log smiled ever so broadly at this. but it was not a pleasing smile to doctor rabbit, hiding in the briar patch. i should say not! it was a terrible smile. the next instant yappy came tearing through the woods, right toward the thicket, and doctor rabbit had a moment of hope. but mrs. brushtail just uttered one quick, low growl, and every little fox scurried into the thicket. that time doctor rabbit had a good view of the inside of the thicket, and he saw what became of the foxes. they went into a hole under some rocks by a large papaw bush. "so that," said doctor rabbit to himself, "is where mr. and mrs. brushtail and their little brushies have their den." brushtail did not run into the thicket with mrs. brushtail and the little foxes. when he saw yappy coming toward the thicket he ran right toward the excited dog and then hid behind another thicket. when yappy came near, brushtail sprang right out, and away he ran. yappy bayed loudly, and away he went through the woods after brushtail. you see now what brushtail was doing--he was leading yappy away from that den of little foxes! jack rabbit sprains his foot when mrs. brushtail and the four little brushies ran into the hole in the thicket and father brushtail ran away through the woods with yappy in hot pursuit, doctor rabbit decided he had better be going. he had discovered a great deal anyway, and now he wanted to find some of his friends and tell them about it. doctor rabbit decided first to go over to the wide prairie and see his friend jack rabbit. doctor rabbit was not much afraid to cross the wide prairie, now that ki-yi coyote was gone and brushtail the fox was busy, for the time at least. doctor rabbit had not been over to see jack rabbit's family for a long time, and he was considerably surprised to find jack rabbit laid up with a sprained foot. jack rabbit said he had sprained his foot the day before while running from some terrible creature that looked somewhat like ki-yi coyote and just a little like a dog, but not exactly like either of them. "he had a large, bushy tail," jack rabbit explained, "and his coat was a reddish-brown color. he jumped out from behind some bunch grass and came at me so swiftly that i jumped and turned quickly. and that was how i sprained my foot. he certainly is a fierce and dangerous creature, and i wondered if any of the rest of you had seen him," jack rabbit concluded. "indeed we have," doctor rabbit replied. "i'll bandage your foot now," he continued, "and then we can talk about this new enemy. mrs. jack rabbit," doctor rabbit said looking at her over his gold glasses, "i'll thank you for that bottle of chloroform liniment i left here some time ago." mrs. jack rabbit brought out the bottle of liniment, and after doctor rabbit had bathed jack rabbit's foot with some of the liniment he bandaged it quite snugly. "that feels fine!" said jack rabbit, getting right up and standing on all four feet. "i'm so glad you came over, doctor. that foot feels so good i know i can dance a little jig!" and jack rabbit started to dance a little, but he said, "ouch!" right away, and everybody laughed, even jack rabbit. his foot was not quite well enough for dancing. then doctor rabbit said, "i told you some of the rest of us had seen that same animal that chased you, jack rabbit. i am sure it was the same animal, from the way you describe him. it is brushtail the fox. he has just lately moved into the big green woods, and intends to make his home there right along. what makes the matter worse for all of us is that not only has mr. brushtail come, but he has brought his whole family!" "oh, dear me!" exclaimed mrs. jack rabbit. "i thought _one_ of them was enough. but all of them--well, that makes it pretty serious for us." "but it might be worse," said doctor rabbit, who always sees the bright side of everything. "you see," he continued, "four of those foxes are so small that they are harmless. besides, farmer roe and his boy are on the lookout for that whole fox family, and they may get rid of them in a very short time. i thought once," doctor rabbit continued, "of letting yappy run me right to that thicket where the fox family lives. but if i did, brushtail or mrs. brushtail would surely be right there to lead yappy away off into the woods. no, if farmer roe or his boy doesn't stumble onto their den, i'll have to think up some way myself to get rid of that fox family. i'll bring my imagination into play," said doctor rabbit smilingly, and somewhat proudly, too. "what does 'magination' mean, sir?" little billy rabbit asked wonderingly. "it means," said doctor rabbit, "that you must think and think and think until you think out something quite new." then doctor rabbit patted all the little rabbits on the head, except billy rabbit whom he chucked under the chin, as he bade them all a very pleasant good morning. "keep a sharp lookout, and don't worry," doctor rabbit said with a smile as he left. "if farmer roe does not get rid of that fox family, i'll think out some way myself." and he ran like a gray streak back across the wide prairie toward the big green woods. doctoring little thomas woodchuck the next morning quite early doctor rabbit received a call to visit a new woodchuck family that had recently moved into the north part of the big green woods. doctor rabbit told father woodchuck, who came over after him, that he would be along in a very few moments. then he shut the door and began to get ready. doctor rabbit always dressed with especial care when he was called to a new family. he got out his silk hat and brushed it carefully. he curled his mustache until it looked just right. then he put on his finest pair of gold glasses, which he kept laid away for such occasions. he looked very handsome, i can tell you, in his new blue coat, his bright red trousers, and his finest pair of soft white shoes. he surely did. doctor rabbit was ready. he picked up his best medicine case, filled with the finest of medicines, and started toward the home of the new family of woodchucks. when doctor rabbit reached the place he found it was one of the youngsters who was sick. in fact, it was thomas woodchuck, the pet of the family. his name was not just tommy; it was thomas, and everybody called him that. doctor rabbit sat down by the bed and said, "let me see your tongue, thomas." you see, doctor rabbit had asked what thomas' name was. he always did this. it helped the children not to feel afraid of him. little thomas woodchuck put out his tongue. "i see! i see! that will do, thomas," said doctor rabbit cheerfully. "your tongue is badly coated. your pulse is pretty rapid, too." then doctor rabbit thumped all around over little thomas woodchuck, just as the men doctors thump around over little boys and girls when they are sick. only doctor rabbit did not have to thump so long. he could always find out in a hurry what was the trouble. doctor rabbit looked very wisely over his fine gold glasses at all the rest of the family who were standing about and said, "mr. and mrs. woodchuck, your son has some stomach trouble from eating too many of those raw peanuts farmer roe has stored in his cob house!" well, sir, that was exactly the truth. they all wondered how doctor rabbit knew what thomas had eaten. but doctor rabbit just had his eyes open, and put two and two together. he knew the peanuts were in farmer roe's cob house because he had taken a few of them himself now and then. and then he saw a lot of peanut hulls right under the cover of the bed where little thomas woodchuck lay. "thomas," said doctor rabbit, laughing, "you must not eat so many of those peanuts. why, there will be none left for me!" then little thomas woodchuck and the whole family laughed, and they all felt better. but doctor rabbit gave thomas three big black pills and told him to swallow them all at once. thomas did, and they were so bitter he tried to spit them out after he had swallowed them, but he could not do it, of course, and so they went right to work curing him. "you will be quite well tomorrow, thomas," doctor rabbit said cheerfully, and the whole woodchuck family breathed easier. then mrs. woodchuck said, "doctor, i hear two terrible foxes have come into our woods." doctor rabbit frowned at mrs. woodchuck to make her keep still about the foxes near thomas, for fear he might be frightened. he was always very careful about this when visiting his patients. "well, i must be going. goodbye, thomas," doctor rabbit said, just as if he had not heard mrs. woodchuck. then when he was out in the kitchen he whispered very low to father and mother woodchuck: "yes, two terrible foxes have come into the big green woods, but i did not want thomas to hear. but don't you worry, mrs. woodchuck," doctor rabbit went on, because he saw how troubled she looked, "don't you worry a bit, i thought of a scheme to get rid of ki-yi coyote and also of tom wildcat, and if farmer roe does not get rid of mr. and mrs. brushtail, i will. good morning!" and doctor rabbit slipped out of the door and was gone. listening to the brushtails it was a mighty good thing that doctor rabbit kept a sharp lookout on his way home from the woodchuck house. if he had not been watching he might have run right into mr. and mrs. brushtail, who stood talking behind a large elm tree. doctor rabbit heard them and saw them at the same time. he was so close that he was afraid even to run. so he crept noiselessly under a dense leafy thicket near at hand. doctor rabbit was pretty badly scared, because there was not a briar patch anywhere near. so he did the safest thing. he crouched down on the ground, kept still, and listened. mr. and mrs. brushtail, talking behind the tree, never dreamed, of course, that there was anybody close by listening. they talked pretty softly, but doctor rabbit was so near that he could hear every word they said. brushtail was talking. "yes," he said, "that dog has a very sharp nose, and he is bound to find our den sooner or later. so i think, mrs. fox, we had better move you and the children clear out of these woods. i'll take you to a new den in the woods away off up the river. there is not much in the way of rabbits and woodchucks and chickens up there, but i'll keep on spending most of my time down here. you see, i can catch the rabbits and woodchucks and chickens, and carry them up to you." "very well, dear," said mrs. brushtail, "i think that is an excellent plan. when shall we move?" "this very day," brushtail said. "we'll get the young foxes right away and start off with them. the sooner we get them out of here, the better it will be for all of us." mr. and mrs. brushtail trotted off toward the thicket in which they had their den. doctor rabbit was still a little scared, but he believed he would follow at a distance and see for himself whether mr. and mrs. brushtail actually did move the little foxes. mr. and mrs. brushtail went into the thicket, and in a very short time came out again. and sure enough, each of them carried a little fox by the back of its neck. they walked across the shallow murmuring brook and laid the two little brushies down on the other side in a thicket. then they came back and carried the other two little brushies over in the same way. as they went past him this last time doctor rabbit heard brushtail say to mrs. brushtail, "you can just wait with them in the thicket on the other side of murmuring brook until i carry two of them up the river to the new den. when i come back we can carry the other two." you see, foxes can carry their baby foxes by the back of the neck and not hurt them at all. well, doctor rabbit was glad and hungry at the same time. he now hurried right over to the nice, tender blue grass under the big sycamore tree. there he found chatty red squirrel, cheepy chipmunk, and quite a number of his other friends, who all wanted to know at once if doctor rabbit had found out anything more about mr. fox. doctor rabbit did know a great deal, as you know, and he told his friends he would tell them. but he added that he was so hungry he would have to eat while he talked. doctor rabbit is a great person to eat grass, anyway. "it seems as though i never can get enough!" he said every now and then. doctor rabbit tells some good news chatty red squirrel, cheepy chipmunk, and all the rest of doctor rabbit's friends who were gathered under the big sycamore tree were certainly very happy when doctor rabbit told them that mrs. brushtail and all the little brushies were leaving the big green woods for good. "as the matter stands now," doctor rabbit said, "we've nobody but brushtail to look out for. but he's surely enough! i should say he is! and if farmer roe does not get him soon, i'm going to keep right on thinking of some plan to get him out of here. we can't scare him as we did tom wildcat. brushtail is too cunning for that. he'd just laugh at us if we painted signs and put them up on our doors, no matter _what_ was painted on the signs. i heard brushtail tell mrs. brushtail that he would not live in that thicket any more. he said he would get himself a new den not far off and probably a little nearer to the murmuring brook. so you see we could not lead yappy to brushtail now if we wanted to. and i am afraid yappy will be a good while in finding brushtail's new den. i may find it," doctor rabbit continued, "but i'd never risk trying to lead yappy to it, and jack rabbit has a sprained foot, so he can't. but from the way he talked to me, i don't think he'd be willing to try it even if his foot weren't sprained." brushtail the fox seized her by the neck "possibly," suggested chatty red squirrel, "brushtail will not have a fallen tree near his new den, nor any other way of making yappy lose the trail. and possibly yappy will smell along old brushtail's trail and find him right in his den." "don't you ever think brushtail will be foolish enough to walk straight along the ground to his den," said doctor rabbit. "he's far too wise for that, no matter where his den is. no, sir, he will make big jumps sidewise and walk back on his trail and walk in big circles, and better still, walk for a distance in the murmuring brook. ah! he'll do a whole lot of things before he goes into his den. of course," doctor rabbit said softly, "it is possible farmer roe may trap old brushtail. i saw him working with a trap only this morning." a foolish old hen several days after doctor rabbit had talked to his friends under the big sycamore tree he was hopping along near the edge of the big green woods when he saw brushtail the fox hiding behind a tree and looking toward farmer roe's house. doctor rabbit crept under a big brush pile and looked in the same direction. what do you suppose brushtail was watching? well, he was looking at a big plymouth rock hen coming across the field right toward the place where he lay hidden. now, if doctor rabbit had had something better than a brush pile to hide under, he might have made some sort of noise and warned the hen. but if he had made the least sound, brushtail would have come diving under that brush pile in a second, for he isn't afraid of brush piles as he is of briar patches. pretty soon the hen reached the woods. she stretched up her neck and looked around, but not seeing anything she started into the woods for some crickets. she had gone only a few steps when brushtail the fox bounded out, seized her by the neck, and ran off through the big green woods. doctor rabbit followed along behind, going hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, and presently he saw brushtail splashing along in the murmuring brook. he was trotting along in the brook for a distance, for, you see, a hound cannot smell a fox's tracks in the water; and so yappy could not track him. doctor rabbit stopped and looked. he saw brushtail finally cross to the other side of the murmuring brook. brushtail then turned and looked back to see if anybody was following him. he did not see anyone, so, still holding the dead hen in his mouth, he trotted out of sight among the trees. of course doctor rabbit knew what brushtail was going to do. he was going to take that hen up the river to mrs. brushtail and the little brushies. when brushtail had passed out of sight, doctor rabbit did not go home at once. no, he sat down to think. he was trying to think out a way to drive old brushtail out of the big green woods. he sat there and thought ever and ever so long. sometimes he thought so hard he scratched his head without knowing it. at other times he curled his mustache. so he thought and thought, but after a long time he said he would have to give it up for this time. he was not discouraged, for he could tell from the various things he had thought of that something would turn up after a while to help him work out a plan that would get rid of brushtail the fox. that was one fine thing about doctor rabbit--he would not give up. he kept right on trying. well, for the next two days doctor rabbit was busy doctoring the little chipmunk children. they had got into farmer roe's apple orchard and had eaten a lot of green apples, in spite of the fact that mother chipmunk had told jimmy chipmunk, her oldest, that he and the rest of the children should not eat green apples. doctor rabbit lays a trap the day after doctor rabbit cured the little chipmunk children, he thought of a new plan for catching brushtail the fox, and he decided to try it at once. doctor rabbit knew very well that somehow he must drive brushtail out of the big green woods. none of the little creatures would be safe for a moment until this was done. yes, cruel, sly old brushtail must be driven away, and everything depended on our clever doctor rabbit. as doctor rabbit started hopping along through the woods he said quietly to himself, "of course this scheme i have in mind may not work. but it is worth trying anyway. i won't tell any of my friends about it, and then if i don't catch brushtail they won't be disappointed. but if i _do_ catch him!" right here doctor rabbit stopped and laughed and laughed. "my," he continued, "if i _do_ catch him, won't stubby woodchuck and cheepy chipmunk and all the others be surprised! well, i should say they _will_ be surprised!" and doctor rabbit went hopping along, chuckling to himself and feeling mighty fine. he is always happy when he has thought of a plan to get rid of some big, cruel animal. doctor rabbit kept going until he came to a part of the big green woods where the murmuring brook was widest and deepest. he knew just what he was looking for, too. you see, farmer roe's boy had been setting his fishing lines here every night. each morning he would pull his lines out of the water, take the fish off, and then leave one or two of the lines lying on the bank until evening. doctor rabbit wanted one of these fishing lines, and when he reached the place, sure enough, there was a long, stout fishing line lying right on the ground. there were some hooks on the end of the line, but doctor rabbit did not want these, so with his sharp teeth he cut them off. then he picked up the line and took it some distance away to a big thicket. here doctor rabbit began making a loop in one end of that fishing line and chuckling as he worked. well, in just a little while he had that loop all fixed. then he spread out the loop, which was made so it would slip, on a nice patch of open ground near the thicket. the other end of the line he hid in the thicket. then he went over to the edge of the murmuring brook. he moved along the edge of the brook and watched ever so carefully. now what do you suppose doctor rabbit was looking for this time? well, sir, he was looking for a live fish. he saw several and made a grab for them, but they all got away. but doctor rabbit is very patient, and presently he seized a nice one and carried it, wiggling in his mouth, back to the loop he had made in that line. he dropped the small fish in the center of the loop. the fish didn't jump much now; it only wiggled and flapped its tail a little, and that was just what doctor rabbit wanted it to do. he ran into the thicket where the other end of the line was and waited for brushtail the fox to come along. as doctor rabbit waited and listened he heard footsteps approaching. he peeped out to see who it was. it wasn't brushtail at all; it was ray coon. and my, you should have seen mr. coon run for that fish when he saw it! "hurrah!" ray coon shouted. "some one has lost a fish. here's my breakfast right here!" and he was just about to pounce upon the fish when he was almost scared out of his wits by doctor rabbit calling out, "boo! let that fish alone, neighbor! i put it there to catch brushtail the fox! come here, into the thicket." and so ray coon, looking rather foolish, went into the thicket where doctor rabbit was hiding. "keep right still!" doctor rabbit whispered to his friend. "i was going to try to catch old brushtail all by myself," he continued, "but now that you have happened along you'd better stay, for i may need some help." "how are you going to catch him, doctor rabbit?" ray coon asked. and doctor rabbit just pointed one foot out toward the loop and the squirming fish. then ray coon understood, and how he did chuckle! he was just as much amused as was doctor rabbit and they both laughed and laughed, but they had to be very quiet, of course, because at any minute brushtail might come along. suddenly doctor rabbit peeked out and whispered, "sh! sh! keep as still as anything! there comes old brushy now. and yes, he's coming this way!" brushtail the fox is almost caught doctor rabbit and ray coon kept perfectly quiet in the thicket and watched brushtail the fox as he came creeping along. when he saw the fish lying in that loop, my, how wide brushtail's eyes did open! the fish jumped and squirmed just enough to make brushtail want it very badly. he was so delighted that he stood up on his hind legs and danced toward the fish. "ha! ha!" he laughed. "it was probably old bald eagle who flew over the woods and dropped his fish! ha! ha! ha! that's luck for me--a fine fish for breakfast. and i did not have to get my feet wet to catch it." then brushtail began to sing: "great flying bald eagle caught a fish, and flew away to eat him; but down it fell through green treetops, and brushy fox will cheat him!" brushtail finished his song and jumped for the fish. he jumped, of course, right into that loop doctor rabbit had made in the stout fishing cord. well, sir, just as soon as brushtail's feet touched the ground inside that loop, doctor rabbit and ray coon jerked the line as quickly and as firmly as they could. the loop slipped up and caught brushtail around the body. my, but he was surprised and scared! i should say he was! he forgot the fish instantly, and he yelled ever so loud, "let me go," although he did not know, of course, just what it was that had caught him. the way he yelled and started pulling to get away was so funny that doctor rabbit and ray coon laughed until they could scarcely hold the line. they wrapped the line around their paws and held on as hard as ever they could. and my, how brushtail did dig his claws into the ground and pull! when he found he couldn't free himself he was more frightened than ever and shouted (because, you see, he could not see what held him), "you let go of me, you old ghost, or goblin man! you let go of me or i'll claw you to pieces! let go of me or i'll come back there and pull all your hair out, and i'll throw you in the briars so far you'll never get out and they will stick you forever!" and all the time brushtail was talking this he was digging his claws into the ground and pulling with all his might. doctor rabbit could not have held him alone, but ray coon is pretty plump and stout, and he helped a great deal. but brushtail pulled so hard that he pulled them right out of the thicket before they knew it! doctor rabbit was so anxious to hold brushtail that he cried right out, "hold him, ray coon! hold on to him! hold on to him!" then doctor rabbit saw his mistake, for when brushtail the fox heard that voice he stopped pulling and turned around quickly. when he turned toward them, ray coon seized the fish, and he and doctor rabbit ran for their lives. and brushtail was close behind them. doctor rabbit skipped away as easily as could be, and ray coon, with the fish in his mouth, started up a tree. brushtail ran for ray coon and gave a big spring for him. he almost got him, too, for he bit him on the hind foot. but ray coon managed to get up on a limb just out of reach. brushtail was so angry at losing the fish and being completely fooled that he jumped several times as high as he could, but he could not jump quite high enough. so ray coon just sat there and ate that fish right before brushtail's eyes. "this is an extra good fish," ray coon called down, as he gobbled it up. "it's extra good, brushy. but you didn't want it anyway, did you? ha! ha! ha!" then old brushtail was angrier than before. he pulled the loop off of his body with his teeth and snarled, "all right for this time--you and that big fat rabbit fooled me. he's pretty clever, but he'll not fool me again. and the _next_ time i'll get both of you. i'll eat rabbit and coon both at one meal. in about three days i'll get both of you!" and with an angry growl old brushtail the fox went off into the woods. after a while doctor rabbit ventured out of his hiding place and hopped over to the tree which ray coon had climbed. "brushtail has gone off toward the murmuring brook," doctor rabbit said. "come on down and let me doctor your foot where he bit you. i see it's bleeding a little." ray coon came right down and laughed as he said, "my foot isn't hurt much, doctor, and it will soon be well if you put some of your yellow salve on it." "of course it will," doctor rabbit agreed, as he took some salve from his medicine case. he bandaged ray's foot in a few minutes. but all the time that he was bandaging it, he kept a sharp lookout for brushtail. "he's very sly," doctor rabbit said, "and i am certain that right this minute he is planning some scheme to catch us or some of our friends." "that's so," ray coon replied, looking at the bushes around him somewhat nervously. "i do wish," he continued, "that we could think of some plan to get rid of him for good. then we could live happily and have our fun as we used to do." "don't you worry, neighbor coon," doctor rabbit chuckled as he picked up his medicine case and looked at ray coon over his big glasses. "don't you worry," he repeated, "i'll have a plan all in good time, and right now i'm going in the direction he went, to see what he is up to!" ray coon seemed a little nervous again as he said, "well, do be careful, whatever you do, doctor, because he looked terribly cruel, you remember." "ha! ha! ha!" jolly doctor rabbit laughed as he started away, waving a paw at ray coon, "i'll take care of myself--never fear. and i'll take care of old brushy fox, too! ha! ha! ha! yes, i'll see what he's doing now. perhaps i shall catch him right away." and doctor rabbit slipped away in the direction in which brushtail had gone. an exciting chase you remember that doctor rabbit started out to find brushtail the fox and watch him. well, it was not long before brushtail was found, and it certainly was exciting for doctor rabbit to watch what happened. this is the way it happened. it was yappy who found brushtail. doctor rabbit was hopping along, looking for brushtail, when yappy came tearing through the woods and almost ran into brushtail. you see, brushtail saw yappy coming, but he thought yappy would pass by because he had not as yet smelled the trail. these things brushtail always knows. but yappy passed so close he smelled fox, and then brushtail certainly did have to jump and run. doctor rabbit just sprang up on the trunk of a fallen tree to watch the race. all of a sudden he saw farmer roe and his boy running toward yappy, and with them was another big dog which joined in the chase after brushtail. "it's a fox! a fox! it's that old fox!" shouted farmer roe's boy. "catch him, yappy! catch him! catch him!" the second big hound turned brushtail back so that he almost ran into farmer roe before he saw him. farmer roe threw a stick at brushtail but missed him. "catch him, yappy, catch him!" shouted farmer roe. "he'll steal all my hens if you don't." away they all ran after brushtail the fox--farmer roe and his boy yelling, and both hounds barking. "my!" exclaimed doctor rabbit as he sat on the fallen tree, "i certainly do hope they'll catch him!" and just at that moment it looked as if they _would_ catch brushtail. he was in such a great hurry that in trying to jump across a wide ditch in the woods he fell right into it. and yappy was almost upon him. "yappy's got him!" shouted farmer roe's boy. "yappy's got him!" but brushtail was not to be caught so easily. he sprang out of that hole in a flash, and away he ran like the wind. as doctor rabbit watched, brushtail ran out of sight in the woods, and the barking of the hounds and the voices of farmer roe and his boy sounded farther and farther away. doctor rabbit sat and waited, for he thought they might turn brushtail back and run him past the fallen tree. but after a while they seemed farther away than ever, and he could just barely hear yappy barking on the trail. doctor rabbit just sat still and waited. he knew that brushtail the fox was one of the slyest creatures in the woods, and he was pretty sure now that he would get away for this time at least. "i should not be surprised if he came sneaking back right around here. and still," doctor rabbit said hopefully, "yappy _may_ get him. i'll just wait for a time and see what does happen." several times as doctor rabbit sat there he heard a noise in the bushes near by and each time he looked quickly in that direction. but it must have been the wind blowing the leaves, for he did not see anything. once, however, doctor rabbit was really startled. a big woodrat ran through some dead leaves and made a good deal of noise. he stopped and looked at doctor rabbit and asked, "are you waiting for some one?" "yes," doctor rabbit replied, "i'm waiting for brushtail the fox; i'm expecting him any time." "brushtail the fox!" exclaimed the woodrat. "well, _i'm_ not going to wait for him!" and he hurried away as fast as he could. then doctor rabbit heard another noise. some creature was creeping through the bushes not far off. he was coming nearer, too. the big gray goose gets away doctor rabbit sat on the trunk of the fallen tree and never moved a muscle as he listened to the animal creeping through the thicket. every now and then it would stop, and there was not a sound; then it would move again, and all the time it kept coming nearer and nearer. doctor rabbit has a way of twitching his nose most of the time, but as he sat there he did not even move his nose. no, sir! he was as still as the tree trunk on which he sat. he kept his eyes right on the place from which the sounds of the creeping animal came. and then his heart gave a thump and beat very fast--for out of the thicket came old brushtail himself! he looked all about carefully, and then sat down panting, tired out from his long run. but after he was somewhat rested, brushtail got up and grinned. he looked out in the woods in the direction where yappy and the other hound were still running and barking. "ha! ha! ha!" brushtail chuckled softly. "they've lost my trail. i knew they would when i walked down the murmuring brook. well," he continued, "i'll just look around a bit for something to eat. perhaps i can find that big fat rabbit." it happened that brushtail started right for the fallen tree where doctor rabbit sat, and doctor rabbit was just about to spring off and run when something else happened. farmer roe's big gray goose came near. she was eating some tender green grass blades and never dreamed that a fox was near. but brushtail saw her and started creeping toward her. doctor rabbit could not bear to see that big gray goose gobbled up, so he shouted as loud as he could, "look out, gray goose! brushtail the fox is going to get you! he's coming! he's coming!" now, as you may know, a tame goose cannot fly very far, but many of them can fly a short distance, and fly fairly high too. the gray goose was terribly frightened, and instantly began flapping her great wings. she flew just high enough in the air so that brushtail missed him when he sprang. if the murmuring brook had not been near, that gray goose would surely have been caught, because, as i have said, she cannot fly very far; but as it was she managed to fly across the brook. then she came to the ground again and ran screaming and flapping her wings toward farmer roe's. she got out of the woods in a few moments and brushtail the fox did not catch her. now when doctor rabbit shouted, brushtail turned quickly and saw him, but knowing that he could not catch both of them, he sprang for the gray goose. but brushtail did not swim across murmuring brook. he knew it would take him too long, and he saw that he could not catch the gray goose after all. so he turned from the edge of the brook and started back after doctor rabbit. my, but brushtail was angry at doctor rabbit! "it was that big fat rabbit that made me miss my dinner!" snarled brushtail. "i saw him sitting on that fallen tree. it was he who warned that silly goose!" and brushtail ran swiftly to the fallen tree, and darted quickly all around it. he sprang into the near-by thickets and charged under some small brush piles. in fact, he raced around and hunted in every spot where he thought doctor rabbit might be hiding, and all the time he kept up an angry growl. "i'll get him; i'll get him," brushtail kept snarling. "i'll get that big fat rabbit if it takes me a week!" brushtail the fox finds the traps a few days after doctor rabbit had helped farmer roe's big gray goose to escape from brushtail the fox, doctor rabbit saw something that interested him greatly. farmer roe was working at something out in the woods. there was a briar patch near by, so doctor rabbit crept into this and watched. yes, sir! farmer roe was actually setting a trap, or rather, he was setting four traps. and he was surely arranging things so that if brushtail could ever be fooled at all he could be fooled here, or so it seemed, at least. farmer roe had chosen a low place in the woods, full of the finest white sand. he staked the traps and set them in the sand, and covered them all over with sand so that they could not be seen. then he dragged an old cow's head right in the center of the four traps. now, you see, it looked just as if some animal had been eating the cow's head and had left it right in that nice fine white sand. and if mr. fox should happen along, it looked as if he might try to go right up to that head. then he would be sure to step into one of those traps! well, all the rest of that day and most of the night doctor rabbit watched those traps and that cow's head. at last, far along in the night, he heard a noise in the bushes close by. the moon shone very brightly through the trees, and on that patch of white sand and the cow's head. a dark form came slipping out of the shadows and kept coming nearer. pretty soon doctor rabbit saw who it was. it was brushtail the fox. brushtail sniffed toward the cow's head and said, "well, well, fresh beef! this is pretty fine!" and he began walking around and around that cow's head. but he seemed a little suspicious, for he did not walk right up to the head. still, he kept getting closer and closer. and then, all of a sudden, he stumbled over something. "hello! what's this!" brushtail exclaimed. he dug around a little in the sand, then said, "oho, i see! it's a stake i stumbled over, and here is a chain and--why sure enough! there's a trap fastened to the chain. ha! ha! ha! no beef to-night, thank you! i'll just wait. perhaps some foolish animal will drag that head away and hide it. then i'll just help myself. sooner or later i'll get that head!" and brushtail trotted away. it was a queer procession! but he did not go far until he stopped and sniffed again in the direction of the cow's head. "my!" exclaimed brushtail, "that meat certainly does smell good, so good that i am almost tempted to go back and try to get it. but i'm afraid. i'll just wait as i said. and i'll get that cow's head as sure as anything." and laughing to himself because he believed he was so clever, brushtail stole softly away into the woods. well, brushtail _is_ clever, but some one else was just a bit cleverer, and that was doctor rabbit. getting together of course doctor rabbit was greatly disappointed when brushtail the fox discovered that there was a trap set in the sand, because he had thought surely brushtail would be caught. then, after brushtail had gone away, doctor rabbit suddenly thought of something. yes, sir! it came to him in an instant--a plan to get rid of brushtail the fox! and the plan was suggested to doctor rabbit by brushtail's remark, "perhaps some foolish animal will drag that head away and hide it. then i'll just help myself." well, as soon as it was daylight, doctor rabbit hurried right over to jack rabbit's, told him what his plan was, and brought jack rabbit back with him. then doctor rabbit hurried around through the big green woods telling his friends. he told stubby woodchuck, cheepy chipmunk, chatty red squirrel, frisky grey squirrel, robin-the-red, o. possum, busy blue jay, jim crow, and quite a number of others. he asked them all to come about the middle of the forenoon to the place where farmer roe had placed the cow's head, as he would need every one of them at about that time. immediately doctor rabbit and jack rabbit hurried away toward farmer roe's back lot. they squeezed under a board fence and began looking for something. "here it is!" doctor rabbit said, picking up a stout piece of rope that had been part of a clothes-line. "i knew it was in here somewhere," jack rabbit said, "for i saw it just yesterday." "now," said doctor rabbit, "let's go back to the woods and find that slim hickory tree that has a grapevine hanging from the top." they ran into the woods, and after a little search found the hickory. they hid the rope they had found and hurried over to the cow's head in the sand. there they found all the other little creatures. after a great deal of very careful work, doctor rabbit, jack rabbit, and o. possum managed to get the cow's head outside the circle of traps. then every one of doctor rabbit's friends helped to pull and push the cow's head. it was a queer procession! after quite a while they succeeded in pushing and pulling the cow's head to the slim hickory tree. doctor rabbit told them now to push it into a near-by thicket, and they did. fat o. possum exclaimed, "whew, i'm tired. now let's eat the head!" everybody but o. possum laughed at that, and doctor rabbit said, "no, brother possum, not just yet, but you are helping wonderfully, and tomorrow morning i think you can have this head all to yourself. i think we'll be rid of brushtail the fox by that time." doctor rabbit now grabbed hold of the grapevine that hung from the top of the hickory, and he and all his friends pulled and pulled until they bent the top of the hickory down to the thicket. then, while his friends held the tree-top down, doctor rabbit made a snare or loop of the rope he had found, and arranged it in the thicket so that if brushtail got to the cow's head he would have to step through the snare, or slip noose. finally, doctor rabbit tied the tree rather loosely to a small twig of the thicket and told his friends to step back carefully, because the least thing would make the tree fly up as it was before and take that snare with it. brushtail the fox discovers the cow's head doctor rabbit and all his friends stood back and watched to see whether the tree would fly back, but it did not. it held as firm and quiet as could be. "now," said doctor rabbit, "old brushy will come back to where that head was, and, seeing it gone, he will naturally think that o. possum or somebody has dragged it away. so brushtail will smell along the ground where we have dragged the head, and he will finally find it right here. i have hidden the noose in the thicket so that mister fox will not notice it, and he'll walk right in to get that head. in doing so, he'll put his head through that noose and pull on it, trying to get to the head. well, when mr. brushtail pulls, he'll break that slender twig that holds the tree down, because that twig is about ready to break as it is. then we'll see what'll happen!" "let's hurry away now," doctor rabbit added. "if foxy brushtail happened to see all of us here at once he might become suspicious. i'll come back soon and watch, and if anything happens i'll let all of you know at once." so away went stubby woodchuck and o. possum and all the others, talking quietly yet excitedly, and now and then laughing a little. they said they hoped brushtail would come soon, and they also said that something just told them away down deep in their hearts that brushtail was surely going to be caught this time. and all that day they could scarcely eat, they were so eager to know whether brushtail would get caught in that noose in the thicket. doctor rabbit hid not far from the cow's head and waited all day. then he went to supper and came quickly back. pretty soon night came, and the big round moon came up. along about midnight doctor rabbit heard a sound. pit-a-pat! pit-a-pat! pit-a-pat! some one was coming along slowly through the woods! then, as the form came nearer, doctor rabbit saw brushtail the fox trotting along with his sharp nose to the ground, smelling the trail where that cow's head had been dragged. well, sir, brushtail went right up to the thicket where the noose was. then he laughed and laughed and laughed. "well, well, well!" said brushtail. "i guess i'm just a little too smart for anybody around these woods. ha! ha! ha! it's just as i thought. that silly old fat possum or somebody has been foolish enough to walk right in among those traps that farmer roe set and drag that head up here. well, i'll just go on into this thicket and bring that head out and take charge of it myself. there's enough meat to last me several days." and brushtail started into the thicket. what happened to brushtail the fox when brushtail the fox started into the thicket to get the cow's head he never dreamed, of course, that there was anything there to catch him. so he plunged right into the thicket. _swish!_ up went that tall, slim hickory tree, and brushtail with it! you never heard such a yell as brushtail gave. he yelled so loudly that all the little creatures of the big green woods were awakened, and doctor rabbit did not have to call them. they all came running toward the place where the snare had been set. even jack rabbit, away out in the wide prairie, heard brushtail yell, and here came jack rabbit running as fast as he could. in a little time all the little creatures of the big green woods were there. now, you see, brushtail had put his front legs through that noose, so that it held him around the body just behind his fore legs. the rope did not hurt him much, although it pulled considerably. so he dangled up there and howled, while all the little creatures below shouted and danced for joy. of course, when brushtail saw all the little creatures come so quickly, he knew a trick had been played upon him, but he was too badly scared to be angry. i should say he was! he was about scared out of his wits when that tree jerked him up into the air, and he was about as badly scared now as ever, because he could not see how he was ever going to get down from there. "let me down! let me down! let me down!" brushtail shouted, clawing wildly at the air. "oh yes!" said doctor rabbit. "i suppose we'll let you down, foxy brushy. i suppose we know what you would do to us mighty quick if you caught us. yes, it's likely we'll let you down. ha! ha! ha!" and doctor rabbit and all his friends danced around under the tree and laughed and laughed. "i'll go out of these woods and never, never, never come back if you'll just let me down!" brushtail promised; and he really meant it. this was just what doctor rabbit was waiting to hear brushtail say. but doctor rabbit said, "we'll go over to my house for a little while and talk the matter over." and, with brushtail begging them to come back and let him down, they all hurried over to doctor rabbit's house in the big tree. when they were inside doctor rabbit seated them all in his best chairs. then he stood up and said, "my friends, i just wanted to have you all come over here and stay until morning. the fact is, that while brushtail is pretty badly scared, he is not hurt much yet, and we must hurt him, at least a little, or he may forget his promise and come back to our woods. by morning, however, i think he will have learned a lesson he never will forget, and i think he'll keep out." so they talked and had a good time at doctor rabbit's until morning. it was just daylight when they went back to the slim hickory. brushtail was still hanging there, and when he saw them how he did yell to be let down! "very well, brother brushy," doctor rabbit said, "we'll let you down, and if you ever come back into our woods again--" "oh," yelled brushtail before doctor rabbit could say another word, "i'll never, never, never come back if i can get down. i'd rather live on crickets and bugs all my life than to take chances." but brushtail did not say any more, because he wanted to get down right away. "o. possum," said doctor rabbit, "if you'll go up and gnaw that rope in two so that old brushtail can drop to the ground, you may have that cow's head all for yourself." "i'll do that," o. possum said, and he began climbing the tree. presently o. possum was above brushtail, and began gnawing the rope. "oh, dear me!" shouted brushtail after o. possum had gnawed for a time. "it's an awfully long way to the ground, i'm afraid!" and then o. possum got the rope gnawed right in two. _plunk_! brushtail struck the ground. well, sir, he got right up and started to run. he was so stiff he could not run well at first, but the farther he went the faster he ran. after he got across the murmuring brook he went away through the woods on the other side like a streak. i don't know of anything that could have scared brushtail and made him _stay_ scared as that snare did. brushtail the fox never came around the big green woods after that. doctor rabbit and his friends were certainly glad and happy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------the greenwoods series doctor rabbit and tom wildcat doctor rabbit and ki-yi coyote doctor rabbit and grumpy bear doctor rabbit and brushtail the fox doctor rabbit and slinky the black wolf doctor rabbit and old bill horned owl ---------------------------------------------------------------------transcriber's notes 1. punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. 2. "the greenwoods series" relocated from before title page to end of text. 3. "contents" and "illustrations" lists were not present in original text. 4. repeated word in original "did did" ("how they did begin"). [illustration: "run along, tommy fox," the squirrel said] sleepy-time tales the tale of tommy fox by arthur scott bailey illustrated by harry l. smith copyright, 1915, by a. s. bailey contents chapter i tommy enjoys himself ii johnnie green goes hunting iii tommy fox learns to hunt iv mother grouse's children v tommy fox is hungry vi mr. gray squirrel's mistake vii tommy chases mr. woodchuck viii something makes tommy very proud ix tommy fox in trouble x mrs. fox outwits dog spot xi tommy grows too careless xii old mr. crow is pleased xiii johnnie green and his new pet xiv tommy fox makes a strange friend xv johnnie green feels sad xvi tommy becomes boastful xvii paying a call on a friend xviii the world turns white xix tommy fox learns a new trick xx the drummer of the woods xxi the biggest surprise of all illustrations "run along, tommy fox," the squirrel said...... frontispiece a cloud of feathers floated down from the limb mr. woodchuck whisked down out of sight tommy dashed for the little door tommy thought it was his mother's voice mrs. fox and tommy started to run i tommy enjoys himself tommy fox was having a delightful time. if you could have come upon him in the woods you would have been astonished at his antics. he leaped high off the ground, and struck out with his paws. he opened his mouth and thrust his nose out and then clapped his jaws shut again, with a snap. tommy burrowed his sharp face into the dead leaves at his feet and tossed his head into the air. and then he jumped up and barked just like a puppy. if you could have hid behind a tree and watched tommy fox you would have said that he was playing with something. but you never could have told what it was, because you couldn't have seen it. and you may have three guesses now, before i tell you what it was that tommy fox was playing with. ... it was a feather! yes--tommy had found a downy, brownish feather in the woods, which old mother grouse had dropped in one of her flights. and tommy was having great sport with it, tossing it up in the air, and slapping and snapping at it, as it drifted slowly down to the ground again. he grew quite excited, did tommy fox. for he just couldn't help making believe that it was old mother grouse herself--and not merely one of her smallest feathers that he had found. and he leaped and bounded and jumped and tumbled about and made a great fuss over nothing but that little, soft, brownish feather. there was something about that feather that made tommy's nose twitch and wrinkle and tremble. tommy sniffed and sniffed at the bit of down, for he liked the smell of it. it made him feel very hungry. and at last he felt so hungry that he decided he would go home and see if his mother had brought him something to eat. so he started homewards. i must explain that tommy lived with his mother and that their house was right in the middle of one of farmer green's fields, not far from the foot of blue mountain. when tommy was quite small his mother had chosen that place for her house, which was really a den that she had dug in the ground. by having her house in the center of the field she knew that no one could creep up and catch tommy when he was playing outside in the sunshine. now tommy was older, and had begun to roam about in the woods and meadows alone. but mrs. fox liked her home in the field, and so she continued to live there. tommy was so hungry, now, and in such a hurry to reach home, that you might think that he would have gone straight toward his mother's house. but he didn't. he trotted along a little way, and suddenly gave a sidewise leap which carried him several feet away from the straight path he had been following. again he trotted ahead for a short distance. and then he wheeled around and ran in a circle. and after he had made the circle he jumped to one side once more, and ran along on an old tree which had fallen upon the ground. he was not playing. no!--tommy fox was just trying to obey his mother. ever since he had been big enough to wander off by himself she had told him that he must never go anywhere without making jumps and circles. "it takes longer," she said; "but it is better to do that way, because it makes it hard for a dog to follow you. if you ran straight ahead, farmer green's dog could go smelling along in your footsteps, and if he didn't actually catch you he could follow you right home and then we would have to move, to say the least." tommy was so afraid of dogs that he almost never forgot to do just as his mother told him. he was half-way home and passing through a clump of evergreens, when he suddenly stopped. the wind was blowing in his face, and brought to his nostrils a smell that made him tremble. it was not a frightened sort of tremble, but a delicious, joyful shiver that tommy felt. for he smelled something that reminded him at once of that feather with which he had been playing. and tommy stood as still as a statue and his sharp eyes looked all around. at first he could see nothing. but in a minute or two he noticed something on the ground, beneath one of the evergreen trees. he had looked at it carefully several times; and each time he had decided that it was only an old tree-root. but now he saw that he had been mistaken. yes! it was old mother grouse herself! ii johnnie green goes hunting when tommy fox discovered old mother grouse crouched beneath the evergreen tree he grew hungrier than ever. and he decided that he would catch mrs. grouse and eat her on the spot. tommy had never caught a grouse. but his mother had brought home some of old mother grouse's relations for him to eat; and tommy knew of nothing that tasted any better. he thought that old mother grouse must be sleeping, she was so still. and he did not mean to wake her if he could help it--at least, not until he had caught her. so tommy flattened himself out on his stomach and began to creep towards her, very slowly and very carefully. he didn't make the slightest noise. and soon he had stolen so close to old mother grouse that he was just about to spring up and rush upon her. then all at once there was the most terrible noise. it was almost as loud as thunder, and it seemed to tommy that the ground was rising right up in front of him. he was so startled that he fell over backward. and his heart thumped and pounded against his ribs. the next moment tommy fox felt very sheepish, for he realized that the noise was nothing but the beating of old mother grouse's wings against the air. and instead of the ground rising, it was old mother grouse herself who had jumped up and sailed away. she hadn't been asleep. she had seen him all the time. [illustration: a cloud of feathers floated down from the limb] and she had just waited until she saw that tommy was trying to catch her before she flew off. old mother grouse didn't fly far. she perched in a tree just a little way off and sat there and looked down at tommy fox and chuckled to herself. she knew that she was perfectly safe. and though tommy fox trotted up to the tree where she sat and stared longingly up at her she wasn't the least bit worried. for she knew quite well that tommy couldn't climb a tree. tommy felt very peevish. he was _so_ hungry! and he couldn't help thinking how good old mother grouse would have tasted. he couldn't reach her now. but still he didn't go along toward home. he simply couldn't keep his greedy eyes off fat old mother grouse! and he squatted down beside a bush and stared at her. old mother grouse didn't mind that. she just stared back at tommy fox; and she didn't say a word to him, which somehow made tommy still more peevish. how long tommy would have stayed there it would be hard to tell. but in a little while something happened that sent him home on the run. if mrs. grouse and tommy had been looking out as sharply as they generally did, farmer green's boy never could have crept up so close to them. but they were so busy staring at each other that they never saw farmer green's boy at all. now, johnnie green had his gun with him, for he was hunting grouse. he did not see tommy fox at all, because tommy was hidden behind the bush. but johnnie green saw old mother grouse; and almost as soon as he saw her he fired. the old shot-gun made a tremendous roar. the woods rang and echoed with the noise. and tommy fox saw a cloud of feathers float down from the limb where old mother grouse had been sitting. but old mother grouse herself flew away. the shot had knocked out some of her tail-feathers, but hadn't hurt her at all. it all happened very quickly. and tommy fox felt himself leaping high in the air. he was so frightened that he had jumped almost out of his skin. and he ran and ran, and ran faster than he had ever run before in all his rather short life. johnnie green saw him run. but his gun wasn't loaded now, and he couldn't shoot. and he didn't have his dog with him, either. it was lucky for tommy fox that there was no dog there. for tommy was so scared that he forgot all about jumping sideways, and running in circles, as his mother had taught him. he just ran straight for his home in the middle of the big field; and when he got there he scurried through the door and scampered inside; and he never came out again all that day. iii tommy fox learns to hunt tommy fox was hunting crickets in the field near his mother's house. being a young fox, not much more than half-grown, tommy knew very little of hunting. in fact, crickets were about the only thing he could hunt and _catch_. of course, any one can _hunt_. the hard part of it is to _catch_ what you are hunting. tommy was glad that he knew how to capture crickets, for he was very fond of them. to be sure, it took a great many crickets to satisfy his hunger. but they were good when he wanted a light lunch; and there was fun, too, in hunting them. this is the way tommy fox caught crickets. he would stand very still in the tall grass and watch sharply. wherever he saw the grass moving, tommy would pounce upon that spot, bringing his two front paws down tight against the ground. and in the bunch of grass that lay beneath his paws tommy almost always found a fat cricket. there was just one drawback about that kind of hunting. he could catch crickets only upon still days, when there was no wind; because when the wind blew, the grass waved everywhere, and tommy couldn't tell whether it was crickets or whether it was wind that made the grass move. well, upon this very day when tommy fox was amusing himself, and swallowing crickets as fast as he could grab them, his mother came out of her house and watched him for a little while. tommy was feeling quite proud of his skill. "i can hunt--can't i, mother?" he exclaimed. "watch me! i get them almost every time!" he boasted. mrs. fox did not answer. she was thinking deeply. she knew that there were a great many things she must teach her son, because he was growing up; and some day he would be leaving home to go out into the world and take care of himself. and mrs. fox knew that tommy would have to learn to catch bigger things than crickets in order to keep from starving. pretty soon mrs. fox started across the field. she was gone rather a long time. but she came back at last, carrying something that squirmed and twisted and wriggled. whatever it was that mrs. fox was bringing home, it was furry, and quite big and heavy. when tommy saw it he stopped hunting crickets at once. he knew what his mother had. it was a woodchuck! "hurrah!" he shouted. "i'm hungry! may i eat all of him i want?" you might think that he had swallowed so many crickets that he wouldn't want anything more to eat just then. but to tell the truth, it was very seldom that tommy fox wasn't hungry as a bear. "not so fast!" mrs. fox said. "i'm going to teach you to hunt. and you're to begin with this woodchuck. now i'm going to let him go, and you must catch him." so mrs. fox let the woodchuck slip away; and off he scampered, with tommy after him. mrs. fox followed close behind. and soon she saw tommy give a great spring and land right on top of the woodchuck. tommy was greatly excited. but he was hungry, too, "may i eat him now?" he asked. "no! let him go again," his mother commanded. "and see if you can catch him more quickly next time." tommy obeyed. and though he overtook the woodchuck sooner, he was not so careful to avoid the 'chuck's sharp teeth, and he got a savage nip right on his nose. tommy was surprised. he was so surprised that he dropped the woodchuck. and you may believe that mr. woodchuck lost no time. he scurried away as fast as his legs would carry him. tommy began to whimper. his nose hurt; and he thought he had lost his dinner, too. but mrs. fox bounded after mr. woodchuck and brought him back again. she made tommy stop crying. and he had to begin his lesson all over again. when mrs. fox thought that tommy had learned enough for that day they both sat down and made a meal of that unfortunate mr. woodchuck. and tommy felt that he had already become a mighty hunter. he hadn't the least doubt that he could go into the woods and catch almost anything he saw. we shall see later whether tommy fox knew as much as he thought he did. iv mother grouse's children the very next day after his first lesson in hunting, when his mother had brought home the live woodchuck, tommy fox went off into the woods alone. he had made up his mind that he would surprise his mother by bringing home some nice tidbit for dinner--a rabbit, perhaps, or maybe a squirrel. he wasn't quite sure _what_ it would be, because you know when hunting you have to take what you find--if you can catch it. tommy fox hadn't been long in the woods before he had even better luck than he had expected. he was creeping through a thicket, making no noise at all, when what should he see but that sly old mother grouse, with all her eleven children! they were very young, were old mother grouse's children; and they hadn't yet learned to fly. and there they were, all on the ground, with the proud old lady in their midst. tommy fox was so pleased that he almost laughed out loud. he tried to keep still; but he couldn't help snickering a little. and old mother grouse heard him. she started to fly. but instead of tearing off out of danger, she lighted on the ground quite near tommy. "how stupid of her!" he thought. "i'll just catch the old lady first, and then get the youngsters afterward. _they_ can't fly away." so tommy made a leap for old mother grouse. he just missed her. she rose in the nick of time and slipped away from him. but she didn't fly far. so tommy followed. and he stole up very slyly; and once more, when he was quite near the old lady, he sprang at her. it was really very annoying. for again old mother grouse just escaped. again she flew a little further away, lighted on the ground, and seemed to forget that tommy fox was so near. that same thing happened as many as a dozen times. and the twelfth time that mrs. grouse rose before one of tommy's rushes she didn't come down again. she lighted in a tree. and since it appeared to tommy that she had no intention of leaving her safe perch, he gave up in disgust. he was very angry because he hadn't caught old mother grouse. but there was her family! he would get _them_--the whole eleven of them! and he turned back toward the place where he had first come upon them. now, sly old mother grouse had played a trick on tommy fox. if he had just left her alone he could have caught every one of her children. but she had tempted him to follow her. and every time she rose from the ground and flew a short distance, she led tommy further away from her little ones. tommy had some trouble in finding the exact spot where he had stumbled upon mrs. grouse and her children. but he found it again, at last. and little good it did him; for not a trace of those eleven young grouse could he discover. they had all disappeared--every single one of them! _they_ knew what to do when their mother led tommy fox away. each of them found a safe hiding-place. some of them burrowed beneath the fallen leaves; some of them hid behind old stumps; some of them crept into a hollow log. and try as he would, tommy fox was unable to find so much as one downy feather. he was so disappointed--and so ashamed--that he went home and stayed there. but he had learned something. yes! tommy fox knew that if he ever met old mother grouse and her family again he would catch her children first. afterward he would try to capture the sly old lady herself. but he didn't believe, just then, that he would ever be able to catch her. you see, tommy realized that he wasn't quite so clever as he had thought. v tommy fox is hungry tommy fox kept a sharp look-out to see what he could capture to eat. but he could discover nothing at all. to be sure, there were birds in the trees, and birds' nests too, and tommy was very fond of birds' eggs. but he couldn't climb trees. the birds were out of his reach; and so were the squirrels. he saw plenty of red squirrels, and gray squirrels, and little striped chipmunks. they looked down from the branches and chattered and scolded at him. they were perfectly safe, and they knew it. tommy fox sat down to think. as i have said, he was hungry. and there is nothing that sharpens a fox's wits like hunger. he looked very innocent, as he rested under a big chestnut tree, and gazed up at a gray squirrel which was perched on a limb over his head. "run along, tommy fox," the squirrel said to him.--"there's no use of your staying here. i shan't come down until you're gone." tommy didn't say anything. he just whined a few times, and held his paw against his stomach. and he gave one or two groans. the gray squirrel came a little further down the tree and looked at tommy again. he wondered if tommy was ill. and then, when tommy stretched himself out on the ground and lay quite still the gray squirrel was sure that tommy fox had eaten something that hurt him. "what is it?" the squirrel inquired. tommy looked up and murmured something. the squirrel couldn't hear what he said, but he thought he caught the word _poison_. and he decided that tommy had probably devoured a poisoned chicken-head which farmer green had thrown out for him. i am afraid that the squirrel didn't feel very sorry. he didn't like tommy fox, for tommy was always trying to catch him. but if he wasn't sorry, he was curious. and he sat up on a low branch and looked at tommy for a long time. tommy fox never moved again. his eyes were shut; his beautiful red tail, with its white tip, lay limp on the ground; and his legs stuck out as stiff as pokers. mr. gray squirrel felt sure that tommy was very ill. he called and called to tommy. but he got no reply. and at last he decided that tommy must be dead. so he slipped down the tree to the ground, to get a better look. at first mr. gray squirrel stayed close to the tree, so that he could scamper up again in case he was mistaken. but tommy fox never moved an eyelash. and at last mr. gray squirrel grew quite bold. he edged closer to tommy. he had never been so near a fox before, and he was curious to see what he looked like. he stole up beside tommy and was just about to call to his friends in the next tree-top to come down, when he received the surprise of his life. as mr. gray squirrel watched, he thought he saw one of tommy fox's eyelids quiver. and a great fear seized him. had he been mistaken? was tommy fox playing dead? vi mr. gray squirrel's mistake mr. gray squirrel certainly was mistaken, when he thought that tommy fox was dead and came down out of the chestnut tree to look at him. tommy wasn't even ill. you remember that he was very hungry? and that he had not been able to find anything to eat? tommy could not climb the tree, where mr. gray squirrel sat. so the only thing left for him to do was to make mr. gray squirrel come down where _he_ was. that was what tommy fox was thinking about, when he sat there on his haunches and looked up so innocently at mr. gray squirrel. as tommy sat there a bright idea came to him. so he held his paw to his stomach and pretended to be ill. and as soon as he saw that mr. gray squirrel thought he was ill, tommy fell over on his side and made believe he was dead. though his eyes were shut tight, tommy's ears were so sharp that he could tell when mr. gray squirrel came down the tree. and he could hear him slowly picking his way nearer and nearer. tommy's nose was sharp, too, and he could smell mr. gray squirrel. he smelled so good that tommy couldn't help opening one eye the least bit, just to see him. that was when mr. gray squirrel noticed that his eyelid quivered. and tommy saw at once that mr. gray squirrel had caught that flicker of his eyelid, and that he was frightened. tommy knew then that he must act quickly. he jumped up like a flash. but quick as he was, mr. gray squirrel was even quicker. he reached the tree just ahead of tommy fox; and though tommy leaped high up the trunk, he was too late. mr. gray squirrel scrambled up the tree so fast that his big, bushy tail just whisked across tommy's face. and in another second he was safe in the tree-top, chattering and scolding, and calling tommy names. tommy fox felt very foolish. he realized that if he had jumped up without first opening his eye he would not have given mr. gray squirrel any warning; and then he would have caught the plump old fellow. but it was too late now. another time he would know better. and he sneaked off, to try the same trick on one of mr. gray squirrel's friends. it was no use. mr. squirrel followed him, jumping from one tree-top to another, and made a great noise, calling after him, and jeering at him, and telling all his friends about the mean trick tommy had tried to play on him. and to tommy's great disgust, an old crow high up in a tall tree heard the story, and haw-hawed loudly, he was so amused. he made such a racket that all the forest-people heard him; and tommy knew that there was no sense in trying to catch a squirrel around there _that_ day. he went down into the meadow and began hunting crickets. and though he didn't have as good a lunch as he wanted, probably he ate all that was good for him. vii tommy chases mr. woodchuck tommy fox went up into farmer green's back-pasture, which, lay even nearer blue mountain than the field where tommy and his mother lived. he skulked along among the rocky hummocks, and the old stumps which dotted the pasture thickly. his ears and his eyes and his nose were all alert to discover any small animal that might be stirring--especially his nose; for tommy could smell things when they were a long way off. tommy's mother had explained to him that he must always hunt with the wind blowing in his face; because then the breeze brought to him the scent of any animal that might be in front of him, whether it happened to be an animal that tommy was hunting, or some animal that was hunting _him_. in that way tommy would be able to know what was ahead of him, even if he couldn't see it. [illustration: mr. woodchuck whisked down out of sight] but if he were careless, and trotted along with the wind blowing _behind him_--ah! that was quite different. the other forest-people would all know he was coming, for then _they_ would be able to get tommy's scent. and some day, if he were so foolish as to go about with the wind at his back, some day he might stumble right onto a wildcat, or a dog, or a man, or some other terrible creature. well--tommy remembered all these things that his mother had told him. the wind blew fresh in his face. and to his delight all at once he smelled a woodchuck. there was no mistaking that savoury smell. it affected tommy very pleasantly--much as you are affected by catching a whiff of hot peanuts, or pop-corn, or candy cooking on the stove. tommy stole along very carefully. and as he peered around a stump he saw, not ten jumps ahead of him, a fine, fat woodchuck. tommy crept up a little closer; and then he sprang for mr. woodchuck with a rush. pudgy mr. woodchuck saw tommy just in time. he turned tail and ran for his life; and he was so spry, though he was quite a fat, elderly gentleman, that he reached his hole and whisked down out of sight just as tommy was about to seize him. tommy was disappointed. but he was determined to get that woodchuck, and he began to dig away at mr. woodchuck's hole. you see, mr. woodchuck was smaller than tommy fox, and since the underground tunnel that led to his home was only big enough to admit _him_, tommy was obliged to make it larger. though mr. woodchuck's hole was under a shady oak tree, tommy found digging to be somewhat warm work, so he took off his neat, red coat and hung it carefully upon a bush. he worked very hard, for he was eager to find mr. woodchuck. in fact, the further tommy dug into the ground the more excited he grew. and he had just decided that he had almost reached the end of the tunnel, and that a little more digging would bring him inside of mr. woodchuck's house, when he met with an unexpected check. to tommy's dismay, mr. woodchuck's tunnel led between two roots of the big oak, and tommy could not squeeze between them. he reached his paws through the narrow opening and crowded his nose in as far as it would go. but that was all he could do. he did not doubt that somewhere in beyond, in the darkness, mr. woodchuck was having a good laugh because tommy had done all that work for nothing. i am sorry to say that tommy fox lost his temper. he called after mr. woodchuck. yes--he shouted some rather bad names after him. but of course that didn't do a bit of good. and tommy fox put on his coat and went home to think about what he could do. he didn't care to ask his mother's advice, because he didn't want her to know that mr. woodchuck had got away from him. but he hoped to find some way in which he could catch the old gentleman. viii something makes tommy very proud tommy fox could think of nothing but mr. woodchuck. he thought there could be no use in going back to the hole beneath the big oak in the pasture until the next day, because mr. woodchuck would probably be afraid that tommy was waiting for him to come out. yes--tommy decided that mr. woodchuck would stay in his house down among the roots of the big tree and not show himself again until he felt quite sure that his enemy had grown tired of watching and had given up the idea of catching him. but tommy guessed that by another day old mr. woodchuck would be so hungry that he would have to go out of doors again to get something to eat. and tommy fox could hardly wait for the night to pass. but another day came at last; and it found tommy up and hurrying to farmer green's back-pasture, where mr. woodchuck lived. it was just growing light; and there was a heavy dew upon the grass, which tommy didn't like at all, because he just hated to get his feet wet. tommy did not go near mr. woodchuck's hole. although he was just a young fox, he was too wise to do that. he knew that if he went nosing around mr. woodchuck's dooryard the old gentleman would smell his tracks as soon as he poked his head out. so tommy was careful to keep away from the hole where he had dug so hard the day before. he sneaked around until he had passed mr. woodchuck's house; and then he crept up behind the big oak close by. and there he waited. tommy kept smiling. he was _so_ pleased, because his plan was working out very well. the wind blew towards him, and tommy saw that mr. woodchuck wouldn't be able to smell him when the old fellow came up into the open air. for a long time tommy waited there. he kept very still. and he stayed hidden behind the tree, with only one eye peeping round the tree-trunk, so that he could watch for mr. woodchuck. he was very patient--was tommy. you have to be patient, you know, when you are hunting. he crouched behind the tree for at least an hour, and never once took his eye off that hole. and at last he saw mr. woodchuck's nose come popping out. if tommy hadn't been watching very closely he wouldn't have seen it at all; for mr. woodchuck just stuck his head up for a second, took one quick look all around, and jumped back again. he hadn't seen anything to frighten him. but he thought it best to be very careful. tommy waited. and pretty soon that small nose came sticking out again. this time it stayed longer. and to tommy's great delight, in another minute he saw mr. woodchuck climb up and take a good look all about. tommy fox hardly breathed. he didn't see how the old gentleman could help spying him. but he didn't. and then mr. woodchuck started off across the pasture, to find something for breakfast. he was very hungry, for he hadn't had any supper the night before. tommy fox waited until mr. woodchuck had gone just a few steps away from his doorway. and then tommy stole after him. this time tommy was between mr. woodchuck and his house. and mr. woodchuck couldn't escape. it was all over in a second. and tommy fox felt very proud of himself when he reached home and showed his mother what he had brought. "i can hunt--can't i, mother?" he said. "to-morrow i'm going up on the mountain and catch a bear." "don't be silly," mrs. fox said. "you know you couldn't catch a bear." but she was much pleased, in spite of what she said. for she saw that tommy was really beginning to learn something. ix tommy fox in trouble a few days after tommy fox caught old mr. woodchuck, something happened that set him thinking. perhaps i should say _"a few nights"_ instead of _"days."_ for one night his mother came home with a fat hen slung across her shoulders. she had been down to farmer green's hen-house, right in the middle of the night, when farmer green and his family were asleep; and she had snatched one of the sleeping hens off the roost and stolen away with it without waking anybody. only a very wise old fox could do that. "you mustn't go near farmer green's hen-house," mrs. fox said to tommy, as they picked the bones of the fat hen together. "you are not old enough to get one of farmer green's hens." you notice that mrs. fox didn't speak of _"stealing"_ a hen. she called it "getting" one. for foxes believe that it is only fair to take a farmer's hen now and then, in return for killing field-mice and woodchucks, which eat the farmer's grain. but the farmer never stops to think of that. he only thinks of the hens that he loses. tommy fox never said a word while his mother was talking to him. he was very busy, eating. but that was not the only reason why he kept still. he heard his mother's warning, but he thought she was silly. he really believed that he was quite old enough and quite big enough and quite wise enough to go down to farmer green's and get a hen himself. after catching old mr. woodchuck tommy felt that he was able to do about everything his mother could do. and he made up his mind right then and there that he would show her. he would pay a visit to the hen-house that very night. tommy fox could not wait for night to come. in fact, he could wait only until the close of day--he was in such a hurry to capture a hen. the sun had scarcely sunk out of sight in the west and the sky was still red, when he crept slyly up to farmer green's hen-house. tommy had heard that farmer green went to bed very early, after working hard in the fields each day. and since he saw nobody stirring about the place he thought that everyone was asleep. the hens were asleep. there was no doubt of that. peeping inside their little house, tommy could see them roosting in rows. and he lost no time in squeezing through one of the small doors. he felt a bit timid, once he was inside. and for a moment he almost wished that he hadn't come. but he was determined to take a hen home with him; so he reached up and grabbed the very first hen he came to, on the lowest perch of all. it was a big, old, white hen that tommy fox seized. she awoke the moment he touched her, and began to squall. and to tommy's alarm, all the rest of the hens heard her and began to cackle loudly. the noise was deafening. and tommy made a dash for the little door, with old mrs. white hen in his mouth. she was flapping her wings and kicking as hard as she could. and tommy was dismayed to find that he could not get her through the narrow door. every time he tried to push through, one of mrs. white hen's legs, or a wing, or her head, struck against the edge of the doorway. then a dog barked. and tommy heard something running around the chicken-house. he just knew that it was a man. and he dropped the old hen in a hurry and slipped through the door. he was just in time. he heard a man shout, "after him, spot!" and giving one frightened glance over his shoulder, tommy saw that farmer green's dog was close behind him. x mrs. fox outwits dog spot poor tommy fox! how he wished that he had obeyed his mother, and kept away from farmer green's hen-house! now farmer green's dog spot was chasing him. tommy could hear him baying joyfully as he followed. but you may be sure that tommy was not joyful. he was terribly frightened. he could think of nothing to do except to run, run, run! as fast as he could go. he was headed straight for home, and he only hoped that he would get there before the dog spot caught him. now, tommy was doing just about the worst thing he could do. he never once jumped sideways, or ran around in a circle. and though he might have waded a little way in the shallow brook in the meadow, where spot would have lost his trail, tommy used the bridge to get across the stream; so the dog spot had no trouble at all in following him. and spot kept drawing nearer and nearer. it happened that mrs. fox heard the baying of the dog. and she knew what spot was saying. he was crying--"i've almost got him! i've almost got him!" a shiver passed over mrs. fox; for she thought at once of tommy. he was not at home, and she wondered if by any chance he was in trouble. she hurried through the field to see who it was that spot was chasing. and sure enough! pretty soon mrs. fox saw tommy come tearing through the field, panting hard, with his tongue hanging out, and a most frightened look upon his face. [illustration: tommy dashed for the little door] mrs. fox hastened to meet him. the dog spot was then on the other side of a low hill, and running along with his nose to the ground. "jump!" mrs. fox said to tommy, as soon as he joined her. tommy remembered, then, what his mother had always told him. so he gave a long leap to one side. "now make a big circle, and jump again. then go home!" that was all mrs. fox had time to say. she stopped just long enough to see tommy dash off; and then she started right in the opposite direction. the dog spot saw her and gave a yelp of delight. he did not know what had been happening. he only thought that now he was going to catch the fox, which was the stupidest fox he had ever chased, running as it did, straight away, with never a leap or a circle, or any other sort of trick to fool him. little did spot guess that old mrs. fox had not the slightest idea of being caught. she had been followed by spot himself many times; and she knew exactly how to escape him. she just lingered for a few moments, to make sure that tommy was safe, and that spot was chasing _her_. and then how she did run! in no time at all she left spot far behind. now, mrs. fox knew that there was a ploughed field nearby, and that was just what she wanted. she scampered towards it at great speed and went straight across it. and when she had reached the other side of the ploughed ground she sat down for a short breathing spell. you see, mrs. fox was very wise indeed. she knew that in dry weather, such as there was then, a ploughed field takes no scent at all. she knew that when spot reached that loose dirt spot could not smell her footsteps. and so she just sat there on her haunches, and caught her breath again. a grim smile crossed mrs. fox's face as she heard spot barking away in the distance. it was a very different bark from what she had heard when he was chasing tommy. this time spot was saying, "oh, dear! oh, dear! i've lost him!" over and over again. when mrs. fox reached home she found tommy safe inside their house. he was crying, because he was afraid he would never see his mother again. and after his mother found out how spot had happened to chase him, tommy cried some more--but for an entirely different reason. who can guess what the reason was? xi tommy grows too careless by the time summer was nearly over, tommy fox was much bigger than he had been in the spring. so many things had happened, and he had learned so much, that he began to be quite bold. and he had grown so saucy that his mother often had to scold him. tommy had fallen into the bad habit of going about calling all the forest-people names; and in that way he had gained for himself the ill-will of all the creatures who lived near the foot of blue mountain. it interfered with his hunting, because whenever he started out to get something to eat, as soon as they saw him the forest-people told one another that he was coming. old mr. crow especially was the worst of all. he was forever calling "stop, thief!" after tommy fox; and then he would haw-haw in a manner that was frightfully annoying. in fact, he made matters so unpleasant that after a time tommy began to roam far down the valley, along swift river, where he tried to catch fish. the fish, at least, couldn't call him names, and there was some satisfaction in that fact, even if he hadn't much luck as a fisherman. and just for excitement tommy began to worry farmer green's spot. he delighted in barking at spot. and spot would always stop what he was doing and rush pell-mell after tommy fox. then tommy would skip away with a laugh. first he always ran for the river, and jumped from one stone to another, and waded where the water was shallow. then he would dash off through the meadows, leaving so crooked a trail behind him that when spot at last found the place where tommy had left the river, he never could follow him very far. but one day tommy stumbled upon spot quite by accident. there was no wind at all that day, to bring any scent to tommy's sharp nose. and he suddenly found that spot was right in front of him, between him and the river. tommy fox turned and ran. he laughed, too; because he felt quite sure that he could outwit old spot. and he leaped and twisted and turned about, and made so many circles, that he felt sure spot couldn't follow him. yes--tommy felt so safe that he stopped running and was trotting slowly along through the field in which he lived. he was almost home, when he heard a noise behind him. he looked around and to his great surprise there was spot almost upon him. there was no time to lose. there was only one thing tommy could do. the door of his mother's house was only a short distance off and tommy made for it. luckily, he managed to reach it. once inside, he could hear the dog spot barking in the opening. but he knew that spot was too big to follow him. although tommy was very glad to be safe at home, he was worried. for now spot know where he and his mother lived; and they would have to move. tommy was afraid his mother would be very angry with him for being so stupid as to let spot follow him. but he couldn't help it now. meanwhile, old spot continued to bark, and scratch at the door of tommy's home. but at last he stopped. and all was still. tommy wondered where his mother was. she was not at home. and he wanted to see her, even if he was afraid that she would punish him. for tommy did not know exactly what to do. he did not dare go out for fear spot might be lying in wait for him. so tommy stayed there. and still his mother did not come home. he wondered where she could be. xii old mr. crow is pleased there was a very good reason why mrs. fox did not come home that day when the dog spot chased tommy fox into his house. she had heard old spot barking in the field and she had hurried toward home as fast as she could, to see what was the matter. to her great dismay, when she leaped up on the stone-wall not far from her house mrs. fox could see spot scratching at her door. and she guessed at once that he had driven tommy inside. the poor old lady hardly knew what to do. but she hid in the grass, hoping that spot would grow tired of his task and go home. but old dog spot kept up a great barking. he howled so loudly that they heard him way off at the farm-house; and mrs. fox nearly wept when she saw farmer green and his boy johnnie come hurrying across the fields. pretty soon johnnie green returned to the farm-house; and when he came back mrs. fox could see that he carried a steel trap. for a short time johnnie and his father busied themselves at her doorway. and then they went away, calling old dog spot after them. after they had gone, mrs. fox stole sadly across the field to the home she had liked so well. she knew that she could live there no longer in peace and quiet. yes--she would have to move. and now the first thing to be done was to get tommy safely out of the house. mrs. fox reached her door-yard. and there she paused. there was no trap to be seen, anywhere. but the path leading to her door was sprinkled thick with fresh earth; and wise old mrs. fox knew that hidden underneath it, somewhere, lay that cruel trap, with its jaws wide open, waiting to catch her if she stepped between them. she crept as close to her door as she dared, and called softly to tommy. i don't need to say that her son was delighted to hear his mother's voice. he poked his nose out of the hole at once. and he would have jumped out and fallen right into the trap if his mother had not warned him. "don't come out!" she cried sharply, "there's a trap here, beneath this dirt. now, do just as i tell you, or you'll be caught!" tommy fox was frightened. for once, at least, he believed, that his mother knew more than he did. and he didn't dare move, except when she ordered. he didn't dare put a foot down except where she told him to. tommy had taken several careful steps, and his mother had begun to think that he was almost safely past the trap, when a very unfortunate thing happened. tommy was just about to set one of his front feet down upon a spot that his mother had pointed out to him, when somebody suddenly called, "stop, thief!" tommy fox was so startled that he gave a quick jump. _snap!_ went the trap. and though tommy sprang up into the air, he was just too late. the trap closed tightly across the tips of his toes. it was only one foot that was caught; but that was enough. he could not get away--no matter how hard he pulled. it was old mr. crow who had called "stop, thief!" he was laughing now. his "haw-haw! haw-haw!" could be heard plainly enough, as he flapped away in great glee, to tell all the forest-people that tommy fox would trouble them no more. xiii johnnie green and his new pet tommy fox was in a terrible fix. he was caught fast by the foot in a trap; and if that isn't being in a fix, i should like to know what is. all night long he whimpered and cried. all night long he tugged and pulled, trying to get free. but the more he tugged the more the trap hurt his foot. and the harder he cried. mrs. fox couldn't help tommy at all. she stayed with him throughout the night, and tried to comfort him. and she only left when morning came and she smelled men coming across the fields. then, with one last sorrowful look at tommy, she crept sadly away. in a few minutes more farmer green and his boy johnnie reached mrs. fox's door. and they were both greatly pleased when they saw that the trap had done its work so well. "it's a young cub," farmer green said, as soon as he spied tommy fox. "may i have him, father?" johnnie asked quickly. "i'd like him for a pet." tommy fox was terribly frightened when he heard that. you see, he didn't know what a "pet" was. he thought that probably it was something like a stew, for he had been told that people ate things like that; and he could see himself, in his mind's eye, being cut up and tossed into a pot. "a pet, eh?" said farmer green. "well, i suppose so. he's hardly worth skinning. you may have him, i guess. but look out that he doesn't bite you." johnnie green was delighted. he helped his father put tommy into an old sack, and taking the trap too, they started toward the farm-house. when they reached farmer green's home johnnie and his father fitted a stout collar about tommy's neck. and they fastened one end of a chain to it; and the other end they tied to a long stake, which they drove into the ground in farmer green's door-yard. then johnnie green set a big wooden box close beside the stake. he tipped the box over on its side, and threw some straw into it. and that was tommy fox's new home. you might think that it was a much nicer home than he had before. but tommy did not like it at all. all the people on the farm came and looked at him, inside the box; and johnnie green never left him for more than ten minutes all the rest of that day. tommy made up his mind that he would make a house of his own. and that very night he dug a hole in farmer green's dooryard, where he could crawl out of sight of everyone. tommy liked that much better. no matter how hard johnnie green pulled on the chain, he couldn't drag tommy out unless he wanted to come. but after a few days tommy began to get used to being a pet. he found that it was not such a terrible thing, after all. he did miss the fine runs he used to have; and the hunts; and he missed his mother, too. he could hear her often, at night, calling to him from the fields. and then tommy would answer, and tug at his chain. but he couldn't get away. and after a while he would go to sleep and dream pleasant dreams, about catching crickets in the long grass. xiv tommy fox makes a strange friend there was one thing, especially, that surprised tommy fox. and i think it surprised the dog spot even more. tommy and spot became friends. at first, whenever spot came near, tommy would run into his hole, as far as his chain would allow him. but after a time he began to peep out at his visitor. and finally he grew so bold that when spot came to see him he stayed above ground, though to be sure he sat close to the door of his house, so that he could whisk out of sight if spot should come too near him. since spot often came to look at johnnie green's new pet, he began to like tommy. and instead of growling, he would wag his tail, and try to be friendly. and the first thing they knew, they were playing together, and rolling and tumbling about, pretending to bite each other. now, spot was much bigger than tommy fox, and stronger. and sometimes when they played together he would get so rough that tommy would run down into his underground house and hide. but he never lost his temper, because he knew that spot did not mean to hurt him. and tommy was always ready to come out again and play some more. johnnie green was very proud of his new pet. and one day when he was going to drive to the village he took tommy fox with him. he tied tommy's chain to the wagon and tommy sat up on the seat beside his young master. he had a fine ride. it frightened him at first, to see so many people, for it was market-day, when the farmers for miles around came to the village to sell their butter and eggs and vegetables. there was a great number of dogs, too, running about the village streets. tommy was glad that he was high up on the seat of the wagon, beside johnnie green, for he knew that he was perfectly safe there. he saw so many strange sights that after that first day whenever he saw johnnie starting off for the village he was never satisfied unless he went too. on the whole, tommy fox did not have a bad time, being johnnie green's pet. and although farmer green often complained that johnnie would rather play with his young fox than drive the cows, or feed the chickens, or fetch water from the pump, still farmer green himself rather enjoyed watching tommy fox. but at last something happened that made farmer green very angry. one morning he discovered that a fine hen had disappeared during the night. and the following night another hen vanished. farmer green was puzzled. old spot had been loose all the time, and he had never barked once. that was what made farmer green suspicious. farmer green went out into his door-yard, where tommy fox was basking in the sunshine. tommy looked up at farmer green very innocently. you would have thought he had never done anything wrong in all his life. farmer green began to examine the ground about tommy's house. he didn't find anything unusual. but when he knelt down and peered into the hole tommy fox had dug for himself, what should he see but several hen-feathers! that was enough for farmer green. he knew then where his fat hens had gone. but he was puzzled. there was tommy, chained fast to the stake. how could he ever have visited the hen-house? farmer green picked up tommy's chain. and to his surprise he found that the end of it wasn't fastened to the stake at all! it had worked loose, somehow. and tommy had been free to wander about as much as he pleased. xv johnnie green feels sad yes--there was trouble when farmer green discovered that tommy fox had been stealing his hens. he fastened the end of tommy's chain to the stake once more. and then he went out to the barn, where his boy johnnie was watering the horses. "we'll have to kill that fox," he said to johnnie. "he's got loose, somehow, and he's stolen two hens. i can't have him on the place any longer. he's made friends with old spot and the dog will let him do anything he likes." poor johnnie green! he felt so sad! and he begged his father not to kill tommy. but fanner green was very angry with tommy. [illustration with caption: tommy thought it was his mother's voice] "no!" he said. "that cub's so tricky there's no knowing when he'll get loose again." but johnnie begged so hard that his father promised that he might keep tommy one more day. johnnie green was in despair. he could not bear to have his pet killed. and when he went to bed that night he never fell asleep at all. he was very tired; but he managed to keep awake. and in the middle of the night johnnie got out of bed and put on his clothes. he didn't dare to light his candle. but the moonbeams streamed in through his little gable-window and johnnie could see very well without any other light. as soon as he was dressed johnnie stole down the stairs, carrying his shoes in his hand, so he wouldn't make any noise. in spite of all his caution, the old stairs would creak now and then. but luckily nobody heard him; and soon johnnie was out of the house. he found tommy fox wide awake, sitting on his haunches in the moonlight, listening. far away in the distance a fox was barking and tommy thought it sounded like his mother's voice. tommy was surprised to see johnnie green at that hour. and he was astonished when johnnie untied the chain from the stake and started away with him. they went off across the fields, toward blue mountain, right in the direction of that barking. the meadows smelled sweet; and tommy fox began to wish that he could slip his head out of his collar and scamper away. and that was exactly what happened. after they had gone some distance, johnnie green stopped. he unbuckled tommy's collar, and gave tommy a push. at first tommy was not quite sure that he wanted to leave his good master. but there was that fox, yelping and calling. something seemed to draw tommy toward that sound. he just couldn't help himself. and the first thing he knew he was bounding off over the meadow running as fast as his legs would carry him, and barking as loudly as he could bark. johnnie green went slowly home again. he crept into the house and stole upstairs, and cried himself to sleep. but he was glad of one thing. tommy fox would not be killed the next morning. xvi tommy becomes boastful when johnnie green turned tommy fox loose, out in the meadow, in the moonlight, tommy hurried across the fields as fast as he could go. you remember that he heard a fox barking, near the foot of blue mountain, and he thought it sounded like his mother. so tommy barked, too. and as he ran he could hear that other fox coming towards him. pretty soon they met, and such a joyful meeting you never saw in all your life. for it _was_ old mrs. fox. and she was so delighted to see tommy that she licked him all over with her tongue, and looked at him carefully, to see if he was hurt anywhere. mrs. fox had never expected to see tommy again. but there he was, bigger than ever, and altogether _too_ fat, for johnnie had fed him well; and then, there were those two hens that tommy had stolen. tommy fox was very glad indeed to see his mother once more. he frisked about her, and yelped, and jumped up and down. and when she saw that tommy had come back safe and sound mrs. fox danced a little bit, too. and then she took tommy home. you remember that when farmer green caught tommy in a trap, right at the door of his mother's house, mrs. fox had been obliged to move. her new home was not far away from the old one. it was snug and cozy, and on the whole was a pretty nice sort of house, though the dooryard was not quite so sunny as she would have preferred, for the branches of a big tree shaded it. tommy had to answer a great many questions. his mother wanted to know everything that had happened to him. she was astonished when she found that he had been in the village, right in the daytime. he was the only fox she knew of who had ever been there. and when she heard of tommy's friendship with the dog spot mrs. fox was more surprised than ever. she couldn't understand it. and she shook her head over and over again as tommy told her what good times he and spot had had together. mrs. fox actually began to think that tommy was telling stories. the other forest-people, too, thought that tommy was fibbing when he bragged about his strange adventures. and old mr. crow began to cry "stop, liar!" after him, instead of "stop, thief!" as he used to do. but tommy fox didn't mind that very much. he knew that he was telling the truth. and he more than half guessed that old mr. crow was jealous of him, because he had so many wonderful things to tell. though the forest-people always listened to tommy's stories, they disliked him more than ever. for he was always going about boasting of what he had seen, and what he had done, and what _his_ friend, the dog spot, said. "if you're such good friends with old dog spot, why don't you go down to the farm-yard and see him?" mr. crow said to tommy one day. this was long after tommy had come back to live with his mother. in fact, it was quite late in the fall, and the weather was growing cold. "all right! i will!" tommy said. he was not going to let old mr. crow get the better of him. "i'll go now," tommy said. and with that he started down the valley toward farmer green's buildings. xvii paying a call on a friend mr. crow had dared tommy fox to go down to pay a call on his friend dog spot, at farmer green's place. and tommy was trotting along across the fields. he was quite near farmer green's house when he heard a dog bark not far away. "there's spot now!" tommy said to himself. and he turned at once in the direction of the barking. he was smiling, for he knew spot would be greatly pleased to see him, and very much surprised, too. tommy stole slyly up toward the place where the dog was barking. the sound came from beyond some bushes. and tommy thought he would jump out from behind the bushes and startle spot. so he crept up to the bushes and then suddenly gave a yelp and leaped clean over them. it was tommy fox himself who got the surprise. for there was a strange dog! and as soon as he saw tommy he sprang after him. tommy did not wait a second. he left that place a great deal faster than he came. and as he went skimming over the fields, a red streak against the brown stubble, he could hear mr. crow laughing heartily. the old fellow had sailed along high over tommy's head, to see what happened; and he was greatly pleased with himself. you see, he knew that farmer green's hired man had brought home a new dog just a few days before, and mr. crow hoped that if tommy went to the farm-yard he would meet the strange dog. tommy was very angry. he saw at once that old mr. crow had tricked him and he made up his mind that if he ever had a chance he would get even with the old gentleman. but now he had no time to think about that. there was that strange dog, following hot on his trail. tommy had quite enough to worry him, without bothering his head over mr. crow just then. now, even if tommy fox was conceited, he was really a very bright youngster. and as he bounded along he thought of a pretty clever scheme. yes, he thought of a fine trick to play on that dog. the idea came to him all at once. and as soon as the thought popped into his head, tommy turned toward swift river. he was at the bank in no time, and he skipped nimbly down to the river's edge. tommy fox could see no water at all running in swift river. and you might think he was disappointed. but he wasn't. he found exactly what he had hoped for. he could see no water running, down there in the bed of the river, because _the river was covered with ice._ it was just a thin shell of ice; but it was strong enough to bear tommy's weight. he ran across it quickly. and then what do you suppose he did? he sat right down on the opposite bank! tommy fox wanted to see the fun. he had to wait only a minute. for pretty soon the strange dog came rushing down the opposite bank of the river and leaped far out from the edge of the stream. there was a crash, and a splitting, crackling noise! and the strange dog was floundering in the cold water. the ice was not thick enough to hold him up, and he had hard work to scramble back to the bank again. but he climbed out of the water at last, and tucked his tail between his legs and made off. old mr. crow saw what happened. he stopped laughing. and he sailed away silently, thinking that tommy fox was a pretty smart young cub, after all. xviii the world turns white after he outwitted the strange dog, tommy fox became more of a braggart than ever. he thought that he knew just about all there was to know. but with the coming of winter tommy found that he had many things to learn. it was almost like living in a different world, for the ground was white everywhere. and though tommy fox loved to play in the snow, he discovered one thing about it that he did not like at all. it frightened him when he saw how plainly his footprints showed after a fresh snow-fall. and he wondered how he would ever be able to escape being caught, should any strange dog chase him. as the winter days passed, tommy learned that it was very hard for him to run fast in a light, dry snow--that through such snow a dog could run much faster than he could. but when there was a thin crust he could go skipping along like the wind, while dogs, being heavier, broke through the crust and floundered about in the softer snow beneath. one day tommy and his mother were out hunting. the snow was very deep everywhere, for it was mid-winter. and it had thawed and frozen so often that the snow was quite hard, except for just about an inch of fresh snow which had fallen during the night. tommy and his mother could see rabbit tracks all around them; and they had very good luck hunting. but something happened that wasn't exactly lucky. they had turned toward home, when a dog bayed somewhere behind them, and pretty soon mrs. fox saw that they were being followed. she and tommy started to run. and tommy saw that there was one more bad thing about winter. swift river, and all the little brooks, were covered with thick ice and there was no chance at all for him and his mother to run through shallow water and throw the dog off their scent. it was that strange dog that was chasing them--the one that belonged to farmer green's hired man. he was a very fast runner, and in spite of the usual tricks that foxes know, mrs. fox and tommy could not lose him. tommy began to be frightened. and old mrs. fox herself was somewhat worried. but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. she didn't intend to let that dog catch them if she could help it. [illustration with caption: mrs. fox and tommy started to run] "oh, mother! whatever shall we do?" tommy said. "do you think we can get away from him?" "of course," mrs. fox answered. "but you must do just as i tell you. now, follow right in my tracks, and don't be frightened, i'm going to show you a new trick--one that my own mother taught me when i was no older than you are." mrs. fox turned to the right and started back across the valley. she was going straight toward swift river. "oh, dear!" tommy cried. "don't you know that the river is frozen solid, mother? the dog can follow us across it, as easy as anything." "stop fussing!" mrs. fox said, looking over her shoulder at tommy. "we're not going to the river. you just mind me and you'll see, in a few minutes, that we can fool that dog." and she kept on running, with tommy right at her heels. xix tommy fox learns a new trick now, there was a road that ran through the valley, along the bank of swift river. and when mrs. fox reached it, with tommy close behind her, she turned again--this time to the left--and ran along in the beaten track which the horses and sleighs had made. tommy fox thought it very strange that his mother should lead him to the road, where they were sure to find people driving. tommy followed her. but he was very unhappy. they swung into the road just ahead of a farmer, who was driving along in a sleigh. the sleigh-bells tinkled merrily as the horse trotted smartly down the road. but the jingling of the bells did not sound at all pleasant to tommy fox. it only frightened him all the more. the farmer in the sleigh did not see tommy and his mother, for the snow rose high on both sides, and the road wound in and out. little did he know that mrs. fox and tommy were scampering along in front of him. of course, he couldn't catch them, anyhow. tommy knew that much. but if they ran very far down the road they would be sure to meet some other man. to tommy it seemed bad enough to have that dog chasing them, without going where they were sure to find other enemies. tommy could hear the dog baying. and he knew dogs well enough to know that that dog felt very sure he was going to catch them. but pretty soon tommy heard the dog talking in a very different fashion. he gave a number of short barks, which meant that he was in trouble. mrs. fox looked over her shoulder and smiled at tommy. she knew that they were safe. she knew that the dog had not reached the road until the farmer had driven right over their footsteps and spoiled their scent. after the horse had passed over their trail the dog could smell only the horse's footprints, instead of theirs. and mrs. fox could tell what was happening back there in the road. she knew just exactly as well as if she had been there herself--she knew that the dog had stopped short, and was running all around, with his nose to the ground, trying to find where she and tommy had gone. but he never found out. you see, he wasn't half as clever as mrs. fox. it never once occurred to him that tommy and his mother had turned into the road just ahead of that farmer in his sleigh. and finally the stupid dog gave up the chase and went back to farmer green's house. by that time mrs. fox and tommy were safe at home. yes--they were even having a good laugh over the way they had fooled the dog. and tommy had quite forgotten how frightened he had been. in fact, he began to feel very well pleased with himself. for he never once remembered that it was his mother, and not himself, who had thought of that trick. he ought to have felt very grateful to his grandmother, for having taught his mother that clever way of cheating a dog out of his dinner. but tommy fox was so conceited that if his grandmother had been there with them he would have thought he knew ten times as much as she did. i've no doubt that he would even have tried to teach her to suck eggs--never once stopping to think that she knew all about such things many years before he was born. xx the drummer of the woods tommy fox stopped short and listened. it was early spring, and the snow was still deep on the sides of blue mountain. _thump--thump--thump, thump, thump, thump! rub--rub--rub--rub, r-r-r-r-r-r-r!_ if you had heard that sound you would have said that there was a boy hidden somewhere on the mountain; and that he was playing a drum. but tommy fox knew better than that. he knew that it was mr. grouse, calling to mrs. grouse. and tommy knew that he made that noise by beating the air with his strong wings. now, tommy fox had not eaten a grouse for a long, long time. he had never captured a grouse himself. in fact, he had never even tried, since that time in the summer, when old mother grouse had played a trick on him, and led him away from her children. tommy made up his mind now that he was old enough and wise enough to capture mr. grouse. but he thought he had better wait until night, when mr. grouse couldn't see well. tommy fox's eyes, you know, were even sharper at night than they were in the daytime. well! tommy fox went home. and that very night he stole back again to the clump of evergreens where he had heard mr. grouse drumming. it was pretty dark up there on the mountain. but tommy had no trouble at all in finding his way. and he kept looking up at the thick branches of the evergreens, for he hoped that mr. grouse was asleep on a low branch, which he could reach with a good, high jump. yes--it was dark. and it was very cold up there on blue mountain, for all it was early springtime. and the evergreen trees bowed beneath a burden of snow, which had fallen only the day before. it was very still in the forest. and when tommy fox suddenly heard a cry of _"whoo--whoo--whoo!"_ he jumped, in spite of himself. tommy knew, right away, that it was only mr. owl. and he felt very sheepish. and then all at once tommy jumped again. this time he was terribly frightened, for the strangest thing happened. the snow rose right up beneath his feet, and flew in his face. and something struck him a good, hard blow under his chin. tommy fell over backward in the snow, he was so surprised. and a roar like thunder rang through the forest. tommy knew then what had happened. maybe you have guessed, too. for it was mr. grouse himself. he had burrowed his way into the snow, so that he might have a warm blanket to cover him during the night. and tommy fox had stepped squarely on top of him. it was no wonder mr. grouse had sprung up in a hurry. he was just as frightened as tommy himself, because he had been sound asleep, and he had no idea what was the matter. as for tommy fox, it was a huge joke on him. but it was a joke that didn't please tommy at all. he felt very silly, when it was all over. xxi the biggest surprise of all it was a pretty big surprise for tommy fox, when mr. grouse sprang out of the snow, right beneath his feet. but it was nothing at all, compared with the surprise tommy had when he reached home. very late at night tommy stole into his mother's house. in fact, it was nearly morning. and tommy crept in very quietly, for he hardly expected that his mother would be awake and he did not want to disturb her. tommy had just curled up on his bed and was all ready to go to sleep, when to his great astonishment he heard his mother talking. she was not talking to _him_, but to someone near her, for she spoke so low that tommy could not hear what she was saying. he thought right away that somebody had come to pay them a visit. and he called out-"who's here, mother? is it a visitor?" "yes, tommy," mrs. fox answered. "come here and see who it is." tommy jumped out of bed and hopped across the room. at first he couldn't see anybody but his mother. "it's just a joke!" tommy exclaimed. "you're only fooling!" "look sharp!" said mrs. fox. "it's a surprise. what do you call this?" she moved aside a bit, and pointed to a little, soft, woolly thing which lay close beside her. tommy had to look two or three times to see what it was. and even then he wasn't sure. "is it--is it--a baby?" he asked. "that's just what it is," his mother said. tommy certainly was surprised. and before he could find his voice again mrs. fox showed him another baby fox, and another and another and another. yes--there they were--five of them all together, small and soft and woolly. they weren't nearly so brightly colored as tommy and his mother--just a pale, brownish red. tommy fox could hardly believe it. as he stared at them he suddenly noticed something strange about the baby foxes. "why--they're all blind--every one of them!" he cried. "hadn't we better send them back and get some good ones?" he asked. mrs. fox laughed. "of course they're blind," she said. "you were blind when you were their age. their eyes will be open in a few days.... well--what do you think of them, tommy?" she asked; for tommy fox seemed to be lost in thought. "i was wondering how they would ever be able to hunt--they're so small." "oh! i'll have to hunt for them, for a long time," his mother explained. "when they get big enough i shall teach them to hunt for themselves, just as i taught you. "now you see why i showed you how to catch mice and rabbits and woodchucks," mrs. fox said. "you'll have to look out for yourself now, tommy. for i shall have all i can do to find enough for myself and five children to eat, without feeding a big fellow like you." that made tommy fox feel very proud. he felt bigger, and stronger, and wiser than ever before. "i shall get along all right," tommy said. "i almost caught mr. grouse tonight. but he got away." tommy yawned, for he was very sleepy. and pretty soon he was curled up on his little bed again, dreaming of a wonderful bird that he had caught, which was so big that he and his mother and his five little brothers and sisters made a fine meal off it. but of course it was only a dream. the end a word to grown ups to you;--parents, guardians, teachers and all others upon whom devolves the supremely important responsibility of directing the early years of development of childhood, this series of tuck-me-in tales which sketch such vivid and delightful scenes of the vibrant life of meadow and woodland should have tremendous appeal. in this collection of stories you will find precisely the sort of healthy, imaginative entertainment that is an essential in stimulating thought germs in the child mind. merely from the standpoint of their desirability for helping the growing tot to pass an idle half hour, any one of these volumes would be worth your while. but the author had something further than that in mind. he has, with simplicity and grace, worthy of high commendation, sought to convey a two-fold lesson throughout the entire series, the first based upon natural history and the second upon the elementary principles of living which should be made clear to every child at the earliest age of understanding. the first of these aims he has accomplished by adapting every one of his bird characters to its living counterpart in the realm of biology. the child learns very definite truths about which the story is woven; learns in such a fascinating manner that he will not quickly forget, and is brought into such pleasant intimacy that his immediate sympathy is aroused. the author accomplishes the purpose of driving home simple lessons on good conduct by attributing the many of the same traits of character to his feathered heroes and heroines that are to be found wherever the human race made its habitation. the praise-worthy qualities of courage, love, unselfishness, truth, industry, and humility are portrayed in the dealings of the field and forest folk and the consequential reward of these virtues is clearly shown; he also reveals the unhappy results of greed, jealousy, trickery and other character weaknesses. the effect is to impress indelibly upon the imagination of the child that certain deeds are their own desirable reward while certain others are much better left undone. if any further recommendation is necessary, would it not be well to resort to the court of final appeal, the child himself? simply purchase a trial copy from your bookseller with the understanding that if it meets with the disapproval of the little man or woman for whom it is intended, he will accept its return. the tale of jolly robin of course, there is a time when jolly robin is only a nestling. then one day, after he tumbles out of the apple tree and falls squawking and fluttering to the ground, he takes his first lesson in flying. so pleased is jolly to know that he can actually sail through the air on his wings, that he goes out into the wide, wide world to shift for himself. one day, after advising with jimmy rabbit, he decides to become general laugh-maker to the inhabitants of pleasant valley, and he becomes one of mother nature's happiest little feathered folk, going about trying to make things a bit better in the world. true, he falls into many blunders and has many strange experiences, but his intentions are always the best, remember. slyly tucked away in this story of jolly robin and of his adventures, is much bird lore and philosophy,--both instructive and entertaining. the tale of betsy butterfly betsy butterfly is the owner of a pair of such beautifully colored wings and her sweet disposition matches them so perfectly that it is a very common occurrence to hear one of the tiny dwellers in farmer green's meadow remark: "why, the sun just has to smile on her!" of course, any lady so gifted is bound to have many admirers and betsy is no exception. but there are a few of her acquaintances who cannot keep from showing their jealousy of her popularity and these try in various unkind ways to make her disliked. the story of how she politely overlooks these rude attempts, in that way causing herself to be all the more thought of, is the best sort of example to any human girl or boy who wishes to know how to be sure of making friends. you will find that betsy is a great girl for giving parties and perhaps she will give you a few valuable ideas that will be useful sometime when you have a party of your own. buster bumblebee buster's intentions are all very good, but he is so awkward and stupid that he constantly stumbles into trouble, thereby causing his acquaintances much unnecessary discomfiture and himself no end of embarrassment. he is, furthermore, a terrific boaster, as you will learn when you read of his many declarations of the pummeling he would give the ferocious robber fly, if ever he chanced to meet that devouring assassin. what buster actually does when the unexpected encounter takes place will afford you a good laugh at his expense, and, finally, after you have romped and dallied with him through his many happy excursions you will close the book with a feeling that it has done you good to have known him, lazy and blundering though he is, for he is indeed the best natured fellow, and he is so anxious to buzz into everything that attracts his attention that you find you have learned a great many things you never before dreamed of about the tiny creatures of the fields. the tale of freddie firefly freddie firefly is most anxious to lighten the cares of his friends in pleasant valley for he is a most unselfish fellow and enjoys nothing more than seeing other people as happy as he. he has one grave fault, however, that prevents him from being a very great help, and that is his inability to remain long in one place. he is so full of spry gaiety that he never can be quite content unless he is dancing with his relatives in the hollow near the swamp or darting about farmer green's lawn. his friends often give him advice as to how he may use the wonderful light which he always carries with him, and finally mrs. ladybug tells him he should go to the railroad and work as a signalman for the trains. you will hold your breath as you read about the exciting adventure that follows this suggestion, and you will no doubt agree with those to whom he later tells it that he is a very lucky freddie to escape. rusty wren is another little neighbor in pleasant valley. his particular home there is farmer green's yard where he lives in a bright shiny home which is really a tin can with a hole in it! and dear me! i forgot all about rusty wren's family--his wife and six baby children who had to be given wren food by rusty and little chippy, jr. you will laugh heartily when you read about chippy growing so big and fat that he gets stuck in rusty's tiny doorway and can't get pulled out. my, what an exciting time it was! and you will laugh again when you watch rusty wren go way over to the bank of black creek all ready for a party when there really is no party. yes, you will agree with farmer green's boy and the rest of our friends in pleasant valley that rusty certainly is a very interesting little neighbor. the tale of daddy long-legs daddy is a person of such unusual appearance with, his eight scrawny legs in contrast to ordinary people's two, and everything about his private life is such a mystery to his neighbors that his acquaintances give him credit for having a marvelous ability to look into the future. in fact, there are many two-legged humans, even today, who think he is a sort of soothsayer and mystery man. perhaps, if you are one of these, you will be inclined to change your mind after reading about his contest with old mr. crow to see which is really the wiser of the two. and would you not naturally suppose that anybody with so many legs to carry him would be the champion walker of the world? maybe daddy finds that it takes time to decide which of his feet he should put forward in taking the next step, or may be each separate foot has a notion of choose; at any rate, he proves to be the slowest traveler imaginable. but he is so popular among his neighbors and you will like him too--he has so many quaint ideas. the tale of kiddie katydid kiddy katydid and his relatives were in possession of a secret that none of the pleasant valley folk can solve, though they waste much time and energy trying to guess it. even to this day it is doubtful if anyone other than kiddie himself really knows what katy did! but his friends are a curious lot and they work their brains over-time to think of some scheme to make kiddie tell. if you want to know what they do accidentally discover about kiddie himself and how excited every body becomes as the rare news spreads from mouth to mouth, you will find that and many other remarkable things about him in this interesting story of his life in the maple tree that grows in farmer green's yard. you will like kiddie. he is very modest and retiring--behaving very much as any well raised youngster should, and when you understand just how it happens that he keeps repeating that funny remark about katy, you can join him in the hearty laugh he has on his friends. the tale of old mr. crow mr. crow has a very solemn look--unless you regard him closely. but it is a very sly, knowing look, if you take pains to stare boldly into his eyes. like many human beings, he is fond of clothes, and he particularly likes gay ones, but perhaps that is because he is so black himself. anyhow, so long as he can wear a bright red coat and a yellow necktie--or a bright red necktie and a yellow coat--he is generally quite happy. one fall mr. crow decides to stay in pleasant valley during the winter, instead of going south, and he remembers all at once that he will need some warm clothing. now, mr. frog, the tailor, and jimmy rabbit, the shoemaker, know just how to talk to mr. crow to sell their merchandise, playing upon his vanity to buy the latest, and even to "set the styles," but they have to be pretty keen and sly to get the best of mr. crow in the end. mr. crow has his good points as well as his bad ones, and he helps farmer green a lot more than he injures him it is said. nevertheless, farmer green does not figure that way,--and in justice to old "jim crow," you should read of his adventures for yourself. the tale of solomon owl all the folks down in pleasant valley know solomon owl. well, it's this way. if you hear solomon owl on a dark night when his "wha-wha! whoo-ah!" sends a chill 'way up your spine, and if you see him you can never forget him, either. he has great, big, staring eyes that make you feel queer when you look at his pale face. no, sir, little folks like mr. frog, the tailor, certainly don't like to have any visits from solomon owl when solomon has a fine appetite. to be sure, farmer green isn't happy when solomon steals some of his fine chickens, and neither are the chickens for that matter. but solomon doesn't have all the fun on some one else. oh no! reddy woodpecker knows how to tease him by tapping with his bill on solomon's wooden house in the daytime, when every owl likes to sleep and dream of all the nice frogs and fat chickens they are going to feast on the next night, and then, out comes solomon all blinking with his big, black eyes. but this wise owl, who really isn't as wise as he looks, you know, finds a good way to fool reddy and the rest of the folks who like to annoy him, and lives his own happy life. the tale of jasper jay jasper jay really is a good sort of a fellow even though he does make a dreadful racket when he is around; but that is his way of talking. he just likes to tease for the fun of teasing and so naturally he gets into lots of scraps and seems bound to get into more. of course, lots of folks in pleasant valley don't like him because he plays tricks and pranks on them and makes them feel all ruffled up. why, he even thinks he can spoil the singing society, but do you know, the society fools jasper himself. and that time jimmy rabbit teaches jasper jay some manners down by the cedar tree--the poor jay stays there until his feet are frozen in the water before he finds out--well--you may discover for yourself what happens next. team note: the html version of this e-book includes illustrations. see http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/3/3/10337/10337-h/10337-h.htm or http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/3/3/10337/10337-h.zip lady into fox by david garnett illustrated with wood engravings by r. a. garnett 1922 to duncan grant [illustration: mr. and mrs. tebrick at home] wonderful or supernatural events are not so uncommon, rather they are irregular in their incidence. thus there may be not one marvel to speak of in a century, and then often enough comes a plentiful crop of them; monsters of all sorts swarm suddenly upon the earth, comets blaze in the sky, eclipses frighten nature, meteors fall in rain, while mermaids and sirens beguile, and sea-serpents engulf every passing ship, and terrible cataclysms beset humanity. but the strange event which i shall here relate came alone, unsupported, without companions into a hostile world, and for that very reason claimed little of the general attention of mankind. for the sudden changing of mrs. tebrick into a vixen is an established fact which we may attempt to account for as we will. certainly it is in the explanation of the fact, and the reconciling of it with our general notions that we shall find most difficulty, and not in accepting for true a story which is so fully proved, and that not by one witness but by a dozen, all respectable, and with no possibility of collusion between them. but here i will confine myself to an exact narrative of the event and all that followed on it. yet i would not dissuade any of my readers from attempting an explanation of this seeming miracle because up till now none has been found which is entirely satisfactory. what adds to the difficulty to my mind is that the metamorphosis occurred when mrs. tebrick was a full-grown woman, and that it happened suddenly in so short a space of time. the sprouting of a tail, the gradual extension of hair all over the body, the slow change of the whole anatomy by a process of growth, though it would have been monstrous, would not have been so difficult to reconcile to our ordinary conceptions, particularly had it happened in a young child. but here we have something very different. a grown lady is changed straightway into a fox. there is no explaining that away by any natural philosophy. the materialism of our age will not help us here. it is indeed a _miracle_; something from outside our world altogether; an event which we would willingly accept if we were to meet it invested with the authority of divine revelation in the scriptures, but which we are not prepared to encounter almost in our time, happening in oxfordshire amongst our neighbours. the only things which go any way towards an explanation of it are but guesswork, and i give them more because i would not conceal anything, than because i think they are of any worth. mrs. tebrick's maiden name was certainly fox, and it is possible that such a miracle happening before, the family may have gained their name as a _soubriquet_ on that account. they were an ancient family, and have had their seat at tangley hall time out of mind. it is also true that there was a half-tame fox once upon a time chained up at tangley hall in the inner yard, and i have heard many speculative wiseacres in the public-houses turn that to great account--though they could not but admit that "there was never one there in miss silvia's time." at first i was inclined to think that silvia fox, having once hunted when she was a child of ten and having been blooded, might furnish more of an explanation. it seems she took great fright or disgust at it, and vomited after it was done. but now i do not see that it has much bearing on the miracle itself, even though we know that after that she always spoke of the "poor foxes" when a hunt was stirring and never rode to hounds till after her marriage when her husband persuaded her to it. she was married in the year 1879 to mr. richard tebrick, after a short courtship, and went to live after their honeymoon at rylands, near stokoe, oxon. one point indeed i have not been able to ascertain and that is how they first became acquainted. tangley hall is over thirty miles from stokoe, and is extremely remote. indeed to this day there is no proper road to it, which is all the more remarkable as it is the principal, and indeed the only, manor house for several miles round. whether it was from a chance meeting on the roads, or less romantic but more probable, by mr. tebrick becoming acquainted with her uncle, a minor canon at oxford, and thence being invited by him to visit tangley hall, it is impossible to say. but however they became acquainted the marriage was a very happy one. the bride was in her twenty-third year. she was small, with remarkably small hands and feet. it is perhaps worth noting that there was nothing at all foxy or vixenish in her appearance. on the contrary, she was a more than ordinarily beautiful and agreeable woman. her eyes were of a clear hazel but exceptionally brilliant, her hair dark, with a shade of red in it, her skin brownish, with a few dark freckles and little moles. in manner she was reserved almost to shyness, but perfectly self-possessed, and perfectly well-bred. she had been strictly brought up by a woman of excellent principles and considerable attainments, who died a year or so before the marriage. and owing to the circumstance that her mother had been dead many years, and her father bedridden, and not altogether rational for a little while before his death, they had few visitors but her uncle. he often stopped with them a month or two at a stretch, particularly in winter, as he was fond of shooting snipe, which are plentiful in the valley there. that she did not grow up a country hoyden is to be explained by the strictness of her governess and the influence of her uncle. but perhaps living in so wild a place gave her some disposition to wildness, even in spite of her religious upbringing. her old nurse said: "miss silvia was always a little wild at heart," though if this was true it was never seen by anyone else except her husband. on one of the first days of the year 1880, in the early afternoon, husband and wife went for a walk in the copse on the little hill above rylands. they were still at this time like lovers in their behaviour and were always together. while they were walking they heard the hounds and later the huntsman's horn in the distance. mr. tebrick had persuaded her to hunt on boxing day, but with great difficulty, and she had not enjoyed it (though of hacking she was fond enough). hearing the hunt, mr. tebrick quickened his pace so as to reach the edge of the copse, where they might get a good view of the hounds if they came that way. his wife hung back, and he, holding her hand, began almost to drag her. before they gained the edge of the copse she suddenly snatched her hand away from his very violently and cried out, so that he instantly turned his head. _where his wife had been the moment before was a small fox, of a very bright red._ it looked at him very beseechingly, advanced towards him a pace or two, and he saw at once that his wife was looking at him from the animal's eyes. you may well think if he were aghast: and so maybe was his lady at finding herself in that shape, so they did nothing for nearly half-an-hour but stare at each other, he bewildered, she asking him with her eyes as if indeed she spoke to him: "what am i now become? have pity on me, husband, have pity on me for i am your wife." so that with his gazing on her and knowing her well, even in such a shape, yet asking himself at every moment: "can it be she? am i not dreaming?" and her beseeching and lastly fawning on him and seeming to tell him that it was she indeed, they came at last together and he took her in his arms. she lay very close to him, nestling under his coat and fell to licking his face, but never taking her eyes from his. the husband all this while kept turning the thing in his head and gazing on her, but he could make no sense of what had happened, but only comforted himself with the hope that this was but a momentary change, and that presently she would turn back again into the wife that was one flesh with him. one fancy that came to him, because he was so much more like a lover than a husband, was that it was his fault, and this because if anything dreadful happened he could never blame her but himself for it. so they passed a good while, till at last the tears welled up in the poor fox's eyes and she began weeping (but quite in silence), and she trembled too as if she were in a fever. at this he could not contain his own tears, but sat down on the ground and sobbed for a great while, but between his sobs kissing her quite as if she had been a woman, and not caring in his grief that he was kissing a fox on the muzzle. they sat thus till it was getting near dusk, when he recollected himself, and the next thing was that he must somehow hide her, and then bring her home. he waited till it was quite dark that he might the better bring her into her own house without being seen, and buttoned her inside his topcoat, nay, even in his passion tearing open his waistcoat and his shirt that she might lie the closer to his heart. for when we are overcome with the greatest sorrow we act not like men or women but like children whose comfort in all their troubles is to press themselves against their mother's breast, or if she be not there to hold each other tight in one another's arms. when it was dark he brought her in with infinite precautions, yet not without the dogs scenting her after which nothing could moderate their clamour. having got her into the house, the next thing he thought of was to hide her from the servants. he carried her to the bedroom in his arms and then went downstairs again. mr. tebrick had three servants living in the house, the cook, the parlour-maid, and an old woman who had been his wife's nurse. besides these women there was a groom or a gardener (whichever you choose to call him), who was a single man and so lived out, lodging with a labouring family about half a mile away. mr. tebrick going downstairs pitched upon the parlour-maid. "janet," says he, "mrs. tebrick and i have had some bad news, and mrs. tebrick was called away instantly to london and left this afternoon, and i am staying to-night to put our affairs in order. we are shutting up the house, and i must give you and mrs. brant a month's wages and ask you to leave to-morrow morning at seven o'clock. we shall probably go away to the continent, and i do not know when we shall come back. please tell the others, and now get me my tea and bring it into my study on a tray." janet said nothing for she was a shy girl, particularly before gentlemen, but when she entered the kitchen mr. tebrick heard a sudden burst of conversation with many exclamations from the cook. when she came back with his tea, mr. tebrick said: "i shall not require you upstairs. pack your own things and tell james to have the waggonette ready for you by seven o'clock to-morrow morning to take you to the station. i am busy now, but i will see you again before you go." when she had gone mr. tebrick took the tray upstairs. for the first moment he thought the room was empty, and his vixen got away, for he could see no sign of her anywhere. but after a moment he saw something stirring in a corner of the room, and then behold! she came forth dragging her dressing-gown, into which she had somehow struggled. this must surely have been a comical sight, but poor mr. tebrick was altogether too distressed then or at any time afterwards to divert himself at such ludicrous scenes. he only called to her softly: "silvia--silvia. what do you do there?" and then in a moment saw for himself what she would be at, and began once more to blame himself heartily--because he had not guessed that his wife would not like to go naked, notwithstanding the shape she was in. nothing would satisfy him then till he had clothed her suitably, bringing her dresses from the wardrobe for her to choose. but as might have been expected, they were too big for her now, but at last he picked out a little dressing-jacket that she was fond of wearing sometimes in the mornings. it was made of a flowered silk, trimmed with lace, and the sleeves short enough to sit very well on her now. while he tied the ribands his poor lady thanked him with gentle looks and not without some modesty and confusion. he propped her up in an armchair with some cushions, and they took tea together, she very delicately drinking from a saucer and taking bread and butter from his hands. all this showed him, or so he thought, that his wife was still herself; there was so little wildness in her demeanour and so much delicacy and decency, especially in her not wishing to run naked, that he was very much comforted, and began to fancy they could be happy enough if they could escape the world and live always alone. from this too sanguine dream he was aroused by hearing the gardener speaking to the dogs, trying to quiet them, for ever since he had come in with his vixen they had been whining, barking and growling, and all as he knew because there was a fox within doors and they would kill it. he started up now, calling to the gardener that he would come down to the dogs himself to quiet them, and bade the man go indoors again and leave it to him. all this he said in a dry, compelling kind of voice which made the fellow do as he was bid, though it was against his will, for he was curious. mr. tebrick went downstairs, and taking his gun from the rack loaded it and went out into the yard. now there were two dogs, one a handsome irish setter that was his wife's dog (she had brought it with her from tangley hall on her marriage); the other was an old fox terrier called nelly that he had had ten years or more. when he came out into the yard both dogs saluted him by barking and whining twice as much as they did before, the setter jumping up and down at the end of his chain in a frenzy, and nelly shivering, wagging her tail, and looking first at her master and then at the house door, where she could smell the fox right enough. there was a bright moon, so that mr. tebrick could see the dogs as clearly as could be. first he shot his wife's setter dead, and then looked about him for nelly to give her the other barrel, but he could see her nowhere. the bitch was clean gone, till, looking to see how she had broken her chain, he found her lying hid in the back of her kennel. but that trick did not save her, for mr. tebrick, after trying to pull her out by her chain and finding it useless--she would not come,--thrust the muzzle of his gun into the kennel, pressed it into her body and so shot her. afterwards, striking a match, he looked in at her to make certain she was dead. then, leaving the dogs as they were, chained up, mr. tebrick went indoors again and found the gardener, who had not yet gone home, gave him a month's wages in lieu of notice and told him he had a job for him yet--to bury the two dogs and that he should do it that same night. but by all this going on with so much strangeness and authority on his part, as it seemed to them, the servants were much troubled. hearing the shots while he was out in the yard his wife's old nurse, or nanny, ran up to the bedroom though she had no business there, and so opening the door saw the poor fox dressed in my lady's little jacket lying back in the cushions, and in such a reverie of woe that she heard nothing. old nanny, though she was not expecting to find her mistress there, having been told that she was gone that afternoon to london, knew her instantly, and cried out: "oh, my poor precious! oh, poor miss silvia! what dreadful change is this?" then, seeing her mistress start and look at her, she cried out: "but never fear, my darling, it will all come right, your old nanny knows you, it will all come right in the end." but though she said this she did not care to look again, and kept her eyes turned away so as not to meet the foxy slit ones of her mistress, for that was too much for her. so she hurried out soon, fearing to be found there by mr. tebrick, and who knows, perhaps shot, like the dogs, for knowing the secret. mr. tebrick had all this time gone about paying off his servants and shooting his dogs as if he were in a dream. now he fortified himself with two or three glasses of strong whisky and went to bed, taking his vixen into his arms, where he slept soundly. whether she did or not is more than i or anybody else can say. in the morning when he woke up they had the place to themselves, for on his instructions the servants had all left first thing: janet and the cook to oxford, where they would try and find new places, and nanny going back to the cottage near tangley, where her son lived, who was the pigman there. so with that morning there began what was now to be their ordinary life together. he would get up when it was broad day, and first thing light the fire downstairs and cook the breakfast, then brush his wife, sponge her with a damp sponge, then brush her again, in all this using scent very freely to hide somewhat her rank odour. when she was dressed he carried her downstairs and they had their breakfast together, she sitting up to table with him, drinking her saucer of tea, and taking her food from his fingers, or at any rate being fed by him. she was still fond of the same food that she had been used to before her transformation, a lightly boiled egg or slice of ham, a piece of buttered toast or two, with a little quince and apple jam. while i am on the subject of her food, i should say that reading in the encyclopedia he found that foxes on the continent are inordinately fond of grapes, and that during the autumn season they abandon their ordinary diet for them, and then grow exceedingly fat and lose their offensive odour. this appetite for grapes is so well confirmed by aesop, and by passages in the scriptures, that it is strange mr. tebrick should not have known it. after reading this account he wrote to london for a basket of grapes to be posted to him twice a week and was rejoiced to find that the account in the encyclopedia was true in the most important of these particulars. his vixen relished them exceedingly and seemed never to tire of them, so that he increased his order first from one pound to three pounds and afterwards to five. her odour abated so much by this means that he came not to notice it at all except sometimes in the mornings before her toilet. what helped most to make living with her bearable for him was that she understood him perfectly--yes, every word he said, and though she was dumb she expressed herself very fluently by looks and signs though never by the voice. thus he frequently conversed with her, telling her all his thoughts and hiding nothing from her, and this the more readily because he was very quick to catch her meaning and her answers. "puss, puss," he would say to her, for calling her that had been a habit with him always. "sweet puss, some men would pity me living alone here with you after what has happened, but i would not change places while you were living with any man for the whole world. though you are a fox i would rather live with you than any woman. i swear i would, and that too if you were changed to anything." but then, catching her grave look, he would say: "do you think i jest on these things, my dear? i do not. i swear to you, my darling, that all my life i will be true to you, will be faithful, will respect and reverence you who are my wife. and i will do that not because of any hope that god in his mercy will see fit to restore your shape, but solely because i love you. however you may be changed, my love is not." then anyone seeing them would have sworn that they were lovers, so passionately did each look on the other. often he would swear to her that the devil might have power to work some miracles, but that he would find it beyond him to change his love for her. these passionate speeches, however they might have struck his wife in an ordinary way, now seemed to be her chief comfort. she would come to him, put her paw in his hand and look at him with sparkling eyes shining with joy and gratitude, would pant with eagerness, jump at him and lick his face. now he had many little things which busied him in the house--getting his meals, setting the room straight, making the bed and so forth. when he was doing this housework it was comical to watch his vixen. often she was as it were beside herself with vexation and distress to see him in his clumsy way doing what she could have done so much better had she been able. then, forgetful of the decency and the decorum which she had at first imposed upon herself never to run upon all fours, she followed him everywhere, and if he did one thing wrong she stopped him and showed him the way of it. when he had forgot the hour for his meal she would come and tug his sleeve and tell him as if she spoke: "husband, are we to have no luncheon to-day?" this womanliness in her never failed to delight him, for it showed she was still his wife, buried as it were in the carcase of a beast but with a woman's soul. this encouraged him so much that he debated with himself whether he should not read aloud to her, as he often had done formerly. at last, since he could find no reason against it, he went to the shelf and fetched down a volume of the "history of clarissa harlowe," which he had begun to read aloud to her a few weeks before. he opened the volume where he had left off, with lovelace's letter after he had spent the night waiting fruitlessly in the copse. "good god! "what is now to become of me? "my feet benumbed by midnight wanderings through the heaviest dews that ever fell; my wig and my linen dripping with the hoarfrost dissolving on them! "day but just breaking...." etc. while he read he was conscious of holding her attention, then after a few pages the story claimed all his, so that he read on for about half-an-hour without looking at her. when he did so he saw that she was not listening to him, but was watching something with strange eagerness. such a fixed intent look was on her face that he was alarmed and sought the cause of it. presently he found that her gaze was fixed on the movements of her pet dove which was in its cage hanging in the window. he spoke to her, but she seemed displeased, so he laid "clarissa harlowe" aside. nor did he ever repeat the experiment of reading to her. yet that same evening, as he happened to be looking through his writing table drawer with puss beside him looking over his elbow, she spied a pack of cards, and then he was forced to pick them out to please her, then draw them from their case. at last, trying first one thing, then another, he found that what she was after was to play piquet with him. they had some difficulty at first in contriving for her to hold her cards and then to play them, but this was at last overcome by his stacking them for her on a sloping board, after which she could flip them out very neatly with her claws as she wanted to play them. when they had overcome this trouble they played three games, and most heartily she seemed to enjoy them. moreover she won all three of them. after this they often played a quiet game of piquet together, and cribbage too. i should say that in marking the points at cribbage on the board he always moved her pegs for her as well as his own, for she could not handle them or set them in the holes. the weather, which had been damp and misty, with frequent downpours of rain, improved very much in the following week, and, as often happens in january, there were several days with the sun shining, no wind and light frosts at night, these frosts becoming more intense as the days went on till bye and bye they began to think of snow. with this spell of fine weather it was but natural that mr. tebrick should think of taking his vixen out of doors. this was something he had not yet done, both because of the damp rainy weather up till then and because the mere notion of taking her out filled him with alarm. indeed he had so many apprehensions beforehand that at one time he resolved totally against it. for his mind was filled not only with the fear that she might escape from him and run away, which he knew was groundless, but with more rational visions, such as wandering curs, traps, gins, spring guns, besides a dread of being seen with her by the neighbourhood. at last however he resolved on it, and all the more as his vixen kept asking him in the gentlest way: "might she not go out into the garden?" yet she always listened very submissively when he told her that he was afraid if they were seen together it would excite the curiosity of their neighbours; besides this, he often told her of his fears for her on account of dogs. but one day she answered this by leading him into the hall and pointing boldly to his gun. after this he resolved to take her, though with full precautions. that is he left the house door open so that in case of need she could beat a swift retreat, then he took his gun under his arm, and lastly he had her well wrapped up in a little fur jacket lest she should take cold. he would have carried her too, but that she delicately disengaged herself from his arms and looked at him very expressively to say that she would go by herself. for already her first horror of being seen to go upon all fours was worn off; reasoning no doubt upon it, that either she must resign herself to go that way or else stay bed-ridden all the rest of her life. her joy at going into the garden was inexpressible. first she ran this way, then that, though keeping always close to him, looking very sharply with ears cocked forward first at one thing, then another and then up to catch his eye. for some time indeed she was almost dancing with delight, running round him, then forward a yard or two, then back to him and gambolling beside him as they went round the garden. but in spite of her joy she was full of fear. at every noise, a cow lowing, a cock crowing, or a ploughman in the distance hulloaing to scare the rooks, she started, her ears pricked to catch the sound, her muzzle wrinkled up and her nose twitched, and she would then press herself against his legs. they walked round the garden and down to the pond where there were ornamental waterfowl, teal, widgeon and mandarin ducks, and seeing these again gave her great pleasure. they had always been her favourites, and now she was so overjoyed to see them that she behaved with very little of her usual self-restraint. first she stared at them, then bouncing up to her husband's knee sought to kindle an equal excitement in his mind. whilst she rested her paws on his knee she turned her head again and again towards the ducks as though she could not take her eyes off them, and then ran down before him to the water's edge. but her appearance threw the ducks into the utmost degree of consternation. those on shore or near the bank swam or flew to the centre of the pond, and there huddled in a bunch; and then, swimming round and round, they began such a quacking that mr. tebrick was nearly deafened. as i have before said, nothing in the ludicrous way that arose out of the metamorphosis of his wife (and such incidents were plentiful) ever stood a chance of being smiled at by him. so in this case, too, for realising that the silly ducks thought his wife a fox indeed and were alarmed on that account he found painful that spectacle which to others might have been amusing. not so his vixen, who appeared if anything more pleased than ever when she saw in what a commotion she had set them, and began cutting a thousand pretty capers. though at first he called to her to come back and walk another way, mr. tebrick was overborne by her pleasure and sat down, while she frisked around him happier far than he had seen her ever since the change. first she ran up to him in a laughing way, all smiles, and then ran down again to the water's edge and began frisking and frolicking, chasing her own brush, dancing on her hind legs even, and rolling on the ground, then fell to running in circles, but all this without paying any heed to the ducks. but they, with their necks craned out all pointing one way, swam to and fro in the middle of the pond, never stopping their quack, quack quack, and keeping time too, for they all quacked in chorus. presently she came further away from the pond, and he, thinking they had had enough of this sort of entertainment, laid hold of her and said to her: "come, silvia, my dear, it is growing cold, and it is time we went indoors. i am sure taking the air has done you a world of good, but we must not linger any more." she appeared then to agree with him, though she threw half a glance over her shoulder at the ducks, and they both walked soberly enough towards the house. when they had gone about halfway she suddenly slipped round and was off. he turned quickly and saw the ducks had been following them. so she drove them before her back into the pond, the ducks running in terror from her with their wings spread, and she not pressing them, for he saw that had she been so minded she could have caught two or three of the nearest. then, with her brush waving above her, she came gambolling back to him so playfully that he stroked her indulgently, though he was first vexed, and then rather puzzled that his wife should amuse herself with such pranks. but when they got within doors he picked her up in his arms, kissed her and spoke to her. "silvia, what a light-hearted childish creature you are. your courage under misfortune shall be a lesson to me, but i cannot, i cannot bear to see it." here the tears stood suddenly in his eyes, and he lay down upon the ottoman and wept, paying no heed to her until presently he was aroused by her licking his cheek and his ear. after tea she led him to the drawing room and scratched at the door till he opened it, for this was part of the house which he had shut up, thinking three or four rooms enough for them now, and to save the dusting of it. then it seemed she would have him play to her on the pianoforte: she led him to it, nay, what is more, she would herself pick out the music he was to play. first it was a fugue of handel's, then one of mendelssohn's songs without words, and then "the diver," and then music from gilbert and sullivan; but each piece of music she picked out was gayer than the last one. thus they sat happily engrossed for perhaps an hour in the candle light until the extreme cold in that unwarmed room stopped his playing and drove them downstairs to the fire. thus did she admirably comfort her husband when he was dispirited. yet next morning when he woke he was distressed when he found that she was not in the bed with him but was lying curled up at the foot of it. during breakfast she hardly listened when he spoke, and then impatiently, but sat staring at the dove. mr. tebrick sat silently looking out of window for some time, then he took out his pocket book; in it there was a photograph of his wife taken soon after their wedding. now he gazed and gazed upon those familiar features, and now he lifted his head and looked at the animal before him. he laughed then bitterly, the first and last time for that matter that mr. tebrick ever laughed at his wife's transformation, for he was not very humorous. but this laugh was sour and painful to him. then he tore up the photograph into little pieces, and scattered them out of the window, saying to himself: "memories will not help me here," and turning to the vixen he saw that she was still staring at the caged bird, and as he looked he saw her lick her chops. he took the bird into the next room, then acting suddenly upon the impulse, he opened the cage door and set it free, saying as he did so: "go, poor bird! fly from this wretched house while you still remember your mistress who fed you from her coral lips. you are not a fit plaything for her now. farewell, poor bird! farewell! unless," he added with a melancholy smile, "you return with good tidings like noah's dove." but, poor gentleman, his troubles were not over yet, and indeed one may say that he ran to meet them by his constant supposing that his lady should still be the same to a tittle in her behaviour now that she was changed into a fox. without making any unwarrantable suppositions as to her soul or what had now become of it (though we could find a good deal to the purpose on that point in the system of paracelsus), let us consider only how much the change in her body must needs affect her ordinary conduct. so that before we judge too harshly of this unfortunate lady, we must reflect upon the physical necessities and infirmities and appetites of her new condition, and we must magnify the fortitude of her mind which enabled her to behave with decorum, cleanliness and decency in spite of her new situation. thus she might have been expected to befoul her room, yet never could anyone, whether man or beast, have shown more nicety in such matters. but at luncheon mr. tebrick helped her to a wing of chicken, and leaving the room for a minute to fetch some water which he had forgot, found her at his return on the table crunching the very bones. he stood silent, dismayed and wounded to the heart at this sight. for we must observe that this unfortunate husband thought always of his vixen as that gentle and delicate woman she had lately been. so that whenever his vixen's conduct went beyond that which he expected in his wife he was, as it were, cut to the quick, and no kind of agony could be greater to him than to see her thus forget herself. on this account it may indeed be regretted that mrs. tebrick had been so exactly well-bred, and in particular that her table manners had always been scrupulous. had she been in the habit, like a continental princess i have dined with, of taking her leg of chicken by the drumstick and gnawing the flesh, it had been far better for him now. but as her manners had been perfect, so the lapse of them was proportionately painful to him. thus in this instance he stood as it were in silent agony till she had finished her hideous crunching of the chicken bones and had devoured every scrap. then he spoke to her gently, taking her on to his knee, stroking her fur and fed her with a few grapes, saying to her: "silvia, silvia, is it so hard for you? try and remember the past, my darling, and by living with me we will quite forget that you are no longer a woman. surely this affliction will pass soon, as suddenly as it came, and it will all seem to us like an evil dream." yet though she appeared perfectly sensible of his words and gave him sorrowful and penitent looks like her old self, that same afternoon, on taking her out, he had all the difficulty in the world to keep her from going near the ducks. there came to him then a thought that was very disagreeable to him, namely, that he dare not trust his wife alone with any bird or she would kill it. and this was the more shocking to him to think of since it meant that he durst not trust her as much as a dog even. for we may trust dogs who are familiars, with all the household pets; nay more, we can put them upon trust with anything and know they will not touch it, not even if they be starving. but things were come to such a pass with his vixen that he dared not in his heart trust her at all. yet she was still in many ways so much more woman than fox that he could talk to her on any subject and she would understand him, better far than the oriental women who are kept in subjection can ever understand their masters unless they converse on the most trifling household topics. thus she understood excellently well the importance and duties of religion. she would listen with approval in the evening when he said the lord's prayer, and was rigid in her observance of the sabbath. indeed, the next day being sunday he, thinking no harm, proposed their usual game of piquet, but no, she would not play. mr. tebrick, not understanding at first what she meant, though he was usually very quick with her, he proposed it to her again, which she again refused, and this time, to show her meaning, made the sign of the cross with her paw. this exceedingly rejoiced and comforted him in his distress. he begged her pardon, and fervently thanked god for having so good a wife, who, in spite of all, knew more of her duty to god than he did. but here i must warn the reader from inferring that she was a papist because she then made the sign of the cross. she made that sign to my thinking only on compulsion because she could not express herself except in that way. for she had been brought up as a true protestant, and that she still was one is confirmed by her objection to cards, which would have been less than nothing to her had she been a papist. yet that evening, taking her into the drawing room so that he might play her some sacred music, he found her after some time cowering away from him in the farthest corner of the room, her ears flattened back and an expression of the greatest anguish in her eyes. when he spoke to her she licked his hand, but remained shivering for a long time at his feet and showed the clearest symptoms of terror if he so much as moved towards the piano. on seeing this and recollecting how ill the ears of a dog can bear with our music, and how this dislike might be expected to be even greater in a fox, all of whose senses are more acute from being a wild creature, recollecting this he closed the piano and taking her in his arms, locked up the room and never went into it again. he could not help marvelling though, since it was but two days after she had herself led him there, and even picked out for him to play and sing those pieces which were her favourites. that night she would not sleep with him, neither in the bed nor on it, so that he was forced to let her curl herself up on the floor. but neither would she sleep there, for several times she woke him by trotting around the room, and once when he had got sound asleep by springing on the bed and then off it, so that he woke with a violent start and cried out, but got no answer either, except hearing her trotting round and round the room. presently he imagines to himself that she must want something, and so fetches her food and water, but she never so much as looks at it, but still goes on her rounds, every now and then scratching at the door. though he spoke to her, calling her by her name, she would pay no heed to him, or else only for the moment. at last he gave her up and said to her plainly: "the fit is on you now silvia to be a fox, but i shall keep you close and in the morning you will recollect yourself and thank me for having kept you now." so he lay down again, but not to sleep, only to listen to his wife running about the room and trying to get out of it. thus he spent what was perhaps the most miserable night of his existence. in the morning she was still restless, and was reluctant to let him wash and brush her, and appeared to dislike being scented but as it were to bear with it for his sake. ordinarily she had taken the greatest pleasure imaginable in her toilet, so that on this account, added to his sleepless night, mr. tebrick was utterly dejected, and it was then that he resolved to put a project into execution that would show him, so he thought, whether he had a wife or only a wild vixen in his house. but yet he was comforted that she bore at all with him, though so restlessly that he did not spare her, calling her a "bad wild fox." and then speaking to her in this manner: "are you not ashamed, silvia, to be such a madcap, such a wicked hoyden? you who were particular in dress. i see it was all vanity--now you have not your former advantages you think nothing of decency." his words had some effect with her too, and with himself, so that by the time he had finished dressing her they were both in the lowest state of spirits imaginable and neither of them far from tears. breakfast she took soberly enough, and after that he went about getting his experiment ready, which was this. in the garden he gathered together a nosegay of snowdrops, those being all the flowers he could find, and then going into the village of stokoe bought a dutch rabbit (that is a black and white one) from a man there who kept them. when he got back he took her flowers and at the same time set down the basket with the rabbit in it, with the lid open. then he called to her: "silvia, i have brought some flowers for you. look, the first snowdrops." at this she ran up very prettily, and never giving as much as one glance at the rabbit which had hopped out of its basket, she began to thank him for the flowers. indeed she seemed indefatigable in shewing her gratitude, smelt them, stood a little way off looking at them, then thanked him again. mr. tebrick (and this was all part of his plan) then took a vase and went to find some water for them, but left the flowers beside her. he stopped away five minutes, timing it by his watch and listening very intently, but never heard the rabbit squeak. yet when he went in what a horrid shambles was spread before his eyes. blood on the carpet, blood on the armchairs and antimacassars, even a little blood spurtled on to the wall, and what was worse, mrs. tebrick tearing and growling over a piece of the skin and the legs, for she had eaten up all the rest of it. the poor gentleman was so heartbroken over this that he was like to have done himself an injury, and at one moment thought of getting his gun, to have shot himself and his vixen too. indeed the extremity of his grief was such that it served him a very good turn, for he was so entirely unmanned by it that for some time he could do nothing but weep, and fell into a chair with his head in his hands, and so kept weeping and groaning. after he had been some little while employed in this dismal way, his vixen, who had by this time bolted down the rabbit skin, head, ears and all, came to him and putting her paws on his knees, thrust her long muzzle into his face and began licking him. but he, looking at her now with different eyes, and seeing her jaws still sprinkled with fresh blood and her claws full of the rabbit's fleck, would have none of it. but though he beat her off four or five times even to giving her blows and kicks, she still came back to him, crawling on her belly and imploring his forgiveness with wide-open sorrowful eyes. before he had made this rash experiment of the rabbit and the flowers, he had promised himself that if she failed in it he would have no more feeling or compassion for her than if she were in truth a wild vixen out of the woods. this resolution, though the reasons for it had seemed to him so very plain before, he now found more difficult to carry out than to decide on. at length after cursing her and beating her off for upwards of half-an-hour, he admitted to himself that he still did care for her, and even loved her dearly in spite of all, whatever pretence he affected towards her. when he had acknowledged this he looked up at her and met her eyes fixed upon him, and held out his arms to her and said: "oh silvia, silvia, would you had never done this! would i had never tempted you in a fatal hour! does not this butchery and eating of raw meat and rabbit's fur disgust you? are you a monster in your soul as well as in your body? have you forgotten what it is to be a woman?" meanwhile, with every word of his, she crawled a step nearer on her belly and at last climbed sorrowfully into his arms. his words then seemed to take effect on her and her eyes filled with tears and she wept most penitently in his arms, and her body shook with her sobs as if her heart were breaking. this sorrow of hers gave him the strangest mixture of pain and joy that he had ever known, for his love for her returning with a rush, he could not bear to witness her pain and yet must take pleasure in it as it fed his hopes of her one day returning to be a woman. so the more anguish of shame his vixen underwent, the greater his hopes rose, till his love and pity for her increasing equally, he was almost wishing her to be nothing more than a mere fox than to suffer so much by being half-human. at last he looked about him somewhat dazed with so much weeping, then set his vixen down on the ottoman, and began to clean up the room with a heavy heart. he fetched a pail of water and washed out all the stains of blood, gathered up the two antimacassars and fetched clean ones from the other rooms. while he went about this work his vixen sat and watched him very contritely with her nose between her two front paws, and when he had done he brought in some luncheon for himself, though it was already late, but none for her, she having lately so infamously feasted. but water he gave her and a bunch of grapes. afterwards she led him to the small tortoiseshell cabinet and would have him open it. when he had done so she motioned to the portable stereoscope which lay inside. mr. tebrick instantly fell in with her wish and after a few trials adjusted it to her vision. thus they spent the rest of the afternoon together very happily looking through the collection of views which he had purchased, of italy, spain and scotland. this diversion gave her great apparent pleasure and afforded him considerable comfort. but that night he could not prevail upon her to sleep in bed with him, and finally allowed her to sleep on a mat beside the bed where he could stretch down and touch her. so they passed the night, with his hand upon her head. the next morning he had more of a struggle than ever to wash and dress her. indeed at one time nothing but holding her by the scruff prevented her from getting away from him, but at last he achieved his object and she was washed, brushed, scented and dressed, although to be sure this left him better pleased than her, for she regarded her silk jacket with disfavour. still at breakfast she was well mannered though a trifle hasty with her food. then his difficulties with her began for she would go out, but as he had his housework to do, he could not allow it. he brought her picture books to divert her, but she would have none of them but stayed at the door scratching it with her claws industriously till she had worn away the paint. at first he tried coaxing her and wheedling, gave her cards to play patience and so on, but finding nothing would distract her from going out, his temper began to rise, and he told her plainly that she must wait his pleasure and that he had as much natural obstinacy as she had. but to all that he said she paid no heed whatever but only scratched the harder. thus he let her continue until luncheon, when she would not sit up, or eat off a plate, but first was for getting on to the table, and when that was prevented, snatched her meat and ate it under the table. to all his rebukes she turned a deaf or sullen ear, and so they each finished their meal eating little, either of them, for till she would sit at table he would give her no more, and his vexation had taken away his own appetite. in the afternoon he took her out for her airing in the garden. she made no pretence now of enjoying the first snowdrops or the view from the terrace. no--there was only one thing for her now--the ducks, and she was off to them before he could stop her. luckily they were all swimming when she got there (for a stream running into the pond on the far side it was not frozen there). when he had got down to the pond, she ran out on to the ice, which would not bear his weight, and though he called her and begged her to come back she would not heed him but stayed frisking about, getting as near the ducks as she dared, but being circumspect in venturing on to the thin ice. presently she turned on herself and began tearing off her clothes, and at last by biting got off her little jacket and taking it in her mouth stuffed it into a hole in the ice where he could not get it. then she ran hither and thither a stark naked vixen, and without giving a glance to her poor husband who stood silently now upon the bank, with despair and terror settled in his mind. she let him stay there most of the afternoon till he was chilled through and through and worn out with watching her. at last he reflected how she had just stripped herself and how in the morning she struggled against being dressed, and he thought perhaps he was too strict with her and if he let her have her own way they could manage to be happy somehow together even if she did eat off the floor. so he called out to her then: "silvia, come now, be good, you shan't wear any more clothes if you don't want to, and you needn't sit at table neither, i promise. you shall do as you like in that, but you must give up one thing, and that is you must stay with me and not go out alone, for that is dangerous. if any dog came on you he would kill you." directly he had finished speaking she came to him joyously, began fawning on him and prancing round him so that in spite of his vexation with her, and being cold, he could not help stroking her. "oh, silvia, are you not wilful and cunning? i see you glory in being so, but i shall not reproach you but shall stick to my side of the bargain, and you must stick to yours." he built a big fire when he came back to the house and took a glass or two of spirits also, to warm himself up, for he was chilled to the very bone. then, after they had dined, to cheer himself he took another glass, and then another, and so on till he was very merry, he thought. then he would play with his vixen, she encouraging him with her pretty sportiveness. he got up to catch her then and finding himself unsteady on his legs, he went down on to all fours. the long and the short of it is that by drinking he drowned all his sorrow; and then would be a beast too like his wife, though she was one through no fault of her own, and could not help it. to what lengths he went then in that drunken humour i shall not offend my readers by relating, but shall only say that he was so drunk and sottish that he had a very imperfect recollection of what had passed when he woke the next morning. there is no exception to the rule that if a man drink heavily at night the next morning will show the other side to his nature. thus with mr. tebrick, for as he had been beastly, merry and a very dare-devil the night before, so on his awakening was he ashamed, melancholic and a true penitent before his creator. the first thing he did when he came to himself was to call out to god to forgive him for his sin, then he fell into earnest prayer and continued so for half-an-hour upon his knees. then he got up and dressed but continued very melancholy for the whole of the morning. being in this mood you may imagine it hurt him to see his wife running about naked, but he reflected it would be a bad reformation that began with breaking faith. he had made a bargain and he would stick to it, and so he let her be, though sorely against his will. for the same reason, that is because he would stick to his side of the bargain, he did not require her to sit up at table, but gave her her breakfast on a dish in the corner, where to tell the truth she on her side ate it all up with great daintiness and propriety. nor she did make any attempt to go out of doors that morning, but lay curled up in an armchair before the fire dozing. after lunch he took her out, and she never so much as offered to go near the ducks, but running before him led him on to take her a longer walk. this he consented to do very much to her joy and delight. he took her through the fields by the most unfrequented ways, being much alarmed lest they should be seen by anyone. but by good luck they walked above four miles across country and saw nobody. all the way his wife kept running on ahead of him, and then back to him to lick his hand and so on, and appeared delighted at taking exercise. and though they startled two or three rabbits and a hare in the course of their walk she never attempted to go after them, only giving them a look and then looking back to him, laughing at him as it were for his warning cry of "puss! come in, no nonsense now!" just when they got home and were going into the porch they came face to face with an old woman. mr. tebrick stopped short in consternation and looked about for his vixen, but she had run forward without any shyness to greet her. then he recognised the intruder, it was his wife's old nurse. "what are you doing here, mrs. cork?" he asked her. mrs. cork answered him in these words: "poor thing. poor miss silvia! it is a shame to let her run about like a dog. it is a shame, and your own wife too. but whatever she looks like, you should trust her the same as ever. if you do she'll do her best to be a good wife to you, if you don't i shouldn't wonder if she did turn into a proper fox. i saw her, sir, before i left, and i've had no peace of mind. i couldn't sleep thinking of her. so i've come back to look after her, as i have done all her life, sir," and she stooped down and took mrs. tebrick by the paw. mr. tebrick unlocked the door and they went in. when mrs. cork saw the house she exclaimed again and again: "the place was a pigstye. they couldn't live like that, a gentleman must have somebody to look after him. she would do it. he could trust her with the secret." had the old woman come the day before it is likely enough that mr. tebrick would have sent her packing. but the voice of conscience being woken in him by his drunkenness of the night before he was heartily ashamed of his own management of the business, moreover the old woman's words that "it was a shame to let her run about like a dog," moved him exceedingly. being in this mood the truth is he welcomed her. but we may conclude that mrs. tebrick was as sorry to see her old nanny as her husband was glad. if we consider that she had been brought up strictly by her when she was a child, and was now again in her power, and that her old nurse could never be satisfied with her now whatever she did, but would always think her wicked to be a fox at all, there seems good reason for her dislike. and it is possible, too, that there may have been another cause as well, and that is jealousy. we know her husband was always trying to bring her back to be a woman, or at any rate to get her to act like one, may she not have been hoping to get him to be like a beast himself or to act like one? may she not have thought it easier to change him thus than ever to change herself back into being a woman? if we think that she had had a success of this kind only the night before, when he got drunk, can we not conclude that this was indeed the case, and then we have another good reason why the poor lady should hate to see her old nurse? it is certain that whatever hopes mr. tebrick had of mrs. cork affecting his wife for the better were disappointed. she grew steadily wilder and after a few days so intractable with her that mr. tebrick again took her under his complete control. the first morning mrs. cork made her a new jacket, cutting down the sleeves of a blue silk one of mrs. tebrick's and trimming it with swan's down, and directly she had altered it, put it on her mistress, and fetching a mirror would have her admire the fit of it. all the time she waited on mrs. tebrick the old woman talked to her as though she were a baby, and treated her as such, never thinking perhaps that she was either the one thing or the other, that is either a lady to whom she owed respect and who had rational powers exceeding her own, or else a wild creature on whom words were wasted. but though at first she submitted passively, mrs. tebrick only waited for her nanny's back to be turned to tear up her pretty piece of handiwork into shreds, and then ran gaily about waving her brush with only a few ribands still hanging from her neck. so it was time after time (for the old woman was used to having her own way) until mrs. cork would, i think, have tried punishing her if she had not been afraid of mrs. tebrick's rows of white teeth, which she often showed her, then laughing afterwards, as if to say it was only play. not content with tearing off the dresses that were fitted on her, one day silvia slipped upstairs to her wardrobe and tore down all her old dresses and made havoc with them, not sparing her wedding dress either, but tearing and ripping them all up so that there was hardly a shred or rag left big enough to dress a doll in. on this, mr. tebrick, who had let the old woman have most of her management to see what she could make of her, took her back under his own control. he was sorry enough now that mrs. cork had disappointed him in the hopes he had had of her, to have the old woman, as it were, on his hands. true she could be useful enough in many ways to him, by doing the housework, the cooking and mending, but still he was anxious since his secret was in her keeping, and the more now that she had tried her hand with his wife and failed. for he saw that vanity had kept her mouth shut if she had won over her mistress to better ways, and her love for her would have grown by getting her own way with her. but now that she had failed she bore her mistress a grudge for not being won over, or at the best was become indifferent to the business, so that she might very readily blab. for the moment all mr. tebrick could do was to keep her from going into stokoe to the village, where she would meet all her old cronies and where there were certain to be any number of inquiries about what was going on at rylands and so on. but as he saw that it was clearly beyond his power, however vigilant he might be, to watch over the old woman and his wife, and to prevent anyone from meeting with either of them, he began to consider what he could best do. since he had sent away his servants and the gardener, giving out a story of having received bad news and his wife going away to london where he would join her, their probably going out of england and so on, he knew well enough that there would be a great deal of talk in the neighbourhood. and as he had now stayed on, contrary to what he had said, there would be further rumour. indeed, had he known it, there was a story already going round the country that his wife had run away with major solmes, and that he was gone mad with grief, that he had shot his dogs and his horses and shut himself up alone in the house and would speak with no one. this story was made up by his neighbours not because they were fanciful or wanted to deceive, but like most tittle-tattle to fill a gap, as few like to confess ignorance, and if people are asked about such or such a man they must have something to say, or they suffer in everybody's opinion, are set down as dull or "out of the swim." in this way i met not long ago with someone who, after talking some little while and not knowing me or who i was, told me that david garnett was dead, and died of being bitten by a cat after he had tormented it. he had long grown a nuisance to his friends as an exorbitant sponge upon them, and the world was well rid of him. hearing this story of myself diverted me at the time, but i fully believe it has served me in good stead since. for it set me on my guard as perhaps nothing else would have done, against accepting for true all floating rumour and village gossip, so that now i am by second nature a true sceptic and scarcely believe anything unless the evidence for it is conclusive. indeed i could never have got to the bottom of this history if i had believed one tenth part of what i was told, there was so much of it that was either manifestly false and absurd, or else contradictory to the ascertained facts. it is therefore only the bare bones of the story which you will find written here, for i have rejected all the flowery embroideries which would be entertaining reading enough, i daresay, for some, but if there be any doubt of the truth of a thing it is poor sort of entertainment to read about in my opinion. to get back to our story: mr. tebrick having considered how much the appetite of his neighbours would be whetted to find out the mystery by his remaining in that part of the country, determined that the best thing he could do was to remove. after some time turning the thing over in his mind, he decided that no place would be so good for his purpose as old nanny's cottage. it was thirty miles away from stokoe, which in the country means as far as timbuctoo does to us in london. then it was near tangley, and his lady having known it from her childhood would feel at home there, and also it was utterly remote, there being no village near it or manor house other than tangley hall, which was now untenanted for the greater part of the year. nor did it mean imparting his secret to others, for there was only mrs. cork's son, a widower, who being out at work all day would be easily outwitted, the more so as he was stone deaf and of a slow and saturnine disposition. to be sure there was little polly, mrs. cork's granddaughter, but either mr. tebrick forgot her altogether, or else reckoned her as a mere baby and not to be thought of as a danger. he talked the thing over with mrs. cork, and they decided upon it out of hand. the truth is the old woman was beginning to regret that her love and her curiosity had ever brought her back to rylands, since so far she had got much work and little credit by it. when it was settled, mr. tebrick disposed of the remaining business he had at rylands in the afternoon, and that was chiefly putting out his wife's riding horse into the keeping of a farmer near by, for he thought he would drive over with his own horse, and the other spare horse tandem in the dogcart. the next morning they locked up the house and they departed, having first secured mrs. tebrick in a large wicker hamper where she would be tolerably comfortable. this was for safety, for in the agitation of driving she might jump out, and on the other hand, if a dog scented her and she were loose, she might be in danger of her life. mr. tebrick drove with the hamper beside him on the front seat, and spoke to her gently very often. she was overcome by the excitement of the journey and kept poking her nose first through one crevice, then through another, turning and twisting the whole time and peeping out to see what they were passing. it was a bitterly cold day, and when they had gone about fifteen miles they drew up by the roadside to rest the horses and have their own luncheon, for he dared not stop at an inn. he knew that any living creature in a hamper, even if it be only an old fowl, always draws attention; there would be several loafers most likely who would notice that he had a fox with him, and even if he left the hamper in the cart the dogs at the inn would be sure to sniff out her scent. so not to take any chances he drew up at the side of the road and rested there, though it was freezing hard and a north-east wind howling. he took down his precious hamper, unharnessed his two horses, covered them with rugs and gave them their corn. then he opened the basket and let his wife out. she was quite beside herself with joy, running hither and thither, bouncing up on him, looking about her and even rolling over on the ground. mr. tebrick took this to mean that she was glad at making this journey and rejoiced equally with her. as for mrs. cork, she sat motionless on the back seat of the dogcart well wrapped up, eating her sandwiches, but would not speak a word. when they had stayed there half-an-hour mr. tebrick harnessed the horses again, though he was so cold he could scarcely buckle the straps, and put his vixen in her basket, but seeing that she wanted to look about her, he let her tear away the osiers with her teeth till she had made a hole big enough for her to put her head out of. they drove on again and then the snow began to come down and that in earnest, so that he began to be afraid they would never cover the ground. but just after nightfall they got in, and he was content to leave unharnessing the horses and baiting them to simon, mrs. cork's son. his vixen was tired by then, as well as he, and they slept together, he in the bed and she under it, very contentedly. the next morning he looked about him at the place and found the thing there that he most wanted, and that was a little walled-in garden where his wife could run in freedom and yet be in safety. after they had had breakfast she was wild to go out into the snow. so they went out together, and he had never seen such a mad creature in all his life as his wife was then. for she ran to and fro as if she were crazy, biting at the snow and rolling in it, and round and round in circles and rushed back at him fiercely as if she meant to bite him. he joined her in the frolic, and began snowballing her till she was so wild that it was all he could do to quiet her again and bring her indoors for luncheon. indeed with her gambollings she tracked the whole garden over with her feet; he could see where she had rolled in the snow and where she had danced in it, and looking at those prints of her feet as they went in, made his heart ache, he knew not why. they passed the first day at old nanny's cottage happily enough, without their usual bickerings, and this because of the novelty of the snow which had diverted them. in the afternoon he first showed his wife to little polly, who eyed her very curiously but hung back shyly and seemed a good deal afraid of the fox. but mr. tebrick took up a book and let them get acquainted by themselves, and presently looking up saw that they had come together and polly was stroking his wife, patting her and running her fingers through her fur. presently she began talking to the fox, and then brought her doll in to show her so that very soon they were very good playmates together. watching the two gave mr. tebrick great delight, and in particular when he noticed that there was something very motherly in his vixen. she was indeed far above the child in intelligence and restrained herself too from any hasty action. but while she seemed to wait on polly's pleasure yet she managed to give a twist to the game, whatever it was, that never failed to delight the little girl. in short, in a very little while, polly was so taken with her new playmate that she cried when she was parted from her and wanted her always with her. this disposition of mrs. tebrick's made mrs. cork more agreeable than she had been lately either to the husband or the wife. three days after they had come to the cottage the weather changed, and they woke up one morning to find the snow gone, and the wind in the south, and the sun shining, so that it was like the first beginning of spring. mr. tebrick let his vixen out into the garden after breakfast, stayed with her awhile, and then went indoors to write some letters. when he got out again he could see no sign of her anywhere, so that he ran about bewildered, calling to her. at last he spied a mound of fresh earth by the wall in one corner of the garden, and running thither found that there was a hole freshly dug seeming to go under the wall. on this he ran out of the garden quickly till he came to the other side of the wall, but there was no hole there, so he concluded that she was not yet got through. so it proved to be, for reaching down into the hole he felt her brush with his hand, and could hear her distinctly working away with her claws. he called to her then, saying: "silvia, silvia, why do you do this? are you trying to escape from me? i am your husband, and if i keep you confined it is to protect you, not to let you run into danger. show me how i can make you happy and i will do it, but do not try to escape from me. i love you, silvia; is it because of that that you want to fly from me to go into the world where you will be in danger of your life always? there are dogs everywhere and they all would kill you if it were not for me. come out, silvia, come out." but silvia would not listen to him, so he waited there silent. then he spoke to her in a different way, asking her had she forgot the bargain she made with him that she would not go out alone, but now when she had all the liberty of a garden to herself would she wantonly break her word? and he asked her, were they not married? and had she not always found him a good husband to her? but she heeded this neither until presently his temper getting somewhat out of hand he cursed her obstinacy and told her if she would be a damned fox she was welcome to it, for his part he could get his own way. she had not escaped yet. he would dig her out for he still had time, and if she struggled put her in a bag. these words brought her forth instantly and she looked at him with as much astonishment as if she knew not what could have made him angry. yes, she even fawned on him, but in a good-natured kind of way, as if she were a very good wife putting up wonderfully with her husband's temper. these airs of hers made the poor gentleman (so simple was he) repent his outburst and feel most ashamed. but for all that when she was out of the hole he filled it up with great stones and beat them in with a crowbar so she should find her work at that point harder than before if she was tempted to begin it again. in the afternoon he let her go again into the garden but sent little polly with her to keep her company. but presently on looking out he saw his vixen had climbed up into the limbs of an old pear tree and was looking over the wall, and was not so far from it but she might jump over it if she could get a little further. mr. tebrick ran out into the garden as quick as he could, and when his wife saw him it seemed she was startled and made a false spring at the wall, so that she missed reaching it and fell back heavily to the ground and lay there insensible. when mr. tebrick got up to her he found her head was twisted under her by her fall and the neck seemed to be broken. the shock was so great to him that for some time he could not do anything, but knelt beside her turning her limp body stupidly in his hands. at length he recognised that she was indeed dead, and beginning to consider what dreadful afflictions god had visited him with, he blasphemed horribly and called on god to strike him dead, or give his wife back to him. "is it not enough," he cried, adding a foul blasphemous oath, "that you should rob me of my dear wife, making her a fox, but now you must rob me of that fox too, that has been my only solace and comfort in this affliction?" then he burst into tears and began wringing his hands and continued there in such an extremity of grief for half-an-hour that he cared nothing, neither what he was doing, nor what would become of him in the future, but only knew that his life was ended now and he would not live any longer than he could help. all this while the little girl polly stood by, first staring, then asking him what had happened, and lastly crying with fear, but he never heeded her nor looked at her but only tore his hair, sometimes shouted at god, or shook his fist at heaven. so in a fright polly opened the door and ran out of the garden. at length worn out, and as it were all numb with his loss, mr. tebrick got up and went within doors, leaving his dear fox lying near where she had fallen. he stayed indoors only two minutes and then came out again with a razor in his hand intending to cut his own throat, for he was out of his senses in this first paroxysm of grief. but his vixen was gone, at which he looked about for a moment bewildered, and then enraged, thinking that somebody must have taken the body. the door of the garden being open he ran straight through it. now this door, which had been left ajar by polly when she ran off, opened into a little courtyard where the fowls were shut in at night; the woodhouse and the privy also stood there. on the far side of it from the garden gate were two large wooden doors big enough when open to let a cart enter, and high enough to keep a man from looking over into the yard. when mr. tebrick got into the yard he found his vixen leaping up at these doors, and wild with terror, but as lively as ever he saw her in his life. he ran up to her but she shrank away from him, and would then have dodged him too, but he caught hold of her. she bared her teeth at him but he paid no heed to that, only picked her straight up into his arms and took her so indoors. yet all the while he could scarce believe his eyes to see her living, and felt her all over very carefully to find if she had not some bones broken. but no, he could find none. indeed it was some hours before this poor silly gentleman began to suspect the truth, which was that his vixen had practised a deception upon him, and all the time he was bemoaning his loss in such heartrending terms, she was only shamming death to run away directly she was able. if it had not been that the yard gates were shut, which was a mere chance, she had got her liberty by that trick. and that this was only a trick of hers to sham dead was plain when he had thought it over. indeed it is an old and time-honoured trick of the fox. it is in aesop and a hundred other writers have confirmed it since. but so thoroughly had he been deceived by her, that at first he was as much overcome with joy at his wife still being alive, as he had been with grief a little while before, thinking her dead. he took her in his arms, hugging her to him and thanking god a dozen times for her preservation. but his kissing and fondling her had very little effect now, for she did not answer him by licking or soft looks, but stayed huddled up and sullen, with her hair bristling on her neck and her ears laid back every time he touched her. at first he thought this might be because he had touched some broken bone or tender place where she had been hurt, but at last the truth came to him. thus he was again to suffer, and though the pain of knowing her treachery to him was nothing to the grief of losing her, yet it was more insidious and lasting. at first, from a mere nothing, this pain grew gradually until it was a torture to him. if he had been one of your stock ordinary husbands, such a one who by experience has learnt never to enquire too closely into his wife's doings, her comings or goings, and never to ask her, "how she has spent the day?" for fear he should be made the more of a fool, had mr. tebrick been such a one he had been luckier, and his pain would have been almost nothing. but you must consider that he had never been deceived once by his wife in the course of their married life. no, she had never told him as much as one white lie, but had always been frank, open and ingenuous as if she and her husband were not husband and wife, or indeed of opposite sexes. yet we must rate him as very foolish, that living thus with a fox, which beast has the same reputation for deceitfulness, craft and cunning, in all countries, all ages, and amongst all races of mankind, he should expect this fox to be as candid and honest with him in all things as the country girl he had married. his wife's sullenness and bad temper continued that day, for she cowered away from him and hid under the sofa, nor could he persuade her to come out from there. even when it was her dinner time she stayed, refusing resolutely to be tempted out with food, and lying so quiet that he heard nothing from her for hours. at night he carried her up to the bedroom, but she was still sullen and refused to eat a morsel, though she drank a little water during the night, when she fancied he was asleep. the next morning was the same, and by now mr. tebrick had been through all the agonies of wounded self-esteem, disillusionment and despair that a man can suffer. but though his emotions rose up in his heart and nearly stifled him he showed no sign of them to her, neither did he abate one jot his tenderness and consideration for his vixen. at breakfast he tempted her with a freshly killed young pullet. it hurt him to make this advance to her, for hitherto he had kept her strictly on cooked meats, but the pain of seeing her refuse it was harder still for him to bear. added to this was now an anxiety lest she should starve herself to death rather than stay with him any longer. all that morning he kept her close, but in the afternoon let her loose again in the garden after he had lopped the pear tree so that she could not repeat her performance of climbing. but seeing how disgustedly she looked while he was by, never offering to run or to play as she was used, but only standing stock still with her tail between her legs, her ears flattened, and the hair bristling on her shoulders, seeing this he left her to herself out of mere humanity. when he came out after half-an-hour he found that she was gone, but there was a fair sized hole by the wall, and she just buried all but her brush, digging desperately to get under the wall and make her escape. he ran up to the hole, and put his arm in after her and called to her to come out, but she would not. so at first he began pulling her out by the shoulder, then his hold slipping, by the hind legs. as soon as he had drawn her forth she whipped round and snapped at his hand and bit it through near the joint of the thumb, but let it go instantly. they stayed there for a minute facing each other, he on his knees and she facing him the picture of unrepentant wickedness and fury. being thus on his knees, mr. tebrick was down on her level very nearly, and her muzzle was thrust almost into his face. her ears lay flat on her head, her gums were bared in a silent snarl, and all her beautiful teeth threatening him that she would bite him again. her back too was half-arched, all her hair bristling and her brush held drooping. but it was her eyes that held his, with their slit pupils looking at him with savage desperation and rage. the blood ran very freely from his hand but he never noticed that or the pain of it either, for all his thoughts were for his wife. "what is this, silvia?" he said very quietly, "what is this? why are you so savage now? if i stand between you and your freedom it is because i love you. is it such torment to be with me?" but silvia never stirred a muscle. "you would not do this if you were not in anguish, poor beast, you want your freedom. i cannot keep you, i cannot hold you to vows made when you were a woman. why, you have forgotten who i am." the tears then began running down his cheeks, he sobbed, and said to her: "go--i shall not keep you. poor beast, poor beast, i love you, i love you. go if you want to. but if you remember me come back. i shall never keep you against your will. go--go. but kiss me now." he leant forward then and put his lips to her snarling fangs, but though she kept snarling she did not bite him. then he got up quickly and went to the door of the garden that opened into a little paddock against a wood. when he opened it she went through it like an arrow, crossed the paddock like a puff of smoke and in a moment was gone from his sight. then, suddenly finding himself alone, mr. tebrick came as it were to himself and ran after her, calling her by name and shouting to her, and so went plunging into the wood, and through it for about a mile, running almost blindly. at last when he was worn out he sat down, seeing that she had gone beyond recovery and it was already night. then, rising, he walked slowly homewards, wearied and spent in spirit. as he went he bound up his hand that was still running with blood. his coat was torn, his hat lost, and his face scratched right across with briars. now in cold blood he began to reflect on what he had done and to repent bitterly having set his wife free. he had betrayed her so that now, from his act, she must lead the life of a wild fox for ever, and must undergo all the rigours and hardships of the climate, and all the hazards of a hunted creature. when mr. tebrick got back to the cottage he found mrs. cork was sitting up for him. it was already late. "what have you done with mrs. tebrick, sir? i missed her, and i missed you, and i have not known what to do, expecting something dreadful had happened. i have been sitting up for you half the night. and where is she now, sir?" she accosted him so vigorously that mr. tebrick stood silent. at length he said: "i have let her go. she has run away." "poor miss silvia!" cried the old woman, "poor creature! you ought to be ashamed, sir! let her go indeed! poor lady, is that the way for her husband to talk! it is a disgrace. but i saw it coming from the first." the old woman was white with fury, she did not mind what she said, but mr. tebrick was not listening to her. at last he looked at her and saw that she had just begun to cry, so he went out of the room and up to bed, and lay down as he was, in his clothes, utterly exhausted, and fell into a dog's sleep, starting up every now and then with horror, and then falling back with fatigue. it was late when he woke up, but cold and raw, and he felt cramped in all his limbs. as he lay he heard again the noise which had woken him--the trotting of several horses, and the voices of men riding by the house. mr. tebrick jumped up and ran to the window and then looked out, and the first thing that he saw was a gentleman in a pink coat riding at a walk down the lane. at this sight mr. tebrick waited no longer, but pulling on his boots in mad haste, ran out instantly, meaning to say that they must not hunt, and how his wife was escaped and they might kill her. but when he found himself outside the cottage words failed him and fury took possession of him, so that he could only cry out: "how dare you, you damned blackguard?" and so, with a stick in his hand, he threw himself on the gentleman in the pink coat and seized his horse's rein, and catching the gentleman by the leg was trying to throw him. but really it is impossible to say what mr. tebrick intended by his behaviour or what he would have done, for the gentleman finding himself suddenly assaulted in so unexpected a fashion by so strange a touzled and dishevelled figure, clubbed his hunting crop and dealt him a blow on the temple so that he fell insensible. another gentleman rode up at this moment and they were civil enough to dismount and carry mr. tebrick into the cottage, where they were met by old nanny who kept wringing her hands and told them mr. tebrick's wife had run away and she was a vixen, and that was the cause that mr. tebrick had run out and assaulted them. the two gentlemen could not help laughing at this; and mounting their horses rode on without delay, after telling each other that mr. tebrick, whoever he was, was certainly a madman, and the old woman seemed as mad as her master. this story, however, went the rounds of the gentry in those parts and perfectly confirmed everyone in their previous opinion, namely that mr. tebrick was mad and his wife had run away from him. the part about her being a vixen was laughed at by the few that heard it, but was soon left out as immaterial to the story, and incredible in itself, though afterwards it came to be remembered and its significance to be understood. when mr. tebrick came to himself it was past noon, and his head was aching so painfully that he could only call to mind in a confused way what had happened. however, he sent off mrs. cork's son directly on one of his horses to enquire about the hunt. at the same time he gave orders to old nanny that she was to put out food and water for her mistress, on the chance that she might yet be in the neighbourhood. by nightfall simon was back with the news that the hunt had had a very long run but had lost one fox, then, drawing a covert, had chopped an old dog fox, and so ended the day's sport. this put poor mr. tebrick in some hopes again, and he rose at once from his bed, and went out to the wood and began calling his wife, but was overcome with faintness, and lay down and so passed the night in the open, from mere weakness. in the morning he got back again to the cottage but he had taken a chill, and so had to keep his bed for three or four days after. all this time he had food put out for her every night, but though rats came to it and ate of it, there were never any prints of a fox. at last his anxiety began working another way, that is he came to think it possible that his vixen would have gone back to stokoe, so he had his horses harnessed in the dogcart and brought to the door and then drove over to rylands, though he was still in a fever, and with a heavy cold upon him. after that he lived always solitary, keeping away from his fellows and only seeing one man, called askew, who had been brought up a jockey at wantage, but was grown too big for his profession. he mounted this loafing fellow on one of his horses three days a week and had him follow the hunt and report to him whenever they killed, and if he could view the fox so much the better, and then he made him describe it minutely, so he should know if it were his silvia. but he dared not trust himself to go himself, lest his passion should master him and he might commit a murder. every time there was a hunt in the neighbourhood he set the gates wide open at rylands and the house doors also, and taking his gun stood sentinel in the hope that his wife would run in if she were pressed by the hounds, and so he could save her. but only once a hunt came near, when two fox-hounds that had lost the main pack strayed on to his land and he shot them instantly and buried them afterwards himself. it was not long now to the end of the season, as it was the middle of march. but living as he did at this time, mr. tebrick grew more and more to be a true misanthrope. he denied admittance to any that came to visit him, and rarely showed himself to his fellows, but went out chiefly in the early mornings before people were about, in the hope of seeing his beloved fox. indeed it was only this hope that he would see her again that kept him alive, for he had become so careless of his own comfort in every way that he very seldom ate a proper meal, taking no more than a crust of bread with a morsel of cheese in the whole day, though sometimes he would drink half a bottle of whiskey to drown his sorrow and to get off to sleep, for sleep fled from him, and no sooner did he begin dozing but he awoke with a start thinking he had heard something. he let his beard grow too, and though he had always been very particular in his person before, he now was utterly careless of it, gave up washing himself for a week or two at a stretch, and if there was dirt under his finger nails let it stop there. all this disorder fed a malignant pleasure in him. for by now he had come to hate his fellow men and was embittered against all human decencies and decorum. for strange to tell he never once in these months regretted his dear wife whom he had so much loved. no, all that he grieved for now was his departed vixen. he was haunted all this time not by the memory of a sweet and gentle woman, but by the recollection of an animal; a beast it is true that could sit at table and play piquet when it would, but for all that nothing really but a wild beast. his one hope now was the recovery of this beast, and of this he dreamed continually. likewise both waking and sleeping he was visited by visions of her; her mask, her full white-tagged brush, white throat, and the thick fur in her ears all haunted him. every one of her foxey ways was now so absolutely precious to him that i believe that if he had known for certain she was dead, and had thoughts of marrying a second time, he would never have been happy with a woman. no, indeed, he would have been more tempted to get himself a tame fox, and would have counted that as good a marriage as he could make. yet this all proceeded one may say from a passion, and a true conjugal fidelity, that it would be hard to find matched in this world. and though we may think him a fool, almost a madman, we must, when we look closer, find much to respect in his extraordinary devotion. how different indeed was he from those who, if their wives go mad, shut them in madhouses and give themselves up to concubinage, and nay, what is more, there are many who extenuate such conduct too. but mr. tebrick was of a very different temper, and though his wife was now nothing but a hunted beast, cared for no one in the world but her. but this devouring love ate into him like a consumption, so that by sleepless nights, and not caring for his person, in a few months he was worn to the shadow of himself. his cheeks were sunk in, his eyes hollow but excessively brilliant, and his whole body had lost flesh, so that looking at him the wonder was that he was still alive. now that the hunting season was over he had less anxiety for her, yet even so he was not positive that the hounds had not got her. for between the time of his setting her free, and the end of the hunting season (just after easter), there were but three vixens killed near. of those three one was a half-blind or wall-eyed, and one was a very grey dull-coloured beast. the third answered more to the description of his wife, but that it had not much black on the legs, whereas in her the blackness of the legs was very plain to be noticed. but yet his fear made him think that perhaps she had got mired in running and the legs being muddy were not remarked on as black. one morning the first week in may, about four o'clock, when he was out waiting in the little copse, he sat down for a while on a tree stump, and when he looked up saw a fox coming towards him over the ploughed field. it was carrying a hare over its shoulder so that it was nearly all hidden from him. at last, when it was not twenty yards from him, it crossed over, going into the copse, when mr. tebrick stood up and cried out, "silvia, silvia, is it you?" the fox dropped the hare out of his mouth and stood looking at him, and then our gentleman saw at the first glance that this was not his wife. for whereas mrs. tebrick had been of a very bright red, this was a swarthier duller beast altogether, moreover it was a good deal larger and higher at the shoulder and had a great white tag to his brush. but the fox after the first instant did not stand for his portrait you may be sure, but picked up his hare and made off like an arrow. then mr. tebrick cried out to himself: "indeed i am crazy now! my affliction has made me lose what little reason i ever had. here am i taking every fox i see to be my wife! my neighbours call me a madman and now i see that they are right. look at me now, oh god! how foul a creature i am. i hate my fellows. i am thin and wasted by this consuming passion, my reason is gone and i feed myself on dreams. recall me to my duty, bring me back to decency, let me not become a beast likewise, but restore me and forgive me, oh my lord." with that he burst into scalding tears and knelt down and prayed, a thing he had not done for many weeks. when he rose up he walked back feeling giddy and exceedingly weak, but with a contrite heart, and then washed himself thoroughly and changed his clothes, but his weakness increasing he lay down for the rest of the day, but read in the book of job and was much comforted. for several days after this he lived very soberly, for his weakness continued, but every day he read in the bible, and prayed earnestly, so that his resolution was so much strengthened that he determined to overcome his folly, or his passion, if he could, and at any rate to live the rest of his life very religiously. so strong was this desire in him to amend his ways that he considered if he should not go to spread the gospel abroad, for the bible society, and so spend the rest of his days. indeed he began a letter to his wife's uncle, the canon, and he was writing this when he was startled by hearing a fox bark. yet so great was this new turn he had taken that he did not rush out at once, as he would have done before, but stayed where he was and finished his letter. afterwards he said to himself that it was only a wild fox and sent by the devil to mock him, and that madness lay that way if he should listen. but on the other hand he could not deny to himself that it might have been his wife, and that he ought to welcome the prodigal. thus he was torn between these two thoughts, neither of which did he completely believe. he stayed thus tormented with doubts and fears all night. the next morning he woke suddenly with a start and on the instant heard a fox bark once more. at that he pulled on his clothes and ran out as fast as he could to the garden gate. the sun was not yet high, the dew thick everywhere, and for a minute or two everything was very silent. he looked about him eagerly but could see no fox, yet there was already joy in his heart. then while he looked up and down the road, he saw his vixen step out of the copse about thirty yards away. he called to her at once. "my dearest wife! oh, silvia! you are come back!" and at the sound of his voice he saw her wag her tail, which set his last doubts at rest. but then though he called her again, she stepped into the copse once more though she looked back at him over her shoulder as she went. at this he ran after her, but softly and not too fast lest he should frighten her away, and then looked about for her again and called to her when he saw her among the trees still keeping her distance from him. he followed her then, and as he approached so she retreated from him, yet always looking back at him several times. he followed after her through the underwood up the side of the hill, when suddenly she disappeared from his sight, behind some bracken. when he got there he could see her nowhere, but looking about him found a fox's earth, but so well hidden that he might have passed it by a thousand times and would never have found it unless he had made particular search at that spot. but now, though he went on his hands and knees, he could see nothing of his vixen, so that he waited a little while wondering. presently he heard a noise of something moving in the earth, and so waited silently, then saw something which pushed itself into sight. it was a small sooty black beast, like a puppy. there came another behind it, then another and so on till there were five of them. lastly there came his vixen pushing her litter before her, and while he looked at her silently, a prey to his confused and unhappy emotions, he saw that her eyes were shining with pride and happiness. she picked up one of her youngsters then, in her mouth, and brought it to him and laid it in front of him, and then looked up at him very excited, or so it seemed. mr. tebrick took the cub in his hands, stroked it and put it against his cheek. it was a little fellow with a smutty face and paws, with staring vacant eyes of a brilliant electric blue and a little tail like a carrot. when he was put down he took a step towards his mother and then sat down very comically. mr. tebrick looked at his wife again and spoke to her, calling her a good creature. already he was resigned and now, indeed, for the first time he thoroughly understood what had happened to her, and how far apart they were now. but looking first at one cub, then at another, and having them sprawling over his lap, he forgot himself, only watching the pretty scene, and taking pleasure in it. now and then he would stroke his vixen and kiss her, liberties which she freely allowed him. he marvelled more than ever now at her beauty; for her gentleness with the cubs and the extreme delight she took in them seemed to him then to make her more lovely than before. thus lying amongst them at the mouth of the earth he idled away the whole of the morning. first he would play with one, then with another, rolling them over and tickling them, but they were too young yet to lend themselves to any other more active sport than this. every now and then he would stroke his vixen, or look at her, and thus the time slipped away quite fast and he was surprised when she gathered her cubs together and pushed them before her into the earth, then coming back to him once or twice very humanly bid him "good-bye and that she hoped she would see him soon again, now he had found out the way." so admirably did she express her meaning that it would have been superfluous for her to have spoken had she been able, and mr. tebrick, who was used to her, got up at once and went home. but now that he was alone, all the feelings which he had not troubled himself with when he was with her, but had, as it were, put aside till after his innocent pleasures were over, all these came swarming back to assail him in a hundred tormenting ways. firstly he asked himself: was not his wife unfaithful to him, had she not prostituted herself to a beast? could he still love her after that? but this did not trouble him so much as it might have done. for now he was convinced inwardly that she could no longer in fairness be judged as a woman, but as a fox only. and as a fox she had done no more than other foxes, indeed in having cubs and tending them with love, she had done well. whether in this conclusion mr. tebrick was in the right or not, is not for us here to consider. but i would only say to those who would censure him for a too lenient view of the religious side of the matter, that we have not seen the thing as he did, and perhaps if it were displayed before our eyes we might be led to the same conclusions. this was, however, not a tenth part of the trouble in which mr. tebrick found himself. for he asked himself also: "was he not jealous?" and looking into his heart he found that he was indeed jealous, yes, and angry too, that now he must share his vixen with wild foxes. then he questioned himself if it were not dishonourable to do so, and whether he should not utterly forget her and follow his original intention of retiring from the world, and see her no more. thus he tormented himself for the rest of that day, and by evening he had resolved never to see her again. but in the middle of the night he woke up with his head very clear, and said to himself in wonder, "am i not a madman? i torment myself foolishly with fantastic notions. can a man have his honour sullied by a beast? i am a man, i am immeasurably superior to the animals. can my dignity allow of my being jealous of a beast? a thousand times no. were i to lust after a vixen, i were a criminal indeed. i can be happy in seeing my vixen, for i love her, but she does right to be happy according to the laws of her being." lastly, he said to himself what was, he felt, the truth of this whole matter: "when i am with her i am happy. but now i distort what is simple and drive myself crazy with false reasoning upon it." yet before he slept again he prayed, but though he had thought first to pray for guidance, in reality he prayed only that on the morrow he would see his vixen again and that god would preserve her, and her cubs too, from all dangers, and would allow him to see them often, so that he might come to love them for her sake as if he were their father, and that if this were a sin he might be forgiven, for he sinned in ignorance. the next day or two he saw vixen and cubs again, though his visits were cut shorter, and these visits gave him such an innocent pleasure that very soon his notions of honour, duty and so on, were entirely forgotten, and his jealousy lulled asleep. one day he tried taking with him the stereoscope and a pack of cards. but though his silvia was affectionate and amiable enough to let him put the stereoscope over her muzzle, yet she would not look through it, but kept turning her head to lick his hand, and it was plain to him that now she had quite forgotten the use of the instrument. it was the same too with the cards. for with them she was pleased enough, but only delighting to bite at them, and flip them about with her paws, and never considering for a moment whether they were diamonds or clubs, or hearts, or spades or whether the card was an ace or not. so it was evident that she had forgotten the nature of cards too. thereafter he only brought them things which she could better enjoy, that is sugar, grapes, raisins, and butcher's meat. by-and-bye, as the summer wore on, the cubs came to know him, and he them, so that he was able to tell them easily apart, and then he christened them. for this purpose he brought a little bowl of water, sprinkled them as if in baptism and told them he was their godfather and gave each of them a name, calling them sorel, kasper, selwyn, esther, and angelica. sorel was a clumsy little beast of a cheery and indeed puppyish disposition; kasper was fierce, the largest of the five, even in his play he would always bite, and gave his godfather many a sharp nip as time went on. esther was of a dark complexion, a true brunette and very sturdy; angelica the brightest red and the most exactly like her mother; while selwyn was the smallest cub, of a very prying, inquisitive and cunning temper, but delicate and undersized. thus mr. tebrick had a whole family now to occupy him, and, indeed, came to love them with very much of a father's love and partiality. his favourite was angelica (who reminded him so much of her mother in her pretty ways) because of a gentleness which was lacking in the others, even in their play. after her in his affections came selwyn, whom he soon saw was the most intelligent of the whole litter. indeed he was so much more quick-witted than the rest that mr. tebrick was led into speculating as to whether he had not inherited something of the human from his dam. thus very early he learnt to know his name, and would come when he was called, and what was stranger still, he learnt the names of his brothers and sisters before they came to do so themselves. besides all this he was something of a young philosopher, for though his brother kasper tyrannized over him he put up with it all with an unruffled temper. he was not, however, above playing tricks on the others, and one day when mr. tebrick was by, he made believe that there was a mouse in a hole some little way off. very soon he was joined by sorel, and presently by kasper and esther. when he had got them all digging, it was easy for him to slip away, and then he came to his godfather with a sly look, sat down before him, and smiled and then jerked his head over towards the others and smiled again and wrinkled his brows so that mr. tebrick knew as well as if he had spoken that the youngster was saying, "have i not made fools of them all?" he was the only one that was curious about mr. tebrick: he made him take out his watch, put his ear to it, considered it and wrinkled up his brows in perplexity. on the next visit it was the same thing. he must see the watch again, and again think over it. but clever as he was, little selwyn could never understand it, and if his mother remembered anything about watches it was a subject which she never attempted to explain to her children. one day mr. tebrick left the earth as usual and ran down the slope to the road, when he was surprised to find a carriage waiting before his house and a coachman walking about near his gate. mr. tebrick went in and found that his visitor was waiting for him. it was his wife's uncle. they shook hands, though the rev. canon fox did not recognise him immediately, and mr. tebrick led him into the house. the clergyman looked about him a good deal, at the dirty and disorderly rooms, and when mr. tebrick took him into the drawing room it was evident that it had been unused for several months, the dust lay so thickly on all the furniture. after some conversation on indifferent topics canon fox said to him: "i have called really to ask about my niece." mr. tebrick was silent for some time and then said: "she is quite happy now." "ah--indeed. i have heard she is not living with you any longer." "no. she is not living with me. she is not far away. i see her every day now." "indeed. where does she live?" "in the woods with her children. i ought to tell you that she has changed her shape. she is a fox." the rev. canon fox got up; he was alarmed, and everything mr. tebrick said confirmed what he had been led to expect he would find at rylands. when he was outside, however, he asked mr. tebrick: "you don't have many visitors now, eh?" "no--i never see anyone if i can avoid it. you are the first person i have spoken to for months." "quite right, too, my dear fellow. i quite understand--in the circumstances." then the cleric shook him by the hand, got into his carriage and drove away. "at any rate," he said to himself, "there will be no scandal." he was relieved also because mr. tebrick had said nothing about going abroad to disseminate the gospel. canon fox had been alarmed by the letter, had not answered it, and thought that it was always better to let things be, and never to refer to anything unpleasant. he did not at all want to recommend mr. tebrick to the bible society if he were mad. his eccentricities would never be noticed at stokoe. besides that, mr. tebrick had said he was happy. he was sorry for mr. tebrick too, and he said to himself that the queer girl, his niece, must have married him because he was the first man she had met. he reflected also that he was never likely to see her again and said aloud, when he had driven some little way: "not an affectionate disposition," then to his coachman: "no, that's all right. drive on, hopkins." when mr. tebrick was alone he rejoiced exceedingly in his solitary life. he understood, or so he fancied, what it was to be happy, and that he had found complete happiness now, living from day to day, careless of the future, surrounded every morning by playful and affectionate little creatures whom he loved tenderly, and sitting beside their mother, whose simple happiness was the source of his own. "true happiness," he said to himself, "is to be found in bestowing love; there is no such happiness as that of the mother for her babe, unless i have attained it in mine for my vixen and her children." with these feelings he waited impatiently for the hour on the morrow when he might hasten to them once more. when, however, he had toiled up the hillside, to the earth, taking infinite precaution not to tread down the bracken, or make a beaten path which might lead others to that secret spot, he found to his surprise that silvia was not there and that there were no cubs to be seen either. he called to them, but it was in vain, and at last he laid himself on the mossy bank beside the earth and waited. for a long while, as it seemed to him, he lay very still, with closed eyes, straining his ears to hear every rustle among the leaves, or any sound that might be the cubs stirring in the earth. at last he must have dropped asleep, for he woke suddenly with all his senses alert, and opening his eyes found a full-grown fox within six feet of him sitting on its haunches like a dog and watching his face with curiosity. mr. tebrick saw instantly that it was not silvia. when he moved the fox got up and shifted his eyes, but still stood his ground, and mr. tebrick recognised him then for the dog-fox he had seen once before carrying a hare. it was the same dark beast with a large white tag to his brush. now the secret was out and mr. tebrick could see his rival before him. here was the real father of his godchildren, who could be certain of their taking after him, and leading over again his wild and rakish life. mr. tebrick stared for a long time at the handsome rogue, who glanced back at him with distrust and watchfulness patent in his face, but not without defiance too, and it seemed to mr. tebrick as if there was also a touch of cynical humour in his look, as if he said: "by gad! we two have been strangely brought together!" and to the man, at any rate, it seemed strange that they were thus linked, and he wondered if the love his rival there bare to his vixen and his cubs were the same thing in kind as his own. "we would both of us give our lives for theirs," he said to himself as he reasoned upon it, "we both of us are happy chiefly in their company. what pride this fellow must feel to have such a wife, and such children taking after him. and has he not reason for his pride? he lives in a world where he is beset with a thousand dangers. for half the year he is hunted, everywhere dogs pursue him, men lay traps for him or menace him. he owes nothing to another." but he did not speak, knowing that his words would only alarm the fox; then in a few minutes he saw the dog-fox look over his shoulder, and then he trotted off as lightly as a gossamer veil blown in the wind, and, in a minute or two more, back he comes with his vixen and the cubs all around him. seeing the dog-fox thus surrounded by vixen and cubs was too much for mr. tebrick; in spite of all his philosophy a pang of jealousy shot through him. he could see that silvia had been hunting with her cubs, and also that she had forgotten that he would come that morning, for she started when she saw him, and though she carelessly licked his hand, he could see that her thoughts were not with him. very soon she led her cubs into the earth, the dog-fox had vanished and mr. tebrick was again alone. he did not wait longer but went home. now was his peace of mind all gone, the happiness which he had flattered himself the night before he knew so well how to enjoy, seemed now but a fool's paradise in which he had been living. a hundred times this poor gentleman bit his lip, drew down his torvous brows, and stamped his foot, and cursed himself bitterly, or called his lady bitch. he could not forgive himself neither, that he had not thought of the damned dog-fox before, but all the while had let the cubs frisk round him, each one a proof that a dog-fox had been at work with his vixen. yes, jealousy was now in the wind, and every circumstance which had been a reason for his felicity the night before was now turned into a monstrous feature of his nightmare. with all this mr. tebrick so worked upon himself that for the time being he had lost his reason. black was white and white black, and he was resolved that on the morrow he would dig the vile brood of foxes out and shoot them, and so free himself at last from this hellish plague. all that night he was in this mood, and in agony, as if he had broken in the crown of a tooth and bitten on the nerve. but as all things will have an ending so at last mr. tebrick, worn out and wearied by this loathed passion of jealousy, fell into an uneasy and tormented sleep. after an hour or two the procession of confused and jumbled images which first assailed him passed away and subsided into one clear and powerful dream. his wife was with him in her own proper shape, walking as they had been on that fatal day before her transformation. yet she was changed too, for in her face there were visible tokens of unhappiness, her face swollen with crying, pale and downcast, her hair hanging in disorder, her damp hands wringing a small handkerchief into a ball, her whole body shaken with sobs, and an air of long neglect about her person. between her sobs she was confessing to him some crime which she had committed, but he did not catch the broken words, nor did he wish to hear them, for he was dulled by his sorrow. so they continued walking together in sadness as it were for ever, he with his arm about her waist, she turning her head to him and often casting her eyes down in distress. at last they sat down, and he spoke, saying: "i know they are not my children, but i shall not use them barbarously because of that. you are still my wife. i swear to you they shall never be neglected. i will pay for their education." then he began turning over the names of schools in his mind. eton would not do, nor harrow, nor winchester, nor rugby.... but he could not tell why these schools would not do for these children of hers, he only knew that every school he thought of was impossible, but surely one could be found. so turning over the names of schools he sat for a long while holding his dear wife's hand, till at length, still weeping, she got up and went away and then slowly he awoke. but even when he had opened his eyes and looked about him he was thinking of schools, saying to himself that he must send them to a private academy, or even at the worst engage a tutor. "why, yes," he said to himself, putting one foot out of bed, "that is what it must be, a tutor, though even then there will be a difficulty at first." at those words he wondered what difficulty there would be and recollected that they were not ordinary children. no, they were foxes--mere foxes. when poor mr. tebrick had remembered this he was, as it were, dazed or stunned by the fact, and for a long time he could understand nothing, but at last burst into a flood of tears compassionating them and himself too. the awfulness of the fact itself, that his dear wife should have foxes instead of children, filled him with an agony of pity, and, at length, when he recollected the cause of their being foxes, that is that his wife was a fox also, his tears broke out anew, and he could bear it no longer but began calling out in his anguish, and beat his head once or twice against the wall, and then cast himself down on his bed again and wept and wept, sometimes tearing the sheets asunder with his teeth. the whole of that day, for he was not to go to the earth till evening, he went about sorrowfully, torn by true pity for his poor vixen and her children. at last when the time came he went again up to the earth, which he found deserted, but hearing his voice, out came esther. but though he called the others by their names there was no answer, and something in the way the cub greeted him made him fancy she was indeed alone. she was truly rejoiced to see him, and scrambled up into his arms, and thence to his shoulder, kissing him, which was unusual in her (though natural enough in her sister angelica). he sat down a little way from the earth fondling her, and fed her with some fish he had brought for her mother, which she ate so ravenously that he concluded she must have been short of food that day and probably alone for some time. at last while he was sitting there esther pricked up her ears, started up, and presently mr. tebrick saw his vixen come towards them. she greeted him very affectionately but it was plain had not much time to spare, for she soon started back whence she had come with esther at her side. when they had gone about a rod the cub hung back and kept stopping and looking back to the earth, and at last turned and ran back home. but her mother was not to be fobbed off so, for she quickly overtook her child and gripping her by the scruff began to drag her along with her. mr. tebrick, seeing then how matters stood, spoke to her, telling her he would carry esther if she would lead, so after a little while silvia gave her over, and then they set out on their strange journey. silvia went running on a little before while mr. tebrick followed after with esther in his arms whimpering and struggling now to be free, and indeed, once she gave him a nip with her teeth. this was not so strange a thing to him now, and he knew the remedy for it, which is much the same as with others whose tempers run too high, that is a taste of it themselves. mr. tebrick shook her and gave her a smart little cuff, after which, though she sulked, she stopped her biting. they went thus above a mile, circling his house and crossing the highway until they gained a small covert that lay with some waste fields adjacent to it. and by this time it was so dark that it was all mr. tebrick could do to pick his way, for it was not always easy for him to follow where his vixen found a big enough road for herself. but at length they came to another earth, and by the starlight mr. tebrick could just make out the other cubs skylarking in the shadows. now he was tired, but he was happy and laughed softly for joy, and presently his vixen, coming to him, put her feet upon his shoulders as he sat on the ground, and licked him, and he kissed her back on the muzzle and gathered her in his arms and rolled her in his jacket and then laughed and wept by turns in the excess of his joy. all his jealousies of the night before were forgotten now. all his desperate sorrow of the morning and the horror of his dream were gone. what if they were foxes? mr. tebrick found that he could be happy with them. as the weather was hot he lay out there all the night, first playing hide and seek with them in the dark till, missing his vixen and the cubs proving obstreperous, he lay down and was soon asleep. he was woken up soon after dawn by one of the cubs tugging at his shoelaces in play. when he sat up he saw two of the cubs standing near him on their hind legs, wrestling with each other, the other two were playing hide and seek round a tree trunk, and now angelica let go his laces and came romping into his arms to kiss him and say "good morning" to him, then worrying the points of his waistcoat a little shyly after the warmth of his embrace. that moment of awakening was very sweet to him. the freshness of the morning, the scent of everything at the day's rebirth, the first beams of the sun upon a tree-top near, and a pigeon rising into the air suddenly, all delighted him. even the rough scent of the body of the cub in his arms seemed to him delicious. at that moment all human customs and institutions seemed to him nothing but folly; for said he, "i would exchange all my life as a man for my happiness now, and even now i retain almost all of the ridiculous conceptions of a man. the beasts are happier and i will deserve that happiness as best i can." after he had looked at the cubs playing merrily, how, with soft stealth, one would creep behind another to bounce out and startle him, a thought came into mr. tebrick's head, and that was that these cubs were innocent, they were as stainless snow, they could not sin, for god had created them to be thus and they could break none of his commandments. and he fancied also that men sin because they cannot be as the animals. presently he got up full of happiness, and began making his way home when suddenly he came to a full stop and asked himself: "what is going to happen to them?" this question rooted him stockishly in a cold and deadly fear as if he had seen a snake before him. at last he shook his head and hurried on his path. aye, indeed, what would become of his vixen and her children? this thought put him into such a fever of apprehension that he did his best not to think of it any more, but yet it stayed with him all that day and for weeks after, at the back of his mind, so that he was not careless in his happiness as before, but as it were trying continually to escape his own thoughts. this made him also anxious to pass all the time he could with his dear silvia, and, therefore, he began going out to them for more of the daytime, and then he would sleep the night in the woods also as he had done that night; and so he passed several weeks, only returning to his house occasionally to get himself a fresh provision of food. but after a week or ten days at the new earth both his vixen and the cubs, too, got a new habit of roaming. for a long while back, as he knew, his vixen had been lying out alone most of the day, and now the cubs were all for doing the same thing. the earth, in short, had served its purpose and was now distasteful to them, and they would not enter it unless pressed with fear. this new manner of their lives was an added grief to mr. tebrick, for sometimes he missed them for hours together, or for the whole day even, and not knowing where they might be was lonely and anxious. yet his silvia was thoughtful for him too and would often send angelica or another of the cubs to fetch him to their new lair, or come herself if she could spare the time. for now they were all perfectly accustomed to his presence, and had come to look on him as their natural companion, and although he was in many ways irksome to them by scaring rabbits, yet they always rejoiced to see him when they had been parted from him. this friendliness of theirs was, you may be sure, the source of most of mr. tebrick's happiness at this time. indeed he lived now for nothing but his foxes, his love for his vixen had extended itself insensibly to include her cubs, and these were now his daily playmates so that he knew them as well as if they had been his own children. with selwyn and angelica indeed he was always happy; and they never so much as when they were with him. he was not stiff in his behaviour either, but had learnt by this time as much from his foxes as they had from him. indeed never was there a more curious alliance than this or one with stranger effects upon both of the parties. mr. tebrick now could follow after them anywhere and keep up with them too, and could go through a wood as silently as a deer. he learnt to conceal himself if ever a labourer passed by so that he was rarely seen, and never but once in their company. but what was most strange of all, he had got a way of going doubled up, often almost on all fours with his hands touching the ground every now and then, particularly when he went uphill. he hunted with them too sometimes, chiefly by coming up and scaring rabbits towards where the cubs lay ambushed, so that the bunnies ran straight into their jaws. he was useful to them in other ways, climbing up and robbing pigeon's nests for the eggs which they relished exceedingly, or by occasionally dispatching a hedgehog for them so they did not get the prickles in their mouths. but while on his part he thus altered his conduct, they on their side were not behindhand, but learnt a dozen human tricks from him that are ordinarily wanting in reynard's education. one evening he went to a cottager who had a row of skeps, and bought one of them, just as it was after the man had smothered the bees. this he carried to the foxes that they might taste the honey, for he had seen them dig out wild bees' nests often enough. the skep full was indeed a wonderful feast for them, they bit greedily into the heavy scented comb, their jaws were drowned in the sticky flood of sweetness, and they gorged themselves on it without restraint. when they had crunched up the last morsel they tore the skep in pieces, and for hours afterwards they were happily employed in licking themselves clean. that night he slept near their lair, but they left him and went hunting. in the morning when he woke he was quite numb with cold, and faint with hunger. a white mist hung over everything and the wood smelt of autumn. he got up and stretched his cramped limbs, and then walked homewards. the summer was over and mr. tebrick noticed this now for the first time and was astonished. he reflected that the cubs were fast growing up, they were foxes at all points, and yet when he thought of the time when they had been sooty and had blue eyes it seemed to him only yesterday. from that he passed to thinking of the future, asking himself as he had done once before what would become of his vixen and her children. before the winter he must tempt them into the security of his garden, and fortify it against all the dangers that threatened them. but though he tried to allay his fear with such resolutions he remained uneasy all that day. when he went out to them that afternoon he found only his wife silvia there and it was plain to him that she too was alarmed, but alas, poor creature, she could tell him nothing, only lick his hands and face, and turn about pricking her ears at every sound. "where are your children, silvia?" he asked her several times, but she was impatient of his questions, but at last sprang into his arms, flattened herself upon his breast and kissed him gently, so that when he departed his heart was lighter because he knew that she still loved him. that night he slept indoors, but in the morning early he was awoken by the sound of trotting horses, and running to the window saw a farmer riding by very sprucely dressed. could they be hunting so soon, he wondered, but presently reassured himself that it could not be a hunt already. he heard no other sound till eleven o'clock in the morning when suddenly there was the clamour of hounds giving tongue and not so far off neither. at this mr. tebrick ran out of his house distracted and set open the gates of his garden, but with iron bars and wire at the top so the huntsmen could not follow. there was silence again; it seems the fox must have turned away, for there was no other sound of the hunt. mr. tebrick was now like one helpless with fear, he dared not go out, yet could not stay still at home. there was nothing that he could do, yet he would not admit this, so he busied himself in making holes in the hedges, so that silvia (or her cubs) could enter from whatever side she came. at last he forced himself to go indoors and sit down and drink some tea. while he was there he fancied he heard the hounds again; it was but a faint ghostly echo of their music, yet when he ran out of the house it was already close at hand in the copse above. now it was that poor mr. tebrick made his great mistake, for hearing the hounds almost outside the gate he ran to meet them, whereas rightly he should have run back to the house. as soon as he reached the gate he saw his wife silvia coming towards him but very tired with running and just upon her the hounds. the horror of that sight pierced him, for ever afterwards he was haunted by those hounds--their eagerness, their desperate efforts to gain on her, and their blind lust for her came at odd moments to frighten him all his life. now he should have run back, though it was already late, but instead he cried out to her, and she ran straight through the open gate to him. what followed was all over in a flash, but it was seen by many witnesses. the side of mr. tebrick's garden there is bounded by a wall, about six feet high and curving round, so that the huntsmen could see over this wall inside. one of them indeed put his horse at it very boldly, which was risking his neck, and although he got over safe was too late to be of much assistance. his vixen had at once sprung into mr. tebrick's arms, and before he could turn back the hounds were upon them and had pulled them down. then at that moment there was a scream of despair heard by all the field that had come up, which they declared afterwards was more like a woman's voice than a man's. but yet there was no clear proof whether it was mr. tebrick or his wife who had suddenly regained her voice. when the huntsman who had leapt the wall got to them and had whipped off the hounds mr. tebrick had been terribly mauled and was bleeding from twenty wounds. as for his vixen she was dead, though he was still clasping her dead body in his arms. mr. tebrick was carried into the house at once and assistance sent for, but there was no doubt now about his neighbours being in the right when they called him mad. for a long while his life was despaired of, but at last he rallied, and in the end he recovered his reason and lived to be a great age, for that matter he is still alive. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 44347-h.htm or 44347-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44347/44347-h/44347-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44347/44347-h.zip) [illustration] master reynard the history of a fox from animal autobiographies by j. c. tregarthen revised by jane fielding new york a. l. chatterton co. copyright, 1913 a. l. chatterton co. master reynard the earth where i was born was far down the face of a steep cliff and opened on a sloping shelf of turf, from the edge of which the undercliff fell sheer to the sea. the entrance we used most was slightly above the level of the springy sward and led by a small tunnel to a roomy chamber where daylight never penetrated. there on the bare dry ground the vixen laid us--my two sisters and me. if i was like the baby cubs i have since seen, i was born blind, my muzzle was blunt and rounded, and my coat as black as a crow, the only white about me being a few hairs in the tag of my tiny brush. even at the time when i first remember what i was like my fur was still a very dark color and bore no resemblance to the russet hue of a full-grown fox. this was a few weeks after my eyes were opened, when, after awaking from our first sleep, we were in the habit of sunning ourselves just inside the mouth of the earth. it was there, with my muzzle resting on the vixen's flank, that i got my earliest glimpse of the world. the turf was then almost hidden by pink flowers, over the heads of which i could see, between two of the pinnacles that bordered the ledge, the sea breaking on a reef where the cormorants used to gather at low water and stand with folded or outstretched wings until the rising tide drove them to the big white rock beyond. so few things moved within our field of vision that every creature we saw afforded us the keenest interest. sometimes during days together nothing stirred but the stems of the thrift and the surf about the reef, for the sky was cloudless when the hot weather set in. now and again a red-legged crow came and perched on one of the pinnacles, crying "daw, daw!" until its mate joined it, and then, all too soon, they took wing and flew away; at times a hawk or a peregrine would glide by and break the monotony of our life. our narrow green was dotted by five boulders, and one of these we could see from the earth. on this our most frequent visitor alighted. it was an old raven, who presently dropped to the ground, walked up to the remains of any fowl or rabbit lying near the heap of sandy soil which my mother had scratched out when making the earth, and pecked, pecked, pecked, until only the bones were left. then, uttering his curious "cawpse, cawpse!" he would hop along the ground, flap his big black wings, and pass out of sight. i feel sure that he saw us watching him, for his eyes often turned our way. one afternoon, to our astonishment, a half-grown rabbit came lopping along, and stopped to nibble the turf at a spot barely a good spring from the vixen. she, usually very drowsy, half opened her eyes and turned her face towards the intruder, but she did not rise to her feet. we youngsters were beside ourselves with excitement, but were not allowed to scramble over her side to drive away this audacious trespasser on our private domain. this, i think, was owing to my mother's great anxiety on our account. i have never known a vixen so determined that her cubs should lie hidden by day; but then we were her first litter. she would constantly warn us against venturing out whilst the sun was up. so particular was she that we were not permitted to expose as much as our muzzles outside the earth, though birds and rabbits moved about there freely. we could not understand the restriction, and i fear that we thought it unkind of her to confine us to a cramped, stuffy hole the summer day through, when we longed to be gambolling about the sward or basking in those warm corners under the boulders which retained some of their heat even after the sun went down. it is true that i tried hard to get my liberty. time after time, when i thought she had dozed off, i endeavored to squeeze between her and the low roof. it was of no use, though i used the utmost stealth and trod as lightly as a feather. never once did i catch her napping. on the few occasions when i was on the point of succeeding she seized me between her velvety lips and put me back in my place between my two little sisters. thus, by the kindest of mothers, i was disciplined in the ways of the wild creatures, learning, by constant correction and example, that the world outside the earth is denied to us by day, and is ours to move and play and seek our prey in only by night. and how short those nights were! what a weary, weary time it was, awaiting their approach! how impatiently we watched their slow advent! how we tingled with delight in every limb on seeing the shadow of the high boulder creep and creep across the turf until it reached the pinnacle that had a patch of golden lichen on it! then, as the sun sank behind the headland, the nearer sea became sombre, the bright expanse beyond darkened, and at last the stars would begin to show in the sky. by this my mother had shaken off her drowsiness, the glow had come back into her green eyes, and, rising to her feet, she would leave the earth. if she detected no danger, she would call us to her. what a moment that was! the pent-up energy of hours of restraint breaking out in such rompings and runnings after our own brushes as i have never seen in any other young creatures. wearying at last of these antics and of jumping over the back of the vixen, who watched us with loving eyes, we settled down to the game of lurk and pounce amongst the boulders. to our great delight, the vixen often joined in this before setting out in search of food. her nimbleness and skill in dodging filled us with amazement. like a flash she was on us; there was no avoiding her rushes, though she always avoided ours, and her movements were as silent as the passing of a shadow when a swift cloud crosses the sun. i shall never forget those frolics in which she shared; they not only were useful training for the life before us, as i afterwards realized, but also induced in us a fondness for her so great that we could not bear to have her out of our sight when she left us to seek the food we needed. we would watch her as she followed the narrow track that wound up the cliff, till from the rocks near the top she looked down to assure herself of our safety before going inland. and that was not the last we saw of her. times and times i have caught sight of her bright eyes glittering like twin stars on the summit of the ivy-covered scarp where the magpies built. a more affectionate mother cubs never had; but for the life of me i could not understand why she was so anxious about our safety: i had neither seen nor heard anything in our little world to alarm me. whether she had or not i do not know, but she was haunted by the dread of something, as i could tell by the way she used to look about her and listen when watching our gambols, and by her starting at the slightest unusual sound. her nervousness made me nervous, and, thus infected by my mother's fears, i got to be afraid without in the least knowing what there was to be afraid of. these vague fears were on two occasions the cause of false alarms. once, somewhere along the cliff a dry stick snapped. that was enough. my sisters and i fled in terror to our den, where we were joined a minute later by the anxious vixen who had just left us for a foraging expedition. there was no danger: it was merely a lumbering badger which crossed our playground later on; but i have learnt since that no wild thing can hear the snap of a twig without alarm. the badger was a strange-looking creature: his face was white, with black stripes from ear to muzzle; his gray hair all but swept the ground; and he walked not lightly on his toes as we do but heavily on the soles of his feet. at another time the whistling of harvest curlews frightened us almost out of our lives. these were both needless terrors; but soon i was brought face to face with evidence of a real enemy, the one, no doubt, of whom my mother lived in such dread. it was not many days after the coming of the whimbrels--for the moon, a mere sickle then, had not waxed to half its full size--when two incidents occurred which proved to me, a raw, heedless cub, that there was serious ground for fear. both happened in broad daylight, one close on the heels of the other. one drowsy noon we were watching from our usual place the old raven pecking at the hind-quarters of a rabbit, when with an awful thud a big stone struck the turf close to him, bounded off, and rolled towards the corner of our playground. in a twinkling, before it had stopped rolling, we had retreated to the very end of the earth and there lay trembling, and wondering, even in our consternation, whether the mischievous magpies, who had set up a sudden clamor, were not the cause of our discomfiture. when we stole out in the quiet and dusk, my mother walked straight to the stone and smelt it, and i, being curious, must needs follow her example. what an awesome smell it had! the scent was unlike anything i had sniffed before, and surely not the scent of any beast of the field! the vixen, who stood there watching me, noted the cold shiver it sent through my young limbs and seemed by her expressive face to say: "the creature that tainted that stone is the cause of all my fears," and, further, if i read aright the sad look that rose to her eyes: "he will prove your scourge as he has proved mine." my story will tell whether it has been so. in our games that night i avoided the corner where the stone lay, and so did my sisters. i noticed, too, that the vixen was away in quest of food a shorter time than usual, and did not go out a second time as she had generally done since our appetites had grown. we had, therefore, to satisfy our hunger on the gosling she had brought. this we broke up ourselves with our sharp milk teeth, chattering and quarrelling as was our wont whilst the meagre feast lasted. the vixen contented herself with a few old bones. the other incident was graver, causing injury to my mother. it happened thus. she had gone out one night shortly after--for the moon was still not quite full--but, though absent till nearly dawn, she failed to procure any food. i remember our impatience at her long absence and our disappointment on seeing her issue from the furze without even a few mice in her mouth. however, there was no help for it. the sun was reddening the sky near the horizon, so, supperless and sullen, we curled ourselves up and fell asleep. on awakening, as we did before our usual time, we began to cry pitifully for food, and at length, driven to desperation by our complaints, the vixen stole out at noon, not under cover of mist or fog but with the sun shining in the bluest of skies. ravenous with hunger, we crowded the mouth of the earth, listening for the sound of her returning steps. long, long we harkened without catching any whisper of her approach. at last we heard a muffled, double report, and after an interval the faint patter of her pads. in my anxiety to see what she had brought i put my head out and kept my eyes fixed on the run in the yellow furze through which she always came. never shall i forget my horror at what i saw. instead of her russet face with its black and white marking, her mask below the eyes was all blood and dreadful to behold. i am ashamed to say it, but her appearance terrified me, though i loved her as i loved my life. she staggered into the earth, and took no more notice of us than, if we had been strange cubs, which alarmed me more than her dazed look. the reason of her plight was a puzzle to me, and though the stone, with its horrid association, forced itself upon my notice as a possible cause, i dismissed the idea that it could have done the injury, inasmuch as it was lying where it had rolled. no; in a vague way i attributed her state to the daylight, so great had my fear of it became. ah me, how ignorant i was in those far-away days! we were free now to go and come as we listed, but, famished though we were, not one of us attempted to leave the earth except to get a drink of water, and we lay huddled together, looking out of the corners of our eyes at our poor mother, as miserable and forlorn a litter of foxes as could anywhere be found. in the depth of the night, however, the pangs of hunger compelling us, we left the vixen, who seemed to be asleep, and crept out. being bigger than my sisters, i felt called upon to take the lead, and neither of them showed any inclination to dispute it with me. but where to take them, or how to get a supper, i had not an idea. i am not going to cast one word of blame on my mother for delaying to teach us to shift for ourselves. it was out of affection that she kept us so long to the nursery; and how could she possibly have foreseen the calamity that had so unexpectedly disabled her and thrown us on our own resources? and, lest a suspicion of neglect towards us should attach to her memory, i must here say what i have not yet mentioned--that by the death of the dog-fox, my father, the burden of our upbringing from the day of our birth fell wholly on my little mother. what labor and sacrifice this must have meant! after we were weaned, how often have i seen her go without her share of the prey that we greedy cubs might suffer no sint! when has cliff or moor witnessed greater devotion, greater unselfishness? and now she lay in the earth so sorely wounded as to be indifferent to our helpless plight. i will not dwell on my feelings, but they made it difficult to focus my thoughts on the undertaking before me. for a minute or two i sat on my haunches near the big boulder, considering gravely where i should go, my sisters the while cruising restlessly up and down the turf with all the impatience of irresponsibility, awaiting development. this to-and-fro movement of theirs added to my bewilderment, and even the bats flitting about were a trifle disconcerting to a cub with three routes to choose from, each in its turn more inviting than the others. there was the patch leading to the upper cliff; there was, i assumed, a way down the undercliff; and there was, i knew, a track between the two which the badger had worn. i have never been up the cliff, and after the vixen's recent experience dared not go, though it was night, and nothing stirred but the reeds about our drinking-place and the leaves of the gnarled tree where the magpies built. in the end i decided, if i could find a way, to go down the cliff. there was a sandy cove below that i had often longed to reach in my mother's absence, but my strength was unequal to the descent. i determined to try to go there now. so, leading the others past the little basin where we quenched our thirst, i brought them along the cliff to a place where the sheer precipice changed into a succession of ledges, down which we leaped until brought to a standstill above a wall of nearly perpendicular rock. it was impossible to reach the flat shelf below by leaping: we should have broken our bones; and there we stood staring over the brink at the smooth rock beneath us, and wondering how we could pass it. again my sisters looked to me to take the lead, so, putting forth all the power of my untried claws, i began, brush first, to crawl down a fissure that lay aslant the precipitous face of the great slab. this i followed, partly by feeling with my hind claws where foothold permitted a firm grip, partly by turning my face and seeing where the easiest line of descent lay. at last i succeeded in reaching the bottom without mishap. my sisters imitated me, coming down more easily than i had done, probably on account of their greater skill and lesser weight. a creek, too wide to jump, now separated us from the sand, but, taking to the water, we waded until we lost bottom, and then, for the first time in our lives, by swimming crossed deep water. more bedraggled creatures than we looked on landing it would be difficult to imagine; but we shook ourselves from muzzle to tag, making the spray fly from our wet coats, and set about searching for something to eat. where the beach met the cliff was a cave that ran a long way in and had two lesser caves opening out of it. we explored these without finding in either of them anything except dry seaweed and pieces of cork, so we retraced our steps and made for the other side of the cove. there, just beyond the ribs of a wreck that projected from the sand, we came on a big jelly-fish. though we should have turned up our noses at such food in ordinary times, it was a windfall in our famished condition, and we swallowed the quivering mass with gusto, sand and all. good food or bad, it filled our stomachs and stopped the gnawing pangs of hunger. we then clambered to the top of some rocks that stood out above the sand, and found there a small pool of water, temptingly clear. being thirsty after our meal, we began to lap it. ugh! it was nasty to the taste, but, what was worse, the mistake was a blow to my conceit, for i was humiliated by the reproachful glances my sisters shot at me. to avoid them i raised my eyes, and, as i did so, caught sight of the vixen on the cliff at the spot where we had taken to the ledges. then it came home to me that i had done wrong to leave the earth without her, and, fearing she would be angry, i hid myself amongst the rocks, as did my sisters. the vixen, usually quick as lightning in her movements, came but very slowly down the cliff on the line we had taken, and as slowly crossed the sand to the cave. this she entered, and for a time was lost to view. my inclination nearly led me to quit my hiding-place and go after her; but again fear checked me, and i remained where i was. on leaving the cave, she with difficulty followed our trail to the spot where we had eaten the jelly-fish, and, not seeing us, seemed to lose heart, for she sank to the ground and called us with a most piteous cry, which at once drew us to her side. i can see even now the delight on her poor face as we bounded towards her across the sand that separated us. after licking us with her swollen tongue, she led us up the cliff by a much easier path than the one we had followed in descending, and we soon reached the level of our earth. we proceeded towards it in single file by the narrowest of paths, passing our usual drinking-place, where for a reason i am going to explain, the supply was so scanty that we found barely enough water to quench our thirst. the vixen was curled up at the mouth of the den when we reached it, and we had to climb over her back to get to our sleeping-places. a short period free from troubles followed, during which my mother rapidly recovered. nevertheless, the wounds on her face were barely healed when there befell one of the greatest calamities of my eventful life--a calamity that was near putting an end to us all. before attempting to describe it, i must mention the sufferings we endured in the days following our adventure down the cliff, through the gradual drying up of the water that supplied our drinking-place. night after night, when we repaired to the basin that the falling water had hollowed in the rock, i had noticed that the stream, which came from some hidden source beneath a pile of boulders, got smaller and smaller, and, after the very hot weather set in, dwindled to a mere trickle. to such a thin thread did it shrink that from the mouth of the earth, which was not many yards away, we could no longer hear it splashing into the basin. now and then, especially when some animal, generally the badger, had been there before us, we were driven to such an extremity as to be compelled to lick the dew off the turf to cool our tongues until the water had collected again. it was a terrible time. to this day we speak of the year of my birth as the dry year, and indeed i, who was a may fox, was nearly three moons old before i saw rain, which fell on the afternoon of the day when the curlews' whistling scared us. i remember, though not as vividly as the rainbow seen that day, the embrowned turf of our playground being dotted with slugs which the downpour had enticed out of the sunless crevices of the rocks. the rain had ceased before nightfall, and the following day the sky, which had been black and lowering, became as cloudless as before, whilst the heat, previously intense, became well-nigh unbearable. hour after hour we lay in the deep shade of the bracken fronds at the entrance, panting for breath and longing for the water we were not allowed to get before dusk. at the first sign of twilight, and even whilst the after-glow suffused the sky, we rushed to the drinking-place, our three masks completely filling the basin, which we soon lapped dry. almost as refreshing as the water we swallowed was the cool spray--despite the rain it was no more--that fell on our heads from the lip of the rock above. for several days from dawn to dusk we thus endured the agony of parching thirst, till at last, when our tongues lolled out, and one of my sisters showed signs of utter exhaustion, the vixen so far yielded to our entreaties as to permit us to slink out, one by one, to drink. unfortunately we could not reach the reeds about the water without exposing ourselves to the eyes of the magpies overhead. on spying us they set up such a clamor that every bird and beast for a great distance along the cliffs must have known that a fox was moving, and rejoiced at our misfortune. [illustration: "these black and white pests."] we have many enemies, but none whom we despise so much as magpies, crows, and jays. their treatment of us is as unprovoked as it is insulting. we have never injured them, and yet, as i shall tell later, the pariahs of the wild, that gorge on our unburied kills, seek every opportunity of betraying us. those cliff magpies, at whose tongues we suffered such indignities, must have spent their days in watching our movements. after my sisters had had their drink, it took hours for the basin to refill, yet as soon as my muzzle projected beyond the bracken when i went to take my turn, the hateful wretches would cry out, "there he is!" i never grew indifferent to this daily annoyance, and in a rage i used to lap up what water there was in choking haste, so as to escape the mobbing of these black and white pests who flew just beyond my reach, and at times even brushed with their wings the tops of the tall reeds about the basin. we were not the only sufferers from the drought. indeed everything suffered, and most of all perhaps the herbage. the thrift and white campion that covered the ledges, the ferns that found root-hold in the crannies and crevices of the rocks, and the stone-crop and lichens growing on the rocks themselves, drooped and withered; and at last the boggy ground above the drinking-place caked and dried, so that the reeds turned yellow, and rattled rather than swished when the night wind stirred them. under the scorching sun the thread of water shrank and shrank until it dripped drop by drop, and finally dried up altogether. at my last visit to the drinking-place the smooth basin was hot with the fierce rays, and the moss about the edge of the rock above was nearly as moistureless as the crinkled lichen on the pinnacles. in these conditions it was impossible to remain where we were, and that night my mother reluctantly decided to abandon our home and to lead us up the cliff. would that she had taken us the moment the stars showed, instead of waiting until deep night; for the delay nearly proved fatal to us all. a fox's life is so short that he cannot forget even the groundless scares his fears make him the victim of, so it is not to be wondered at that the events of the night i am about to describe are almost as vivid to me still as at the time they happened. my sisters had returned once more from the dried-up basin to which they had been some five or six times since sunset, and joined me where i lay near the mouth of the earth, waiting for the dew to fall and listening for the footsteps of the vixen who had gone to get ready the new lair. it was a beautiful night--the sea calm, and the surf about the reef alight with phosphorescence, whilst the furze-bushes and the clump of brambles near the reeds were dotted with glow-worms. there was even a solitary one on the drooping bracken above the entrance. a wind of summer strength stirred the withered herbage and murmured around the precipitous crags above our heads, but, save the boom from the great cave below when the tide rose, all was still. suddenly, without warning of any kind, there came a flash of light from the cliffs above the sandy cove where we had eaten the jelly-fish. it died away and then returned, more brightly than before. it was not nearly so fierce as the lines of fire i had seen zigzagging the black sky on the afternoon of the heavy rain, nor was there any thunder with it as then, but there was a strange, crackling noise, as of animals crunching bones. immediately flames leapt in great tongues from the brambly thicket beyond the reeds. these drove us to the den; and there we crouched listening to the awful sound, which grew louder and louder. soon a faint glare lit up a part of the earth as far in as the spot where two rocks narrowed the tunnel. before this i was on the point of bolting; but now fear seized my limbs and i could not rise, could only crouch closer and closer to the earth like my sisters. whilst we lay there huddled together and crying out for the vixen she returned, darkening the tunnel as she came towards us. scarcely had she joined us when an evil-smelling fog rolled in, causing us to keep our muzzles close to the ground. then the fire swept past the earth, lighting it up to the end where we lay. panic-stricken though i was, i remember noticing how the smooth floor gleamed, and how curiously the light glowed on the vixen's fur. suddenly the heat became less intense, and a current of fresh air entering the earth revived us as we lay panting at the point of suffocation. the crackling and roar of the flames had long died away before we dared to quit our sanctuary, and when at last we ventured to the mouth of the earth, what a sight met our gaze! our playground was charred, except for a narrow strip near its edge, and towards this a thin line of fire moved slowly, blotting out the criss-cross tracks we had worn between the boulders. a ring of sparks encircled the raven's perch, and crept higher and higher, consuming the lichen, and leaving bare rock in its train; where the brambles had stood was a heap of glowing ash; grasses and reeds had disappeared; in short, the place which had been our little world and of which we knew every blade and spray, was as nearly past recognition as a corn-field after harvest. away towards the west great ruddy flames leapt from the furze brake and lit up sky and sea and headland with such a lurid light as i had never seen; whilst on the near slopes a hundred smaller fires flickered and died, to blaze again and re-illuminate the great piles of bared rock. sparks falling from above showed that the ivy round the home of the magpies had not escaped; and as the birds had mobbed me most unmercifully that very day, i rejoiced in their misfortune. the vixen, satisfied at last that she might venture forth, took up my puny sister, who was then unable to stand, and set out for the steep path by which she usually reached the top of the cliff. my other sister and i trod closely on her heels as she picked her way over the heated ground and skirted the glowing remains of the furze-bushes. in the ascent my pads were rather badly burnt and my fore-legs singed by a fire which suddenly broke out in some smouldering heather into which they sank. the glimpse i got of the face of the precipice showed that the ivy had lost all its leaves, the bared stems standing out plainly against the black fissures that seamed the great wall of rock besprinkled with sparks which in their fall resembled shooting stars. when we reached the summit we could hear the magpies calling out, but, to do them justice, they were not mobbing us then. once beyond the blackened ground we ranged up one on each side of the vixen, and after crossing fields of stubble and turnips and getting far beyond the reek of the burning, we caught the scene of the brook for which she was making. we struck it where it wound through marshy ground on the outskirts of a furze brake, and in a trice were up to our bellies in the delicious cool stream with our tongues hard at work. the water was cold and sweet; there was plenty of it, and we lapped and lapped as long as we could take in a drop. in all my life i never again enjoyed a drink like that, and the mud that stuck to my legs seemed to soothe the pain of the burns. my little sister was able to follow us now without assistance, but the vixen, who was exhausted with carrying her so far, went at a walking pace between the stems of the furze and kept looking back to see that she was keeping up with us, though she took no notice whatever of my other sister who was going on three legs, or of myself whose poor feet were so tender that i hardly dared touch the ground. emerging from the furze we came upon a circle of turf, where we caught sight of at least a dozen rabbits scurrying to the holes that honey-combed the ground at the foot of a high cairn. one of these had been enlarged, as the heap of fresh earth showed, and into it the vixen led us to a dry and sweet-smelling den, where she left us, to procure food. in there it seemed as still as death to us who had had the roar of the sea in our ears all our lives, but the lair was very comfortable, and roomy enough for us to stand side by side whilst the vixen distributed the rabbit she presently brought us. we found, too, on curling ourselves up, that, big as we were, we could lie close together without trespassing on the tunnel as we had latterly done in the cliff earth. so, as we were thoroughly weary, we soon forgot the dangers we had passed and fell asleep, our mother lying between us and the opening, as was her invariable custom. i was startled out of my sleep by a stamping overhead, caused by the rabbits in the heart of whose burrow we were lying. the noise, which broke out again and again just as i was on the point of dropping off, irritated me so much that at last i got on my hind-legs, thrust my muzzle into the hole in the roof, and breathed loudly through my nostrils. this snorting was not without result, for after the stampede that followed there was quiet for a long time. nevertheless the tiresome creatures had spoilt my day's rest and, try as i might, i could not doze off again. my sisters slept through it all, and the vixen showed no sign of being disturbed, except that she half opened her eyes when the rabbits scampered over the spot where she lay. it was very early, as i could tell by the scent of the furze that stole along the tunnel and almost overpowered the flavor of rabbit, from which the den was never quite free. to pass the weary hours i licked the mud off my legs, which still smarted, and, whilst i did so, thought of our narrow escape, and wondered in a vague way whether fires were to be numbered amongst the regular troubles of a fox's life. at length the vixen roused herself, and when the coolness and smell of the air warned her that the sun had set, she rose and led us forth, not for our usual gambols, but, as it proved, for our first lesson in hunting. i suspected something unusual was afoot the moment she ordered us to follow her across the stream, whither she had taken us to drink; and the further we got from the earth, the more excited i grew at the prospect of the adventures before us. it was most exhilarating to be wandering over the broad, high country, which, in comparison with our ledge at the foot of the precipice, seemed like the roof of the world. for nights and nights past i had yearned to accompany my mother on her rounds, and the unexpected gratification of my intense longing thrilled every fibre of my being. so great was my excitement that i quite forgot not only a loose milk tooth that had been worrying me, but even the tenderness of my poor pads, on which i had with difficulty limped to the drinking-place. the vixen ran steadily some dozen paces in front, and side by side we cubs followed in her train, noiselessly as shadows. it fascinated me to watch her lissom movements as she stole along, and to note the ripples that ruffled her smooth coat when she crossed the broken ground. we had passed over one hill and were breasting the next beyond before i began to wonder what we were going to see and how soon, and then, without warning, she reared on her hind-legs, listened with ears erect, and pounced on something in a patch of rushes, in which she buried her long muzzle. the next instant she came trotting back to my little sister, and gave her the mouse she held between her lips. her quick hearing had detected its movements in the undergrowth. but mousing was apparently not the chief business of the night, for, without dwelling, she stepped across the dried-up runnel which the rushes fringed, and headed for the craggy ridge above. in her progress up the steep slope she kept scanning the ground to right and left of the trail as if she expected at any moment to see the prey she was in search of, and when near the crest, she crouched and crawled forward with the utmost caution. with breathless excitement we wormed our bodies along in her wake, as though we had been trained to it. but we had not; we were imitating her instinctively, and kept our distance as faithfully as the shadow of her brush that darkened the moonlit ground in front of us. on reaching the ridge i could not help shifting my gaze to glance at the wide marshland below us, so strikingly unlike any scene my young eyes had looked on. here and there on the level expanse sheets of water and a winding stream shone like silver, and from the great reed-beds about them came a soft voice like the murmur of waves on a distant beach. this was the expression of a stolen instant, and no sooner were my eyes back on the vixen than she sank to the ground as though she had suddenly lost the use of her legs. we did the same. this pleased her, as i could tell by the expression of satisfaction in the eager face which she turned slowly towards us and as slowly withdrew, brushing aside as she did so the dry bents that rose a good way up her long ears. at first i wondered what she had found, as the only living things visible to me were some rabbits far below on the lip of a funnel-shaped warren. but presently over her head i saw the tips of the ears of a rabbit quite close to us, and my heart began to thump as it had perhaps never done before. the sight of the living prey had awoke in me the dormant spirit of the hunter that has hardly slumbered since; and not in me only--my sisters were evidently as excited as i was, for their brushes were lashing mine as wildly as mine did theirs. the rabbit meanwhile winded danger and, as its nostrils showed, kept sniffing the air to try and locate it. when it succeeded, its eyes fell, not on a stealthy enemy thirsting for its blood but--so sudden was the vixen's change of attitude and demeanor--on a harmless, playful fox rolling on her back as i had seen her roll in utter guilelessness a hundred times. the rabbit started, as well it might, and i expected to see it dive into its hole; but, marvellous to relate, instead of seeking safety it regained its composure and resumed its nibbling on an almost bare patch, towards which the assumed frolics of the vixen and the slant of the ground were leading her. then, with one of the lightning-like rushes which made her look a blurred mass even to our quick eyes, she was on it, and when she faced us the rabbit's head and hind-quarters hung limp as she held it across her mouth. on witnessing the kill we cubs jumped to our feet, eager to partake of the first course of our supper. but when we attempted to take it from her mouth, to our amazement the vixen snarled at us as she had never done before. my little sister, to whom she had always been so tender, was the last to try, and, incredible as it may seem, the vixen turned on her like a fury. nothing but my desire to record faithfully the impressions of that time would make one own that i considered my mother unnatural and cruel in denying food to the weakling among her cubs. if the water which had cooled our parched throats the night before scalded us we should not have been so taken aback as by this sudden change of conduct on her part. it was simply incomprehensible. had something outside our knowledge caused her to turn against us? if not, what did she mean by her harshness? it did occur to me that this unaccountable behavior might be feigned, and that presently she would drop the rabbit at our feet and be again the affectionate mother she had always been. indeed, i watched her out of the corners of my eyes from the spot to which i had retired, expecting to see her snarl relax into a grin. but in this i was disappointed, for, on reaching a ledge below, to which we followed her at a respectful distance, she devoured every bit of the luscious morsel before our eyes, though she knew well enough that we were ravenously hungry. the delicious smell of the hot entrails which the wind brought us put the keenest edge on my appetite--already sharp set by the previous night's shortness--and with the strong craving to satisfy it came the novel thought of satisfying it with a rabbit of my own catching. the bunnies were still playing about on the edge of the warren, and whilst the vixen kept shifting her gaze from them to me, licking her blood-stained lips, the lesson she wished to teach suddenly flashed upon me, and the explanation of her conduct was complete. she was saying as plainly as could be: "there is your prey. i have shown you how to catch it. go and get your own supper." i required no further prompting. then and there i began my first stalk under the eyes of all i loved in the world. summoning my untried powers, i wormed myself over the ground towards a single bush that screened me from the observation of most of the rabbits. its shelter gained, i looked back and up to where three pairs of green eyes regarded my every movement, and then peeped with the utmost caution round the corner of the furze towards my prey. the bunnies were all there and thoroughly alert, and so disconcerting did i find their united gaze that i drew my head back to consider the situation. when i peeped again half their number showed their white scuts and went to ground, and the other half seemed prepared to follow their example. satisfied that direct approach was out of the question, i walked aslant the slope towards a piece of flat ground on a level with the warren, as though i were engaged on some engrossing pursuit in that direction. as i went i did not even squint at the rabbits, though it cost me an effort to look straight before my muzzle. my simulated detachment from my prey must, i felt sure, have excited the admiration of my dear mother, and so must the thoroughness with which i gave myself over to the antics that took me at first farther and farther away and then nearer and nearer to the few remaining rabbits, whose curiosity had got the better of their fears. the silly creatures were quite taken in by the capers i cut, and one at least realized his danger too late, for ere he could reach his hole i snapped him up and bore him up the hill towards the vixen. insignificant as the incident appears to me now, it was one of the greatest events of my life. every fox is proud of his first skill, and i was no little elated by mine. indeed, i felt i must make some sort of demonstration in honor of the occasion. imagine me, then, a handsome young dog-fox, head erect, ears pricked, brush on end and well fluffed out, trotting along on the very tips of my toes with my first rabbit between my jaws, and you have a picture of me as i swaggered over the bare turf in the moonlight, before the eyes of my admiring mother and jealous sisters. i shall never forget the pride i felt nor the inner voice that kept whispering, "you are able to get your own living now, my boy, but don't be too highly elated!" i got on rapidly after this my first experience. how could i do otherwise, with such a clever and painstaking little mother as i had to instruct me in the wiles and ways of our craft? in a short time i became expert not only in catching young rabbits, rats, moles, and mice, but in picking up the feathered prey that frequented fen and hillside. of course i met with many disappointments; pheasants, partridges and wild-duck often escaped my clutches when i already considered them mine. my failures were due chiefly to inexperience, but in a measure also to the intrusion of other foragers, who turned up at critical moments and ended for me the work of hours. on one occasion a hunted hare passed between me and a covey of partridges i was drawing up to; but the birds, who squatted in a circle with their heads outwards, as their custom is, did not rise until a pack of stoats came along on his line, and with their noisy yelpings broke the silence of the roosting-place. on another, the sudden appearance of a poaching cat defrauded me of a pheasant on the edge of the pine-wood; but that night i killed before the darkness faded, and had buried what i could not eat before the vixen raised the "dawn" cry. after good hunting we used to romp home together over the furze-dotted land or across the fen, and from sheer high spirits vixen and cubs alike used to bound over the bushes or clumps of rushes and sags across our path. week after week nothing happened to disturb our peace or excite our fears, but, for all our apparent security, we were never abroad at sunrise unless a thick fog lay over the land. in those expeditions i used latterly to separate myself from the vixen on reaching the hunting-ground and seek my prey alone, rejoining her when she sounded the call to leave the trail or ambuscade. in this way i became more and more independent, and at times would turn a deaf ear to her summons. twice i was so belated that the pools by the way reflected the rosy fore-glow of the dreaded sun as i scurried past them. i may have spent a month in the vixen's company before i could make up my mind to shake off her authority and forage where i pleased. she was conscious that i chafed at the restraint which she considered necessary, and was no doubt prepared for the serious step i had resolved on. nevertheless, when the night came, it was not without a sense of shame at breaking away from one who had been so tender and forbearing that i sidled past her where she sat outside the earth playing with my sisters. i had rather expected she would exercise her authority and call me back. though she stopped her gambols and looked wistfully at me, she made no protest, and i passed on my way unchallenged; but i was glad when the bushes hid me from her sight and from the questioning eyes of my sisters, who seemed very much astounded at my going off alone. soon after crossing the stream i began to rehearse the plan i had surreptitiously formed in the earth. as it promised success, i decided to go through with it, though a darker night would have suited my purpose better. clouds indeed there were, but white and fleecy, only slightly veiling the light of the full moon, which shone very brightly as it crossed the deep blue spaces between. the self-confidence i felt in the earth had been oozing out of me as i threaded my lonely way through brake and reed-bed, but it returned when, after trotting across the quaking bog that trembled under my light steps like a jelly-fish, i came at last in sight of the pool where i intended to lie in wait for wild-fowl. although i had taken a short cut over the treacherous morass to forestall the duck, i feared that they might have settled in the water before i reached my ambush, and it was with eager eyes that i scanned the surface from a clump of rushes on a finger of land that jutted a little way into the pool. all was well! not a bird floated on the open water between the beds of lilies or in the lanes between the floating grasses. the only things that caught my eye were a moorhen and the trail of light she left behind her as she swam the gloomy water, which was shadowed by some alders. crossing the baked and cracked mud left exposed by the sunken pool, i entered the water, swam over to the islet, and secreted myself on the margin of a tiny creek just above a line of stranded feathers. there, screened from the keen eyes of flighting wild-fowl, i began my vigil with all the hope that waits on inexperience. crouching beneath my ambush, i heard a few distant cries, which came, i should think, from birds feeding on the edge of the tide. so faint were they as to be audible only when the fitful breeze lulled and the tall, feathery reeds about the pool ceased rustling. presently, from the water between two lily-beds a silvery fish jumped thrice in quick succession, as if pursued by some invisible foe; of the latter i saw no sign, unless its presence was indicated by a swirl in the water near where the fish fell. the long silence which followed was broken at last by a swish of wings--an inspiriting sound after the tedious wait--and some wild-fowl wheeled in a wide circle above my head before settling on one of the many pools that glistened on the wide marshland below them. as i lost the sound, i feared that the birds had dropped in elsewhere, but round they came again, and, with a splash that made me tingle with excitement, a mallard and three ducks alighted on the water midway between the islet and the reeds. they were evidently ill at ease, though they seemed to me so secure that i could not imagine what they could be so suspicious of--certainly not of the peregrine that harassed them at sunrise; and at the time i knew nothing of the monster pike that tenanted the pool, and took toll of feather as well as of fin. could it be that they had got some inkling of my presence? i crouched absolutely motionless whilst their restless eyes searched the tangle on the island, and when they stared at the patch where i was hiding i scarcely dared to breathe. before settling down to feed they cruised restlessly up and down, and even whilst they gobbled the green weed they kept looking so persistently my way that i began to think they could scent me, though they had only bills for noses. i had marked the mallard for my prey. he was a plump bird, and i had to keep my tongue from licking my lips at the prospect of the feast; for he was very tempting to an appetitie sated of rabbit, and by this time i knew every feather of the plumage that covered his juicy flesh. just then it vexed me to hear the vixen's call, far off though it was, as i feared she might hit my trail, follow it, and spoil my hunting. her yapping caused all four birds to raise their heads and listen, but they showed no further sign of alarm, as every creature of the wild knows that dead silence precedes the kill and that it need have no dread of a noisy fox. the ducks were near enough now for me to see the least movement of the mallard's eyes, the white of which, even when his head was down, showed that he was in deadly fear of something. "fool!" thought i, "eat your supper in peace; but when you land on the mud of the creek, where lie yesternight's imprints of your webbed feet, then look about you." [illustration: "his beady eyes gleamed."] and yet i was mistaken; at that instant an enemy was within a few yards of him. i had warning of its approach, for i saw the moonlight catch a heave of the water, just as from the cliff i had seen it catch the glassy surface of the curling wave; but in my inexperience i never dreamt that the glint could be caused by a rival for the bird. i was now to learn better, as with a great flapping of wings and a loud quack the mallard disappeared below the surface. i remember nothing about the three ducks for i nearly jumped out of my skin; and my stupefaction was complete when i saw a big animal appear at the surface and leave the water with the mallard in his mouth. the sight of this brute with my bird enraged me so much that at first i was on the point of springing across the creek and taking it from him. i would have done so had he been only half his size, but i was afraid of the strong, queer-looking creature. his body was very long, his legs short but massive, and his tail, which tapered to a point, stretched across the mud and just touched the water. he had no ears--at least, nothing worth the name; his eyes were small, his whiskers very long and white, and his jaws so heavy that they frightened me. how he enjoyed the mallard, the rascal! how his beady eyes gleamed until he saw me back out of my ambush; and then what an evil look rose to them! that was enough to scare me without the frightful grimace and hissing that accompanied it. i lost no time in getting out of sight of such a horror. i crossed the pool, dreading at every stroke that the fearsome beast would seize me from beneath, as he had seized the mallard, pull me under, and--disgusting thought!--perhaps eat me. i looked back on landing, and again when i reached the reeds; then, as i saw no trace of him and had dry land in front, i cursed him to my heart's content. i had been deprived of my supper in the last watch of the night, and it would take me all my time to reach the earth before dawn, even by way of the quaking bog. i gnashed my strong teeth as i hurried across the fen, swearing that i would be avenged on that thief if chance threw me in his way again; and though a fox may not be able to choose place and time, he generally gets his wrongs righted in the end. i own that for the moment the sight of the strong, fierce brute must have unnerved me; why else should the rustling of a vole on the bank of our own stream scare me so and cause me to run home in breathless haste? when i reached the earth the vixen and my sisters were lying near the entrance, looking as happy and contented as mother and whelps can look. with misfortune written on my crestfallen face, i stood before them bedraggled and panting, as complete a picture of misery as can well be imagined. my mother looked me up and down with sympathetic eyes that told her thoughts, and though she never said a word i read in their varying expressions: "you are miserable and discomfited, my cub; you are evidently paying dear for your freedom. nevertheless i admire your independence and, for all your wayward spirit, i am proud of you." crimson streaks marked the low sky to the east before i followed the others to the den for, rather than retire supperless, i stayed outside to crunch a few dry bones. it had been a most unsatisfactory night's hunting, and, though i tried hard to get the evil-looking brute with the webbed feet out of my mind, i seemed, even till i fell asleep, to be watching that rascally otter lying his full length and holding in his fore-paws the fattest mallard i had ever seen. despite my disappointment and fear, i resolved to visit the fen again a few nights later, and it vexed me greatly when the vixen objected and insisted that i should join her and my sisters in an expedition to the hill beyond it. i was sulky at the start, and lagged behind the others all the way across the marshland, but i closed up when we breasted the hill, and shook off the last traces of ill-temper on seeing the vixen steal towards an enclosed field some little distance down from the crest. i watched her closely whilst she reconnoitered at a gap in the rude stone wall, and, from the fixity of her gaze, felt almost sure that she espied game. all doubt was dispelled when, with the stealthiest of movements, she came back to me and, as if i was the most amiable cub in the world and worthy of the post of honor, led me round to the meuse through which the game had entered the field, and left me to watch it. as i lay there, within a spring of the scent-tainted run that recalled a trail i had once followed on the fen, i became uncontrollably curious to see the animal that had but shortly before passed along it. i felt sure the creature was in the field, and no sooner had the vixen disappeared round the corner of the long wall than i left my hiding-place, crawled up the face of the enclosure as quietly as a fly, and peeped through a break in the top whence a stone had fallen. ah! there he was, for all the world like an immense rabbit, nibbling the clover right out in the middle of the square field. of course i ought to have returned to my ambush at once, but curiosity held me to the spot, and whilst i was taking a last look, i caught sight of the vixen stealing over the wall on the further side into the tangle that filled the corner and, in fact, grew all round the field at the foot of the wall. in this she was lost to view, till presently her mask appeared again between some seeding thistles about thirty yards from the unsuspicious hare. now began one of the most thrilling stalks i ever witnessed, though, owing to the astonishing way the vixen hid herself, i could see little of her but her ears. to have rendered herself so inconspicuous she must have grovelled along on her belly in some slight hollow of the ground not visible to me; for the clover was not more than an inch high and of itself afforded very little concealment. the nearer she got the more excited i became; and for the life of me i could not understand--even now i cannot understand--why the hare, of all animals the timidest and most watchful, neither saw, heard, nor scented her. inch by inch the clever little stalker wound her way until nearer approach without discovery must have been impossible. i was wondering why she delayed making one of her lightning-like rushes, when, with a tremendous bound, the hare started off in a direction wide of my station. the vixen, who was in swift pursuit, made a desperate effort to turn him; but in this she would have failed, despite her wonderful fleetness, had not my little sister, whether by accident or design i do not know, suddenly showed herself at the gate for which the hare was heading. this had the effect of sending him towards the meuse i had been set to watch and of reminding me of my duty. the hare was yet some thirty yards down the hill but coming like the wind, when i dropped quietly into my ambush and gathered my legs under me. what a row he made as he dashed through the brambles and came through the hole at the foot of the wall! never shall i forget the excitement of the moment when, with his ears thrown back on his shoulders, he came in sight. i made my spring as he flashed by, and though i only knocked him over, i was on him and bore him down before he could recover himself. the vixen, who came up the next moment, was delighted to find me standing over my first hare; and when in response to her call my sisters joined us, she distributed the portions into which she had broken it up. there was much chattering over the feast--the contented chattering that attends good hunting. thus did our mother teach us to act in concert--the method sometimes employed by dog and vixen if hares are scarce and wild, but more commonly adopted when driving rabbits from a brake where there are no holes in which they can get to ground. our supper over, the vixen led us along the crest of the hill to a small clump of wind-clipt pines, which are still standing, whence can be obtained a view of the fen on the one side and of the sand-hills on the other. this was my first sight of the dunes and of the farm-buildings on the edge of them. whilst we stood there a loud bark, thrice repeated, came from within the trees about the buildings. "what is that?" i asked, somewhat alarmed. "that is the voice of a dog--the voice of an enemy." then she warned us never under any circumstances to go near the place, "for," said she, "danger lurks there, and perhaps death." wise little mother, if i had only heeded thy warning, what anguish and degradation i might have been spared! day was already dawning, and i wondered that she so long delayed returning to the earth. to jog her memory i kept glancing first at her and at the eastern sky, but to my surprise she took no notice. her face was very sad, and she seemed lost in thought. i believe she was thinking of the time, now close at hand, when we must separate from her and face the dangers of life alone. but it was not her intention to go back to the cairn, for on reaching the foot of the hill she turned aside and brought us to another earth, before which lay an enormous heap of yellowish soil. this, as it proved, was to be our new home; and from the fresh trail that led to it, i judged that at least one animal would share it with us. a little way inside the entrance, which was a large one, the tunnel divided; and when the vixen and my sisters disappeared in the branch leading to the left, i, curious to see our new neighbor, followed the trail along the other. on and on i stole through a low winding passage, which penetrated so far that i thought i should never reach the object of my search. at last i came on his lair at a spot where the tunnel suddenly widened, and the sight of it made me stand agape. instead of the bare ground, which is a fox's couch, and on which i expected to see the creature curled up, before me rose a great heap of dried grass that filled the chamber from side to side, and reached almost to the roof. so effectually did it conceal its occupant that not a hair of him could i see. the slight rustling of the bed would have told me he was there, even had my nostrils not given undeniable proof of his presence; and as my curiosity, now thoroughly aroused, would not let me retire before i had had at least a glimpse of the creature, i drew near with the utmost caution, craned my neck over the broad edge, and looked down on him. my eye! he was a monster. it surprised me to see how big he was; but what really took me aback was his very pale color, which showed even in the darkness of the den. i had expected to see a gray creature, like the badger on the cliffs, and not a white one nearly twice his size. my first impulse was to retreat, but on regaining my composure, i resolved to stay and have a good look at him. his broad side rose and fell with his slow, heavy breathing; his eye--i could see but one--was closed, and there was no sign of vigilance about the small limp ears. to all appearance he was in a deep sleep, which i believed, as well i might, that had done nothing to disturb. for if my approach had been as noiseless as the incoming of the fresh air that sweetens the close atmosphere of our dens, not less so was my examination of the formidable creature, though it was made with breathless wonderment. yet before i could bark in his ear and run away, as i was tempted to do, he sprang suddenly to his feet with a loud snarl, which nearly frightened me out of my skin. fortunately, he did not snap at me as i drew back, or pursue me as i bolted at full speed along the tunnel; indeed, judging from his subsequent conduct, i should say that his venerable face was one grin from ear to ear when he discovered it was a chit of a fox cub that had scared him. my mother, whom the loud snarl had brought in hot haste to my side, was very angry with me for trespassing on the badger's private quarters instead of following her into the part of the sett she had appropriated. no doubt it was a foolish thing to intrude on the privacy of so powerful an animal; but i had no occasion to regret my misconduct, for the badger, far from resenting it, became my best friend. every morning after that i used to peep at him; but instead of creeping in stealthily, as i had done at first, i walked in as if i were going to my own den, and to apprise him of my approach gave a stifled bark on reaching the turn by the rock, beyond which a short length of straight tunnel led to his lair. though i seldom neglected to warn him of my coming i believe it was unnecessary, as he got to know my light footstep so well that he did not take the trouble to raise his head on the rare occasions when i forgot to signal my approach. sleepy though he always was after his night's round, he never failed to wink at me with the eye that was uppermost. sometimes he would wink twice; but beyond that he never got. he must have been a good fellow, this distinguished member of the oldest family amongst animals, to put up with these dawn visits of a fox who was still under the partial tutelage of his mother. i have often wondered why he did so, but never been quite sure. if i may give my reason--and be it understood that it involves no slur on the badger's fame--i should say it was because of his friendless state. i say, "friendless," inasmuch as he was never seen in company with the only other badger in the countryside, the one that dwelt on the cliffs; and he kept quite aloof from the other creatures of the wild. i have always felt proud that he should have thought me worthy of the least consideration; but this did not make me blind to his faults. i don't refer to his living on beetles and wasp-grubs, nor do i mean the trick of sleeping with one paw in his mouth, or the queer way he had of running back-wards into the earth, at which little game i once surprised him; no, i am thinking of a bad habit from which we suffered much annoyance, and which i am very loth to mention, much less dwell on. but it must be stated, and at some length, on account of my story; it was this: he could not keep his claws from digging. what made his offence ten times worse in our ears was that as far as our vulpine wits could enlighten us--and we discussed the matter again and again--there was no necessity for his self-imposed labor. any reasonable creature would have thought the sett was more than complete, inasmuch as the part of the hill it tunnelled in all directions was like a vast honey-comb. it held quarters for a whole swarm of badgers; and yet the old fellow must needs keep burrowing farther and farther in, opening out more chambers and galleries, as if it were not commodious enough for his individual requirements. of course he was free to add to the accommodation of the sett, whether he really did feel cramped for room or only imagined that he did; nevertheless we foxes accounted it a grievance to have to put up with the din he made in digging, which, as it reverberated along the hollow ways, resembled the rumbling of thunder more than any other sound, and prevented us from getting a wink of sleep in the long, dragging hours during which it lasted. this was only the first stage of the annoyance. a more serious trouble was the way the great heap kept on increasing with the excavated soil that he fetched out by the barrow-load about once a week on the average, generally in the small hours of the morning when we were away foraging. the enormous mound made us hang our heads in shame every time we passed in and out. and as if this were not enough to betray us to our enemies, on our return home one morning we found his great bed lying atop of the pile, which now looked like a haycock in the midst of the brake. at the sight of this my mother lost her temper, and heaped such unrestrained abuse on the badger that i could not keep my jaws closed. it pains me to this day to remember that i dared reply to her; but how, when my old friend was attacked in such bitter terms, could i honorably keep silence? that day i had to be content with the draughty corner of the den, apart from my mother and sisters, who edged away from me as if i were mangy. i spent miserable hours lying there; but about noon the vixen walked over to me, licked my face with her hot tongue, and curled up by my side. these tender attentions soothed my injured feelings, and i soon fell into a peaceful sleep. i do not reproach the badger for changing his bed, i cannot reproach him for his cleanliness, and i have no wish to disparage his great industry; my object is to set down the truth, and i think that this corpulent creature had to make work to keep his fat down and, even in times of famine, to dig willy-nilly to prevent his claws growing into his flesh. of course, had the matter of digging by day, in which lay the sting of the underground annoyance, been brought to an issue, we foxes had not a shadow of right on our side; because we knew that the earth belonged to the badger by right of excavation, and that we were there on sufferance only as long as he found us tolerant and agreeable. we did well to endure what we could not cure, for, had it come to a quarrel, to a conflict with tooth and claw, the badger could have made mincemeat of our whole party without sustaining a scratch. so we prudently refrained from making any comment in his hearing, and, as he could read nothing from my looks, he had not the faintest suspicion of the grumbling to which i had to listen, or of the difficult part i had to play to keep on good terms with my family. so things went on until a common trouble befell both the badger and ourselves, and immediately following it, calamities so dire as almost to dwarf into nothingness the annoyances of which so much had been made. we had frequented the sett for perhaps a month, when, on returning early one morning from hunting on the moors, we found, to our astonishment, the entrances to the earth blocked and the badger shut out. thought i, "this misfortune to himself and to us is the result of his misdoings," and i fully expected to see the vixen pour out the vials of her wrath; but, to my surprise, all she did was to cruise up and down in a fever of anxiety, with a watchful eye on the desperate efforts the badger was making to remove the faggots jammed into the hole. failing to remove them by tugging, he began to bite through the thick, tough stems as though they were reeds; and in my inexperience i thought he would soon succeed in chopping a way in. but whoever had placed the faggots there had done his work too well for the entry to be hurriedly effected, so that gray dawn found the badger but little advanced with his stubborn task and us cubs roaming restlessly about, eyeing him at his work. the only time i got in his way he turned his nervous face and snarled at me as though i were a stranger. seeing what deadly earnest he was in, i gave him a wide berth, and sat on the top of the heap with my brush to him, blinking at the sky that was now all read as if the cliffs were a-fire far, far away beyond the fen. every now and again, when the vixen came my way, i caught her casting uneasy glances towards the east, and the instant the glaring rim of the sun showed, she stole away and we in her train, leaving my old friend biting and pounding in his apparently hopeless toil. if his efforts looked hopeless, the journey before us was certainly disagreeable. i shall not soon forget that crossing of the fen, which, as bad luck would have it, was as free from mist as the gilded crests of the tor that seemed to stare at us belated creatures of the night, abroad at such an uncanny hour. the vixen took advantage of every bit of cover within easy reach of the bee-line to the cairn earth, for which she was making; but for all that, there were many exposed places that could not be avoided, and there the cruel sun had us at his mercy, and blinded us with his naked rays. nor were we alone in our misfortune. half-way over, at a spot where the glittering pools lay thickest, we met a vixen and four cubs heading straight for our sett. she, too, was all anxiety; and seeing this, i began to wonder why the stopping of an earth should occasion such widespread consternation. my mother traversed the mossy spaces between the pools at the utmost speed of the weakly cub by her side, whilst my sister and i followed a little to one side, so as to avoid treading on the long, terrifying shadows they cast. on coming within sight of the earth she stopped suddenly in her stride, and as she did so my astonished eyes lighted on the object which had arrested her steps. it was the enemy--it was man. i recognized him at first sight, unlike though he was to the being i had vaguely imagined. there is no reason for surprise that i did. for what beast of the field or wild stands erect with such ease on his hind-feet, or has face, fore-paws and ears as bare of fur as is the skin of a mangy fox? moreover, i caught his scent; and it was the same scent as had tainted the stone on the cliff, that tainted the faggots--evidence hardly less convincing than the steady gaze of his eyes and the shout he raised. at the awful sound we turned tail and melted into the brake. round and round the great furze cover we stole, until i thought that the vixen would never come to a standstill; but at last she chose for sanctuary a tangled corner near a runnel, and there, amidst the russet bracken, my weary sisters curled themselves up and fell asleep. whether the vixen slept at all i cannot say, but i do not think she did, for she was wide awake when i dropped off, and she was all eyes and ears when i was startled out of my sleep by three noisy wood-pigeons overhead. as we looked at one another across the tiny stream, a strange sound reached me from the direction of the wood below the tor, or, it might be, from the tor itself. it was a high-pitched note, very penetrating, and a little like a cock's crow, though differing from it even more than a curlew's whistle does from an otter's. the instant i heard it i knew that it came from no bird's throat, but whence it came i could not tell. what a simpleton i was at that time! the toot of the horn is as familiar to me now as the clatter of shod horses. i know, too, now what it portends; but at that moment, though fear was mingled with my curiosity, i should not have been very uneasy, save for the obvious anxiety of my mother. not that she fussed about as if flurried, but i could see her alarm in her unusual alertness. when a cock-pheasant flew past and skimmed the brake that mantled the steep slope below us, her eyes followed it with an eagerness that seemed to demand from it the secret of its startled flight. again the horn sounded, this time from the neighborhood of the withered oak between us and the tor. then i heard a horse galloping and saw a flash of scarlet at the foot of the slope where the pheasant had dropped in. what did it all mean? were we foxes in any way concerned in the unwonted proceedings that were disturbing the great silence that had till then brooded over the cover? the suspense, the uncertainty, which the vixen's evident distress intensified, the vague sense of danger, were painful; but all doubts were soon dispelled, "eloo in! hi, forester! eloo in!" the rasping yell with which this was uttered betokened some sinister happening, though we looked in vain to the vixen, round whom my sisters gathered, to enlighten us as to its nature. at this point my recollection is blurred, save for two things, the crashing noise in the brake and the flight of the vixen and my sisters along the watercourse, with the pack in pursuit. i shall always hear the one and see the other. if ever i was terrified in my life it was then; and between the clamor of the hounds and the thundering tread of a hundred galloping horses i was so bewildered that i knew not where to turn. but as the noise died away my nerves steadied, and, rising from my crouching attitude, i peeped through the furze to try to discover what was happening. for a long time i could see nothing in the deserted valley below; but, continuing my watch, i perceived the vixen and my little sister coming along the open bank of the stream, with the leading hounds in close pursuit and apparently gaining at every stride. i am too old now to feel strongly as i did then, but still i am affected at the recollection of the vixen striving to save my sister by devices such as a partridge will employ to divert an enemy from its young. how the chase ended i could not see; but the sudden ceasing of the clamor made me fear the worst. in the silence that succeeded i made for the cairn earth, expecting to get in there; but that, too, was stopped. whilst i was debating what to do, i heard the huntsman's voice, and had scarcely regained my old station by the watercourse when the hounds opened on my line. they were coming towards me at a great pace. without an instant's delay i was off, and, stealing down the long slope, reached the edge of the cover, where i checked my steps to look out and see that the coast was clear. except the blazing sunlight, there was nothing in the bottom or on the bare slope beyond to scare me, and as the hounds were half-way down the hill, i committed myself to the open. i had not got far when there was a scream, a human scream, fit to wake the dead. it startled me horribly, but did not cause me to deviate a hair's-breadth from the direction in which i had set my head. near the brow i stopped and looked back at the crowd of dogs and horsemen. it puzzled me then, it puzzles me yet, to know why they should wish to kill me, but i had not a doubt that was their object. the clamor did not greatly terrify me at that stage of the chase, as i felt sure i should be able to elude my pursuers in the fen for which i was making. i held about the same lead across the next valley and up the hill beyond, but the heat of the sun was beginning to tell on me before i reached the wide belt of rushes near the mere. when i had crossed it the hounds had greatly reduced the distance between us; i was beginning to flag, and the sanctuary i sought was nearly two miles away. the going was heavy over the marshland, where never a breath stirred, but i struggled on as best i could towards the islet of my favorite pool, spreading terror amongst grebe and hern along the silent ways i threaded. at length i gained the pool, and as i left the finger of land jutting towards the islet and took to the water, i felt i was near an asylum at last. vain hope! when i was barely half-way across an accursed magpie espied me, and came and hovered just over my head, making a loud chattering noise that the hounds must have heard. i looked straight before my muzzle, pretending to take no notice of the plague, and as soon as i landed, lay down in my old ambush that half concealed me from the exasperating bird. "the pest will surely hold his tongue now that i am in lair," thought i. but no; he chattered louder than ever, as if it delighted him to betray me to the pack, whose whimpering i could now hear. in my exhausted condition i was very loth to move, but, seeing that to remain there was certain death, i left my hiding-place and plunged into the water on the further side of the islet. my tormentor came with me, and never shall i forget his harsh, jeering cries whilst i swam to the nearest alders, and even whilst i made my slow way through the sparse thorns that ran up to the furze about the earth. under the close brake i was free from the traitor, and it cheered me to be so near the sett and a safe refuge. as i followed the beaten track leading to it i was indifferent to my pursuers, for i felt sure that the badger must long ere this have opened a way in. alas! it had proved beyond his powers. the ground about the faggots was littered with the bits he had chopped off, but he had failed to effect an entry. realizing my desperate position, i almost gave myself up for lost. fortunately, in my extremity--and a fox's brain is never clearer than then--i wondered where the badger had bestowed himself. where he could get i could get, and if i could only trace him i might, despite the stiffness of my limbs and the nearness of the hounds, even yet escape with my life. picking up his trail, i followed it along the base of the hill to a thicket, dense and matted as bramble, blackthorn and furze could make it. through this i passed until i reached a small cave at the foot of a sheer wall of rock. the trail led inwards, and at the very back i came on my friend. he looked most vicious at first; but when he recognized the bedraggled cub before him, the expression of his venerable face quickly changed to one of compassion, and then again to hate as he heard the hounds, now running mute, crash through the undergrowth. it was an awful moment. it behoved me to find, and that instantly, some secure position out of reach of the infuriated pack. the leading hounds were at the mouth of the cave when, by a last effort, i gained a scanty ledge, almost too narrow for foothold, a little way above the badger's head. i was never in a more desperate position, but fear glued me to the spot; and better vantage-ground for viewing the fight that followed could not have been. "keep cool," i shouted to my old friend as well as i could for panting; and before i could repeat my warning, the hounds were on him. there are things which seem incredible unless witnessed; and i would not now submit the evidence of my own eyes did i not feel it my bounden duty to record the facts which redound to the fame of the badger and to the glory of the wild. but how is it possible to describe what happened so the picture presented may approach in vividness the savage scene i looked upon? i have seen the waves dash and dash again into a cavern, only to be as often rolled back till the tide had spent its force and left the cave as silent as at first. the inrush of the pack was like the on-coming of an irresistible wave; but the badger, with his back to the low arch, was not to be overwhelmed whilst he could keep his feet and ply jaw and claw. only three hounds could get at him at a time; and when it came to deadly fang work, what were these soft creatures of the kennel to the most formidable beast of the brake? as fast as the badger could deal with them, hound after hound withdrew howling, till there was scarcely one of the twenty couple composing the pack on whom his terrible jaws had not closed. while the fray was at its height the badger was at times partly hidden under his assailants, and thus arose no small danger to myself. one big brute of a hound there was who espied me where i stood, still as if carved in stone, save for my heaving flank and lolling tongue. this must have caught his eye, and time after time he leapt at me from the backs of the writhing mass below; but for want of steady foothold, he failed as often to reach me. the last time he fell he slipped between two hounds, and the badger had him at his mercy. it did my ears good to hear him howl; and no sooner did the badger let him go than he retreated over the backs of the hounds behind with a celerity which did credit even to his long legs. through the creeper that half curtained the mouth of the cave i saw him take up his station amongst the rearmost ranks of those hounds who were baying their loudest from the brambles. shortly after this, one of two mounted men, whose progress was arrested by the thicket, jumped from his horse and plunged into the tangle. only his hot face and bald head showed above the brake as he came slowly along, cracking his whip as best he could for the briers that reached to his neck and clung to his red sleeve. whilst he fought his way through, the other kept screaming at the top of his voice: "whip 'em off! the brute'll murder my best hounds!" the huntsmen had no difficulty in whipping off the crew of howlers outside; but it was no easy task to call off the staunch hounds that, despite the terrible punishment they were receiving, would have carried on the fight until they dropped from exhaustion. at last he succeeded, remounted his horse, and rode away with the other. in the silence that ensued my position appeared to me still most unenviable. would the badger, on whom i had brought all this trouble, avenge himself on me for the wrong i had done him? i tried to read his intentions, but he gave no sign. presently he looked up at me, and in fear and trembling i returned his gaze. a wild light blazed in his black eyes, but no trace of rage against myself. then i took courage, though obliged to look away from his blood-stained face, so horrible was the sight it presented. his must have been a noble nature to bear such punishment without resentment, and i am glad he never guessed my fears. how i wronged this chivalrous old aristocrat in thinking it possible he could use his giant strength to crush the life out of a helpless cub! the old fellow was as friendly as though nothing had happened when, at last, falling rather than leaping, i came down from my perch to try to find relief from the cramp that was knotting my muscles. his awful panting had by that time somewhat subsided; but i was truly sorry to see him in such a deplorable state, and i suppose i showed it in my face, for he said: "do not grieve on my account, little brother. i shall soon recover from my scratches." my legs were too stiff to let me lie down, so i stood by his side whilst he licked his wounds and smoothed his ruffled coat, and at nightfall, when he left, i staggered after him as best i could. after drinking at a spring on the way, we came to the earth, from the mouth of which, as i rejoiced to see, the faggots had been removed. there the badger left me and went up the hill toward the farm-land over which he wandered nearly every night in search of food. at what time he returned i do not know, as i did not awake till late the following afternoon, when i was aroused from my deep sleep by the noise he made on resuming his excavations. there are some things which i would gladly be silent about, but which are necessary to the completeness of my story. chief of these are the grievous losses on that day's cub hunting. my little sister and--sadder still--my dear mother were killed by the hounds. it was best they should die together, for the cub was so dependent on the vixen, and the vixen so inseparable from the cub, that i am sure they could not have lived happily apart. our common trouble drew my surviving sister and myself closer to each other, and for a few weeks we lived together in the earth, though we went our several ways at night, and very seldom hunted in concert. the close of this period is marked by an event of great moment to myself, which, though it does not redound to my credit, must be told in some detail. it is necessary first to state that for some reason the hounds gave up coming to our country, and that in their place a murderous gang of ruffians infested the district, and by traps, by poisoned carcasses, by terriers, by digging and by filling the earths with smoke, succeeded in destroying nearly every fox in the countryside. fortunately our earth proved impregnable to the spade and proof against smoke; whilst the badger made such havoc with the dogs that were sent against us that, after two determined but futile assaults, we were left in peace. for a time we had to exercise the utmost caution in avoiding the numerous traps, which were artfully concealed in the runs leading from the earth; but afterwards these were removed, and we might roam without molestation over our desolate wilds. hares had been all but exterminated, and rabbits and wild-fowl so shot down and thinned that it was hard to get a living, and at last my necessities tempted me to that most perilous of undertakings, a raid on the poultry of the neighboring farm. besides the everlasting crowing of the cocks, i had heard the noise made by the flocks of housed turkeys, geese, and ducks, as i returned at dawn from the empty warren on the dunes; and this had set me longing for them. i did not enter lightly on this my first foray, which i knew to be fraught with danger. my plans were laid with the fullest deliberation, and in the deep silence of my den i carefully thought out every step in my expedition. one of the strong points of a fox is attention to details. we go over and over every turn, we weigh every chance, and try to foresee every contingency. indecision and flurry are not in our nature; we know what we are going to do, and we go coolly through with it. our best-laid schemes may and do miscarry at times; nevertheless, with the overconfidence of cubhood, i really thought that the precautions i meant to take excluded all risks to my skin. why, i had mapped out in my brain every inch of the incursion; i had selected the best way of approach; i was prepared with the safest line of retreat; and, what is of no small moment, i had arranged for the disposal of the kill, which was likely to be a big one. eager as i was to realize my sanguine expectations, i twice postponed my visit, hoping for the cover of a storm that threatened; but on the third night, though the weather had cleared, i resolved to defer the raid no longer. the crescent moon was just above the hill when i stretched myself at the mouth of the earth and set out to put well-matured plans into execution. i walked up the rugged hillside with all the circumspection and gravity becoming a great undertaking, and stayed awhile on the crest to reconnoitre the scene of my operations. the farm-house, the outbuildings, the yards, were all silent. no foot stirred, no bark of dog broke the stillness which brooded over the rugged slope, the smooth fields, and the endless waste of sand beyond. satisfied that the coast was clear, i made my way down the hill by a path my pads had laid--for i was on my trail leading to the dunes--and, keeping to the shelter of a hedge of blackthorns, reached the wall under the elms. over it i crawled to the lower yard where the big pool is. its muddy edge was white with stranded feathers, and so was the track leading past the mowhay, where rats were rustling in the straw. but i left them behind, and with stealthy stride reached the scene of action. a cock, unsuspicious of my presence, crowed in the first house i came to, but the door was a new one, and a weasel could not have got under it; so i passed in disgust to the next shed, which contained the turkeys. but if the hen-house was effectually closed, the turkey-house was hermetically sealed, and i thought that the farmer must be a cruel brute not to give the poor birds better ventilation. "they would be but dry eating, even if i could get them," said i, as i crossed the deeply-rutted road to the big house where my nose told me the geese were shut up. this building boasted a tall chimney, which made it look quite lofty; but it was on a small hole in the bottom of the door, from which came the goodliest of smells, that i fixed my attention, and without a moment's delay i set about enlarging it. the wood round it was very rotten, but i could not make the opening as big as i wished, on account of a piece of iron which was fastened across the door on the inside, some five or six inches above the level of the ground. whilst i was at work the cackling inside was deafening; and when, by a furious effort, i squeezed my way in, i found myself in a veritable pandemonium. i really think that geese take their troubles more noisily than any birds in the world, except, perhaps, guinea-fowls; and i, who love quiet, would have left them severely alone if i could have got at the fowls or the turkeys. their clumsy wings, too, can make you see stars if they catch you fairly across the eyes, as theirs caught me more than once before my work was done. now it is one thing to slay in hot blood, another to tell at your ease what happened. i will merely say that the lust for slaughter was strong in me, and that in a short time all the flock but one lay dead on the stone floor. not an instant did i waste before setting about the next step in my projected night's work, the removal of the biggest bird to the dune i had chosen for my cache. i hoped to take all--it could be done--but i would make sure of the best. my grandest victim was the gander. i had pulled him out from under two geese, and was bearing him over the bodies of the flock towards the door, when, to my horror, i saw that the hole had been stopped from the outside. while the killing went on i had been deaf to everything, and i believe that a wagon might have passed through the yard without my noticing it. but now i became alive to every sound. i dropped the gander and listened. at first i could hear nothing but the thumping of my own heart, still affected by the speed of the kill; but presently the silence was broken by the sound of a man's footsteps on the stones at the back of the house. a few minutes later i heard the heavy tread on the roof, whereat i fell into a state of abject terror, which caused me to run round the walls like a rat in a trap. my enemy did not remain long, and when he came down he made for the farm-house, muttering as he went. now, thought i, is the moment to regain my freedom. escape by the door seemed out of the question; a small paneless window through which i could see a single star was hopelessly beyond my reach; but a third outlet, the chimney, remained, and by it i might find deliverance. here i met with an unexpected, but not insuperable, difficulty; for a foot or so up, the flue was choked with old nests. i closed my eyes whilst i pulled them down; but the suffocating dust, which there was no draught to carry away, compelled me to return every now and again to the floor to breathe. this inconvenience, however, was a mere trifle, and after drawing a few breaths i returned to my work. it cheered me to hear the debris falling, and to know that every stroke of my fore-paws brought me nearer to my liberty. imagine my dismay, then, on discovering, after all my toil, that a flat stone capped the chimney and prevented my escape. though it smelt abominably, i made frantic efforts to remove it. i pawed it, i bit it, i tried to raise it with the top of my poll, with my arched back, but place myself as i might, i could not find a position that enabled me to get good purchase owing to the width of the chimney. had it been half an inch narrower, i might have managed to dislodge the stone, heavy though it was, for i had felt it yield a little when i made my greatest effort. but there was no result from what force i could use, and seeing that i was only wasting time and strength, i scrambled down the flue to the heap of fallen rubbish, which gave way under me and spread out over the floor. the geese lay as i had left them. it was a big kill, and no mistake. the floor was white with birds, and in places they were two deep. as became a dog-fox i had done my work well, and the birds were all dead except one, which raised its head now and again in the far corner under the window. i had not the least inclination to touch it again, and though i must have been very hungry, i did not think of eating. i was in a trap; i knew it, so did my enemy, and i knew that he knew it. that he would return at daybreak i felt sure, and that he would kill me i had little doubt. at the very thought i grovelled with fear among the bodies of my victims, until the determination to live aroused me to fresh exertions. in my desperation i tried to bite away the nails that studded the sound wood about the hole by which i had entered; i tried to dig my way under the door, but i did not succeed in dislodging a single stone. oh for half an hour of my friend the badger! i made frantic, unavailing leaps at the open window; i cruised round and round the walls until i must have travelled miles; time after time i scrambled up the chimney, only in the end to resume my aimless rounds. at length, weary with my endeavors, continued through many hours, i lay down again, panting, amongst the geese. the stillness of that dead-house was profound. outside, too, all was still, save for the soughing of the wind in the leafless elms. this was the voice of an old friend, and it soothed me somewhat till it brought back to my mind the picture of the reeds bending over the rippled surface of my favorite pool. at the thought of my freedom in the fen i jumped to my feet and tried again and again, without success, each possible outlet, and then once more lay down with heaving side and lolling tongue to wait for the end. presently a cock crowed; and at last dawn peeped through the window, and found me a more pitiable object than the old goose who squinted at me every time she raised her blood-stained head. it would be day soon, but as yet the light was gray. it was the hour that had ofttimes surprised me in the midst of my hunting, and hurried me across the misty fen to my kennel in the brake; the hour when every carnivorous creature of the night steals by hidden ways to his retreat, and conceals himself from the cruel eye of day. as the light grew stronger i found myself rising involuntarily to my feet to return to the earth, but the strong walls compelled me to stay and await my fate. soon a pale, rosy light suffused the sky, and presently the first beam of sunshine came in at my window and fell on an old spider's web stretched over a hole in the wall of the chimney. i envied the owner of the web: i envied the dead geese: i would at that moment have been even the broken starling's egg lying there on the waste-heap, or the skeleton of a fly dangling at the end of the gossamer. i heard a door slammed and the noise of footsteps. they were deliberate, heavy, merciless, and they were approaching the door behind which i stood listening. just when i expected to see it slightly opened, and was on the point of shamming dead, there was a loud kick against it which upset my plan and made me rush up the chimney. then the door was unbarred and opened. "all dead, are 'ee?" "aye, all dead." after a pause the newcomer added: "you're as putty a lot ever i reared; in another month you'd have been ready for market, and i looked to 'ee to pay part of the rent." then in a voice like thunder he bawled out: "where art thee, master reynard? ah, thee scoundrel, thee needn't try to get out by the chimbley! thee'rt wastin' thy precious time. i'll help thy lordship through the front door in a minute. an'rew, bring the sack here." presently i heard two men below, and the door closed behind them. "he's up the chimbley and safe enuf. you hold the sack whilst i stir him up with this eer pole." two awful thumps i endured without flinching, but the third knocked my hind-legs from under me, and i fell all of a heap into the bag. "so far, so good. now we'll tie a stone to the sack and drop the lot into the deep corner of the goslin' pool. the varmint must die. i'll go and fetch a bit of rope." whilst the farmer was gone the man opened the mouth of the sack and looked down on me. not satisfied, apparently, with the half light of the outhouse, he took me into the open and peered at me again. i thought i recognized him the first time he inspected me; but now, with the morning sun on his ruddy cheeks i was quite sure. he was the first man i had seen, the man who was on the cairn the morning my mother was killed by the pack; he was the man who, i felt certain, had stopped the earths. i was calm now. i had gone through the agony of death, but still i did not want to die. life was sweet, very sweet. i was not like a mangy old fox; i was in the pride of my cub-hood. "what a beauty!" said the earth-stopper, as he continued to gaze at me. "what a grand fox, to be sure! if an'rew can save 'ee, then thee shan't die, now there." saying this he let go his hold on the sack and turned away. you can depend upon it i made a quick exit and sped off. i hope no serious harm came to andrew. i sought a new home, looking therefor on the great moors. for a time i had a life comparatively free from care, but though few of the changes in the autumn life of the wild escaped me, i was slow to interpret those signs that foretold the severe weather that was to suddenly set in. it is, however, hardly matter for wonder that i was blind to the warnings they conveyed, for the frosts of our peninsula are, as a rule, so slight as to relax their feeble grip by noon-day; even the smallest birds suffer little discomfort. indeed, i have sometimes thought that migratory birds flock to our shores because of the mildness of the climate and the hospitality its feeding grounds offer; but this is only the view of a fox, who welcomes these aliens, and takes heavy toll of their number. whatever the cause may be, there is no doubt about the fact. this year, however, the flocks of fieldfares, always the first to arrive, were earlier than was their wont. i noted, too, that despite the normal mildness of the weather, our few hibernating creatures suddenly withdrew into their winter quarters; the hedge-hogs to the drifts of leaves and hollow holes of dead trees, and the dormice to their nests in the low bushes. these incidents did not seem to concern me; though i was surprised at the abandonment of the fen by the otters, till presently i learnt that the late salmon had already passed up the river. that seemed to explain it; for the otters always follow the salmon, as every fox knows who has had the luck to find a half-eaten fish on the bank. i am convinced that all these creatures were conscious of approaching hard weather; and when i discovered that the squirrels with which the wood abounded, had sought their nests in the top-most branches of the red pines, a sense of the evil times before us came to me, too. i noticed while i lay from dawn to sunset amongst the undergrowth that a strange calm, presaging sudden change of weather, brooded over the solemn wood. the silence was unbroken until twilight, when the starlings settled in and mingled their vespers with the soughing of the rising wind. then when i left my lair, threaded the boles of the pines and came to the beeches, the leaves crackled under foot, a sign of cold, dry weather; but i did not feel the keen wind until i gained the shoulder of the ridge to the north, which is crowned by the tor. at midnight on the moors the cold became intense; when, near dawn, i crossed the upland road which since some heavy rains had been a quagmire, i found it hard as rock, and the backwater of the pool above the ford was frozen to the edge of the current. on the marshy ground below, the cracking of the ice under my tread disturbed several snipe; and between the alders and my own lair two woodcock got up, which, from their weary flight, i should say had only just arrived. my snug kennel under the furze looked doubly snug that cold, hard dawn; and whatever privations the future might have in store, there was at least every token of present abundance. "the long-bills are pretty plentiful," thought i, as i curled up on my dry couch. "hungry times are over; there will be food galore now." i slept through the day and sought the fen at nightfall, to find the pool and the mere, or rather those parts of them that remained unfrozen, crowded with wild-fowl. strangers though we were to one another, they proved very wary and difficult of approach, despite the curiosity my appearance aroused in them. so matters stood for some time, during which i cared to remain out only part of the night; but when my coat got thick enough to resist the piercing cold i hunted far and late, seldom reaching my kennel before the sun showed red above the sea. during the period of dry frost i fared well enough; but a snow-storm which occurred at the time of the new moon and lasted for two days and two nights, rendered foraging difficult, and made me feel a stranger in my own country. except in rudest outline, it was no longer like itself. the fen was a great white plain, broken by a big and a small pool and the winding stream that fed them. in place of the sombre array of pines under the tor, usually as marked a feature in our landscape as were the great reed-beds themselves, a vast slope of snow met the eye; and the tor might have been a fleecy cloud in the leaden sky. strangest of all was the aspect of the dunes, which looked like great waves of pure foam arrested in their roll. many a time i scanned this white undulating waste for the hare that frequented the sand-hills, hoping to mark him in a position where it would be possible to stalk him. i say, "possible" because of the great powdery drifts that rose like new dunes across my hidden trails and barred my progress in every direction. moreover, each fall of snow caused me fresh trouble; for it stultified the knowledge i had gained, and compelled me to find new ways to my hunting grounds. to add to my difficulties, soon only a few landmarks were left, and these hard to recognize--horseshoe of thatch about the short chimney was all there was to show the position of the cottage, and it was hard to believe that the snow-laden elms were the same trees whose golden leafage but a month before had cast so deep a shadow on the farmyard where the cock pheasant had been feeding with the fowls. on the edge of the ploughed field next the mowhay were the tracks made by the two wary rabbits whose home was under the big rick, and the few partridges which had escaped our jaws kept near the rubbing post in the middle of the field. but i recall that fallow best by the course i had across it after the little jack-hare, who led me such a round as i have seldom gone. i lost sight of him in the field beyond the orchard, where the turnips lay in heaps, but followed his line up and down the hill to the head of the fen, across which he went almost in the teeth of a raging blizzard. he had ringed the bulrushes in the heart of the bog before making one of his baffling sidelong leaps, and then set his face for the foot-hills under my lair. the scent was hot amongst the scattered furze-bushes through which he led me, and so heavily clogged were his feet with snow that i felt sure i should overtake him before he reached the tamarisks on the other side of the hill; but i underrated his endurance. i followed him to the waste of sand-hills, only to find that he had disappeared in a drift at the foot of the highest dune. in his desperation--for i was all but on him--he must have plunged into this and worked his way far in, as i could not find him, though i dug and dug into the smothering mass in every direction. nothing remained but to make my weary way home through the blinding, driving storm. there are more blanks than prizes in the life of even a clever fox. the scent lay wonderfully that night, and i followed it as easily as i had shortly before followed the scent of a bittern across the snow between the reed-bed and the bulrushes. it was in this isolated clump that the otters so often laid up before the frost hardened the trembling mass environing it; but now i noticed that some of these wily creatures had beaten a deep track across the narrow neck of the big bend of the river, though i did not once get a glimpse of them. i must pass over much detail of the varying fortunes of that eventful time to speak of the mis-adventures that befell me on an expedition when i unwittingly exposed myself to a great danger, and was lucky to escape with my life. i had risen from my kennel, stretched myself, sniffed the biting wind, listened, shaken my thick coat, and then, as was my wont since giving up my journeys to the hills, first visited the few remaining bits of boggy ground in sheltered places of the brake, with the hope of picking up one of the woodcock that resorted there to feed. i approached one spot after another against the wind and with the utmost stealth; but, despite my extreme caution, i succeeded only in flushing the birds, so wary had they become through being harassed--chiefly, i believe, by young cubs. after lapping some water below a cascade hung with icicles, i left the soft margin of the rapid runnel which had been riddled by the bills of the woodcock and, emerging from the furze, stole down to the thicket of blackthorns. but my nose told me a fox had been there already; so i at once made for my favorite pool, whence the cries of various wild-fowl reached my ears. i knew that they consisted of duck, widgeon, and teal; but from the noise they made, i judged them to be more numerous than usual, and so they proved. through a gap in the reeds i gazed once and again at the tantalizing sight. what more maddening spectacle for a hungry fox than that of game beyond reach? i ransacked my brain to discover a way to get at them. it was beyond my powers. the edge of the acre of water that remained open was a score of yards from the reeds and scarcely less from the island. there was only one course practicable, to disturb the birds and to take up a hidden position from which i should be within striking distance of the pool. the snowy surface which ringed them in denied concealment save at one point, and that was much too far from the water to suit my methods, for the scanty bit of cover was too long springs from the brink of the ice. any attempt to rush the birds from there seemed vain. many a time since the frost set in i had stood and weighed the chances it offered, only to scorn the idea of using it for an ambuscade. to-night, somehow--was it because of my ravenous hunger?--the clump of sags, though weighed down by the snow, did not look quite so hopeless as before the last fall; and i decided to accept its hard conditions and give it a trial. it was an exasperating thing to be obliged to scare the birds; but there was no help for it, and so forward i went. my forefoot was hardly through the fringe of reeds when a mallard saw me and gave the alarm. in an instant a hundred pairs of eyes were turned on me; and, as if fascinated by the sight of so fine a fox, their owners did not take wing until i was nearly half-way across the snow. then, with a loud "quar, quar, quar" from the ducks, all the birds rose in a confused company, the noise of their wing-beats drowning for a moment the loud rustling of the swaying reeds. i watched them divide into their several skeins, which then wheeled above my head and flew seawards, the widgeon in the van. before seeking my ambush, i crossed the ice to the other side of the pool, in the hope of finding a disabled bird in the thick cover, but saw nothing save a few dead starlings that had fallen from their roosting perches on the reeds. the flesh of starlings is nearly as loathsome to me as the flesh of carrion-feeding birds; so i left their stark bodies lying there, and trotted over the wide stretch of snow to the island. when crossing, i noticed a small hole in the ice. it had been made and kept open by otters that they might come there to breathe whilst fishing; but i did not know this at the time. the island, though it reeked with the smell of duck, was blank; so i made for the sags again, and crawled under them carefully in order not to disturb their white coating. gently as i pushed my pointed muzzle between the stems the frozen snow rattled down in a shower, and this caused me much misgiving, for i feared that the exposed blades, black with decay, would be sure to excite the suspicion of the quick-eyed fowl, and warn them off the water. when ensconced, i found that my ambush barely screened me, and, what was more serious, it seemed much farther from the pool than in the bloodthirsty moment when i had decided to use it. however, being in, i meant to stay, and so, the tip of my muzzle between two bent blades that grew a few inches in front of the clump, and nothing but the tag of my brush projecting at the rear, i began my vigil. it was bitter work watching with the gale in your teeth, but i might have noticed it less had the ambush been a little nearer the water. nevertheless, being of a sanguine temperament, i threw sense and sinew into my work as if success were assured. my ears were spread their widest, to catch any sound that reached them above the lapping of the water and the swish of the encompassing reeds; my eyes, if not fixed on the pool, scanned the snowy space between; and my legs were gathered under me ready to spring. one by one some feathers the ducks had left, drifted to the nearer side and were lost to sight; once i caught the faint wing-beats of passing wild-fowl and, raising my eyes, saw the long wedge of them black against the bright stars; but not a bird settled on the water. hour after hour passed in this manner, and my patience was just giving out when an incident occurred that dispelled all thought of trying my luck elsewhere. it was not the fish that jumped clear of the surface, which induced me to stay, but the great boil in the water near where it fell. i believed this had been caused by an otter, and quite expected to see the creature land on a small jagged point of ice hard by, where the snow had been much trampled. nor did mere curiosity keep me an interested spectator: i was expecting to get fish for supper after my wasteful friend had taken one or two bites of his prey. whilst i watched for his appearance, and watched in vain, a rather larger fish leapt out--once--twice; and the third time it was hardly above the surface when the open jaws of a huge pike showed close behind it, and i could see the bristling array of teeth before a tremendous swirl hid them again. in all my experiences i have only once witnessed anything that took me more by surprise; and from that night i have never swum across to the island without fear of being seized by the grim monster which i now knew tenanted the pool. the pike had scarcely disappeared before three teal, whose flight i had not heard, settled in the middle of the water and set my brush waving with excitement. totally unsuspicious of my presence they swam towards me, and approached so close to the ice as to be completely hidden by the bank of snow near its edge. judging their position as well as i could by the delicious scent that reached me, i made two tremendous leaps, which landed me amongst them before they could take wing. but on account of the spray and the shock of the icy-cold water i missed all three; though my jaws snapped close over the spot where one of them dived. he came up yards away from where i was awaiting him, rose as only a teal can rise, and flew off in company with his mates, who were wheeling about overhead. with a rankling sense of failure i scrambled with some difficulty on to the ice, shook my coat and, turning my back on my ambush, trotted off as briskly as i could in the direction of the mere. through the long wait on the snow and the coldness of the water into which i had plunged, my feet were so benumbed that i could scarcely feel them under me when crossing the bog. nevertheless, i stumbled on until warmth came back to them, and then hunted the waste beyond, working across the wind on the margin of the laid reed-beds in the hope of scenting moorhens or water-rail to break my long fast. most carefully did i try the patches of sedgy cover in the loops of the stream where i had seldom failed; but even there i met with disappointment, the few birds i winded evading me by diving under the ice which in places covered the strong current. i must have trotted miles along the zigzag course i took, before i reached the expanse of windswept snow under which lay the frozen mere. from inside the fringe of reeds i could hear the honking of the geese on the open water, and at times a sound that was new to me, a wild trumpeting which seemed to come from where the sea was thundering on the bar. for a fox naturally prompt in decision, i stood there long, considering whether to make a journey that offered but poor prospect of success. in the wild-fowl's feeding-ground i had come from there was at least makeshift for an ambush; on the level ice-field before me there was not cover enough to hide a mouse, and the chance of a kill was very, very small. choice of supper, however, lay between cold starling, bitter and dry, and hot goose, sweet and juicy--if i could get it--and goose or nothing was my resolve. i set my face for the spot where the scarcely discernible specks on the snow showed the game to be thickest; and if my coat turned white in winter like that of a stoat i had seen a few nights before, i might have stolen at least part of the way unobserved. as it was, my reddish-brown fur, though lighter than in the summer, made me as conspicuous as a crow on a stubble to the noisy sentinels overhead, which at once spread the cry of "fox afoot!" far and wide over the great mere. the only method possible, then, in this wild-goose chase, was to keep going with the most nonchalant air at my command, as if my sole object in approaching the pool was to wash down a heavy supper; and it was lucky for my plan that my thick coat hid my prominent ribs and concealed my half-starved condition. presently i could see that the wild-fowl lining the margin of the ice were nearly all geese; but what riveted my gaze was a small group of big white birds beyond, whose heads towered high above the mass of insignificant-looking duck that crowded the water. "halloo! something new in the feather line," thought i. "what monsters are these?" and then it occurred to me that, as i had never cast eyes on their kind before, it might be that these strangers had never set eyes on a fox, and would entertain no fear of such an innocent-looking creature come to quench his thirst. this line of reasoning seemed so plausible that i licked my dry chops at the prospect of a lordly feast, and for a moment felt inclined to despise such small birds as geese. these latter had for some time held their heads turned my way; so, to show that concealment was not dreamt of, i stood still, raised my mask to the moon, just risen above the headland, and, though it cost me a great effort, barked as joyously as only a full-fed fox can bark. rarely in my chequered life have i given utterance to notes so expressive of content; and as the geese seemed greatly taken by the music, i continued to indulge them, at the same time lessening the distance that separated us. we were getting on quite good terms with one another--at least, so i thought--until i was within--well, it is difficult to judge distance over snow--perhaps fifty yards of them. then i saw unmistakable signs of restlessness. to lull suspicion i waved my brush in my most fascinating manner; i rolled on my back, hoping to prove to them that, murderer though i might be by repute, i was really a playful creature, even on that wild winter's night; and in order to reassure the more timorous, including a fine gander, who had retired from the front to the rear rank, i began to cut capers, running after my brush in small circles, or rather in a spiral which would bring me, as i could see out of the corner of my eye, within rushing distance of two of the most curious of my admirers. it was all in vain; my back was to the cowardly crew when they rose; but even then i should have seized a laggard had i sprung a few hairs higher, for the tip of my muzzle actually touched his cold webbed foot. in my fall on the edge of the ice i all but lost my balance and toppled into the water. was i enraged when i recovered myself? i need not enlarge on that. the flight of the geese alarmed the duck, which rose in a big cloud from the mere, with a noise that would, i am sure, have bewildered any animal except a fox, or perhaps an otter. but i ignored it, and amidst their silly clamor and the loud whirr of their wings that momentarily drowned the gale, fixed my eyes on the three swans--for such they were--who did not take flight like the others, but swam up and down the rough water in a manner which, if not expressive of contempt, was at least aggressive and provocative. their attitude was a revelation to me; no bird had ever dared challenge me before; and if they see as foxes do, these black-billed strangers who stared so hard must have read blank amazement on my innocent face as i read defiance on theirs. nor was i free from irritation at the bravado conspicuous in their puffed-out breasts and beruffled plumage. suddenly my demeanor changed from amazement to rage. this certainly they must have known from my flaming eyes, bristling fur, and fluffed-out brush lashing from side to side; but up and down they swam, hissing out their summons to come and do battle, if i dared. a fox shrink from combat with feathered foes? never! i jumped into the water, and swam across the strong current for the spot they had chosen for the contest. all three preserved their determined front until i was close enough to see the yellow on their bills and the snake-like look in their evil eyes, but at my next stroke two of them beat the water with their great wings, rose in the air, and with loud-creaking pinions flew over my head. "cowards!" said i. "why did you not stand your ground?" whilst i wondered that the remaining bird did not follow their example, a streak of blood on his white plumage told me he was wounded; and the instant it caught my eye i felt he was mine. i never doubted i should kill him as soon as i could close my jaws on his long white neck; the only thing that troubled me was how i should manage to land him on the ice with such a strong stream running. he was the biggest of the three, a magnificent bird, and, except for his bill, as white as the snow. to my astonishment, wounded though he was, he actually swam to meet me and struck the first blow. before i could close with him he stretched his head over mine, caught me by the left ear, and pressed me under water. for all my frantic struggles, i was half drowned when i succeeded by a desperate effort in disengaging myself from his grip. rising close to him, i seized his neck through the thick coat of feathers that protected it, and hung on. the commotion that followed baffles description. with one wing--for the other lay helpless--he lashed the water and spun around in circles, taking me with him. it would have been better to let go than be carried by the strong current i knew not whither; but in such a case a fox can never resolve to relinquish his hold, and it was fortunate for me that, before i had been taken out into the middle of the mere, my teeth slipped off the smooth oily feathers. i had had enough. exhausted and benumbed, i made for the ice, now a long way off, and fighting the current with all my strength, had got at length within a few yards of the jagged edge when, to my horror, i heard the swan coming up, and gaining on me at every stroke. i did my very utmost to reach the ice, but in vain; he was on me before i could land. again i was immersed; twice i planted my feet on the edge, only to be pulled back. i had caught a tartar, and escape seemed impossible; even if he did not drown me, i feared i should be sucked under the ice. the thought of losing my life roused me to a supreme effort. with gnashing teeth i turned on my persecutor. my onset must have terrified him, for he quailed before it and retreated a few yards into the mere. with the help of my brush i whipped round, gained the rough edge, and, putting forth my last bit of strength, dragged myself on to the ice, and fell, utterly spent, just beyond his reach. for a time i lay there motionless, but by-and-by fear moved me to turn my head and look for my enemy. there he was, proudly swimming up and down before me with blood-stained breast and drooping wing, still defiant. it was the most humiliating moment of my life. presently i rose and shook myself, but to no purpose. my bedraggled coat had frozen, and hung stiffly on me. i exchanged looks of vengeance with my terrible foe and slunk away. what a weary journey it was over the snow! how i floundered through the deep drift that separated me from my cover, and how glad i was to reach the friendly shelter of the brake! it was good to be screened from the eyes of the countless wild-fowl who had watched the fight, and whose cries had sounded like jeers as i tottered across the wide ice-field. there is little bark left in a fox when the quacking of ducks disconcerts him and makes his brake a welcome refuge. i sat down under the furze, brushed the bloody feather from my muzzle and licked my paws, which had been cut by the sharp-edged ice in my mad struggles to get out of the water. though dawn was some two hours off, i had no heart for any more hunting; so i made for my lair, which i reached by way of the brambly thicket above the quarry, and, after shaking my coat again, crept to where my snug kennel lay under its double roof of gorse and snow. there, hidden from all eyes and from the bright lights of the frosty sky, i curled up in the cup of dry spines with my brush about my nose, and heedless of the gale that raged above but could not reach me, forgot my troubles in sleep. the hounds drew the tor wood once, and only once, after the thaw, and did not pay a single visit to our brake, though the earth was stopped three times before the end of the season. the explanation is probably to be found in the heavy rains which flooded the fen and made the country unfit for hunting; big pools were found where none were seen before, and the springs which broke out in many new places, together with the surface-drainage of rain and melted snow, not only kept them full, but seemed to turn every bit of spongy ground into a quagmire. left to myself, i was as happy as a fox can be, and, forgetting the hardships i had passed through, looked forward with pleasurable anticipation--as, indeed, every wilding does--to the golden days of summer, when troubles are few and delights many. yet the tamarisks had hardly begun to feather before there was brought into the countryside a hound which proved the most terrible enemy that ever shadowed my life. that the farmer had need of a more watchful guardian for the poultry yard than old shep i knew well enough from the serious losses he had sustained. besides fowls and ducks, even geese and turkeys had been carried off, some by day under cover of mist and drizzling rain, but mostly at night. i had seen foxes returning from that direction with birds in their mouths; i had actually come on the caches, both inside and outside our brake, where they had buried what they could not take away; and this wholesale plundering caused me great anxiety, because i knew it would lead to reprisals. but i never dreamt in my most troubled moments of the scourge that was being prepared. even had i known that old shep was to be superseded and another farm-dog put in his place the news would not have alarmed me in the least, because of the contempt i felt for the few specimens i had seen. but i was now to learn that there are farm-dogs and farm-dogs. as soon as the new dog was led home i came on evidence of his work. i found the body of a fox near the gap of a reclaimed field that had recently been filched from our cover, and could see by the fang-marks in his chest that he had been murdered. now it was impossible that old shep should be the culprit. he was always asleep at midnight, and bore a good character amongst us for utter harmlessness; yet everything pointed to his guilt. a double trail led from the warm carcass towards the farm buildings, and one was the trail of a dog. i walked slowly up the hill, trying to unravel the mystery, and had scarcely passed over the crest when a loud bay, very different from old shep's, broke the stillness of the night and explained everything. whilst i listened it was repeated again and again, and its meaning was unmistakable. it was a warning to the fox from the new guardian of the farmyard that the days of robbery without punishment were past, and that a new rã©gime had begun. i yapped no reply, for it was best to let this dangerous customer believe that the fox he had killed was a stranger to the district, and that none frequented the wild within reach of his voice. i was very miserable now. putting all together, i was convinced that the newcomer would prove a dangerous enemy; and yet i felt that i ought to see him, for i recollected my mother's story of the fox who, like the otter in the quaking bog, judged the jackass by his bray, and suffered agonies until he cast eyes on him. the opportunity offered a few days later without my seeking it. on a lovely spring morning such as nature often lavishes on her wildlings, i lay stretched out amongst the scattered furze-bushes enjoying the warmth of the sun, without a thought of any intrusion on the peaceful scene. the lambs were bleating in the field next the dunes, the rooks cawing in the leafing elms, and the farm-boy, whom i could not see for the thicket of blackthorns at the foot of the croft, was singing the drowsy song he sang always at his work. a magpie on the tallest of the blackthorns seemed unusually interested in either the boy or his work; but i thought nothing of that. presently, however, to my surprise, it began mobbing some creature. then i rose to my feet, almost expecting to view a fox, when, to my amazement, i saw a huge dog leave the thicket and come into the open. it was the new hound, and the sight of him made me catch my breath. what struck me most--for without it, size and strength of jaw signify nothing--was the speed i read in his long muscular limbs. he moved with an ease i had never seen in any other dog. had his hind-quarters sloped like mine, i should, like the magpie, have taken him for a denizen of the wild; but the defect betrayed him as the servant of man. my curiosity was excited, and i would not steal away to the near brake until i had discovered what his business was. it was of the simplest. he stopped about half-way up the hill at a spot full in the hot sun, turned round two or three times as i do to make my bed, and laid himself down amongst the tussocks of grass. i watched his bloodshot eyes blink in the blazing light; noted his restlessness, the twitching of his cropped ears, and the quivering of his great nostrils, even whilst he seemed to doze; studied his huge bull-terrier head, raised when a yellowhammer settled on the golden bush behind him; shuddered at the array of crowded teeth when he yawned. he may have lain an hour amid the bright new herbage before the boy whistled. his ears showed that he heard, but he took no further notice. when the whistle was repeated he growled. then the boy screamed, as i have heard the huntsman scream after me; and the great brindled brute leapt to his feet and bounded down the hill at a pace i had not thought any creature capable of. i knew then that no fox could get away from him in the open, or escape with his life when overtaken. "no more stealing of old gobblers," said i under my breath as i slunk away to the earth. for some days i scarcely slept on account of the worry; and the more i thought it over in the quiet of my kennel, the surer i felt that this great restless hound would render life unbearable by invading my cover. was it likely that a creature pricked by pride of limb and of fang would be content to wander within the narrow confines of a dozen fields criss-crossed with trails, and never trespass on the environing wilds to which the trails led? impossible! is there not an eternal feud between the tame and the wild canine? this half-wild protege of man, free to wander at will and wreak his vengeance on us hated dwellers in the brake, able too by speed and strength to carry out his fell designs, was certain, sooner or later, to follow the cursed scent that lingers where we tread, and track me to my hidden lair. the days went by, however, and i was not molested; though night after night, as i heard his threatening bay, i asked myself, how long shall i be left in peace? when a fortnight passed without a sign, i began to think that this sharer of man's hearth might, after all, be nothing more than a noisy farmyard braggart, brave enough, perhaps, on grass or plough-land, but afraid to trespass on the waste. rudely was my mistake brought home to me. now what i am going to tell is not something i have heard: i saw it with my own eyes on the moor which rises from the head of the fen. i was trotting along at the time, planning how best to work the ground on such a still night, when a fox--a stranger to me--came over the brow on my left, and dashed across my front at a gallop. at first i thought he must have some game in sight; but as neither hare nor leveret was to be seen, i could not help, in the absence of any apparent reason for his conduct, imagining that he must be mad, like a fox i once saw crossing the bar. strange fancy, perhaps; but then, what sane animal, and, above all, what fox, would waste his speed after nothing? and what in the world was there for the fugitive to fly from? suddenly i thought of the hound, and as suddenly, just when the fox had disappeared where the land dipped, i heard the thud of heavy feet. peeping between two boulders that concealed me from view, i saw him come over the crest at the spot where i first caught sight of the fox. he was running by scent, but at so tremendous a pace that i feared the fox could not live before him. his silence chilled me more than his loud bay; but though i could not detect the faintest whimper, every moment there was a strange clicking sound--a noise foreign to the moorland. when he came abreast of me i saw it was caused by the broken chain that hung from his neck and struck the steel collar he wore. in a twinkling the dusky fiend had disappeared in the gloom, his head set for the tor. i listened. after a time i heard him crash through a long bramble thicket. then a long interval. then the owls, which had been very noisy, suddenly ceased their midnight chorus. they were watching the tragic chase between the boles of the pines. how it ended i never knew; but i am inclined to think that the fox reached the rocks and escaped. if he had been killed, the foxes which lodged on the western slope of the tor would have forsaken their coverts, at least for a time; and this they did not do. that night it was useless to try to hunt, as i kept looking back every dozen strides for fear the hound might be following me. at last i gave it up; but i did not return along my usual trail, laid when the night had no fear for me. i avoided open ground as much as possible, to steal along tangled dips and gullies. before crossing a ridge i halted to peer through the darkness, fearful of seeing the sinister green eyes that would apprise me of the hound's approach. on reaching the double trail, i cleared it at a bound, as though it had been a line of fire, and made for the river at the spot where it spreads over the marshes; for i hoped by swimming it at its widest part to add to the difficulties of the hound if he should follow me. although the precautions i took proved unnecessary, i mention a few of them to show the fear the creature had inspired in me. after that i used to foil the runs in the brake for the purpose of puzzling him if he chanced to strike my night's trail and tried to trace me to my lair. but of what avail were all my wiles against a creature so endowed? at length the marvellous powers he possessed enabled him not only to find my kennel, but to approach it so noiselessly as almost to surprise me in my sleep. had it not been for the slight rustling of the furze, caused by his grim protruding muzzle, he must have taken me where i lay as a fox takes a rabbit in its seat. as it was it was a close call. enraged at my escape, he came crashing after me. i led him to the cover beyond the quarry, where the furze was close and stunted, and where the runs were so small that he had to force a way along them. in these unfavorable conditions i thought he would soon tire of pursuit; but to my surprise he persisted hour after hour, despite the stifling atmosphere of the brake on such a close, hot day. could he have driven me into the open i should have been at his mercy; i knew this as well as he, and never gave him the chance he longed for. in the end i wearied him out, and none too soon, for i was almost spent before he relinquished the chase. i had escaped, but my dread of the fiend was greater than ever--so great, indeed, that i never went near the brake again as long as he lived. the silence of the night at this time was painful. a dog-fox dared no longer call to his mate for fear of betraying his whereabouts to the hound, now abroad at all hours. i hardly dared sleep two days following, in the same place, lest in his wanderings he should have come upon my couch and be there awaiting me. i lived under a reign of terror, and the gloom that brooded over brake, tor, and fen spread to the higher moors, where the hound had once been seen. but, gloom or no gloom, i had to have food though every journey i made to the fen was at the risk of my life. generally i was through early enough to enable me, by hurrying, to be back in my couch in gorse or heather before dawn. one morning, however, i was so late that i decided to lie up for the day in the fen rather than risk crossing the moors after daybreak. through the mist that lay over the heart of the bog i could just make out the tall clump of rushes where i meant to lie up if the slough should yet prove firm enough to bear my weight. on striking the river, which was much above the previous summer's level, i waded into the water, and, to throw the hound out in the event of his following me, floated some distance with the current before landing on the opposite side. as i rustled through the flags and the belt of reeds, whose dew-laden plumes were sparkling in the first rays of day, a heron rose lazily and, skimming a reed bed, flew away towards the half-risen sun, leaving me, as far as i could see, the sole tenant of the silent marshland. only the bare, flat quagmire now lay between me and my harborage, and, anxious to be hidden from sight, i lost no time in setting out across the treacherous surface. i selected a line which seemed to promise the firmest footing, and stepped with all possible lightness. yet, in spite of every care, i sank deep in places, and midway the crust was so thin that for a while i was in great danger of foundering. however, by putting forth all my strength, i was able, at last, to free myself from the clutches of the more liquid mire and reach the drier, sounder surface between it and the rushes. i was indeed glad to feel the solid ground under my feet once more. had i realized the peril before setting out i should not have attempted to cross. i ought, perhaps, to have turned back on striking the dangerous zone; but, once embarked on an undertaking, it is not in my nature to retreat, for there is that in a fox which makes him go through with his purpose at all hazards, though it may compel him to pass between the legs of the huntsman's horse or traverse a bog that threatens to swallow him up. at last, exhausted and bemired, i entered the clump, whose shadow lay like a wide road across that part of the quagmire where it fell, and chose for my couch a tall heap of dead reeds just inside the wall of pale green stems. it seemed to have served for a nest of the captive wild swan, and had probably been floated to the spot by the subsiding flood. to reach my bed i had to cross the stream which drained the pool within the dense ring of bulrushes; and as i waded through it a well-known scent reached my nostrils, and told me that the wiliest creature of the night had also sought this isolated retreat to hover in. i watched the sedgy islet whence the scent proceeded, expecting to get a glimpse of the otter couching there; but he lay low and did not expose a hair, despite the crackling of the reeds as i made my bed. i was free now to attend to my toilet and prepare for the rest i so much needed. with my pads dirty as they were, sleep was out of the question; so i licked them and my legs as clean as i could, and, thus refreshed, soon dozed off, with a sense of security to which i had long been a stranger. i slept soundly, without the horrid dreams of the previous weeks, and was awakened at last by the hum of insects. a year before, when i often lay in the fen, my ears would not have noticed this loud undertone of noonday life; but latterly i had, for the most part, kennelled in the moors, where were only noiseless butterflies and lizards, silent as sphinxes. i was not really sorry to be disturbed, for it was delightful to lie there, vaguely conscious of the warmth of the sun and looking about me in a drowsy way. i turned my blinking eyes now to the distant mere, sparkling at the end of a vista in the reeds, now to the hoary summit of the tor seen against the blue sky, and again to the water-insects at sport on a small pool just beyond the black shadow which had crept up well-nigh to the foot of the bulrushes. presently, tiring of the view, i was about to drop asleep again, when i heard a noise which, if it had been less violent, i should have thought to be caused by an animal shaking itself. it was followed by a commotion on the river-bank, and then, to my horror, the hound burst through the reeds. he had followed my trail to that point, and guessed where i was, for he kept looking at the clump, and even at the part of it where i was crouching. he threw up his nose and sniffed the air, as i could see by the working of his gleaming nostrils; but there was no wind to carry the scent across the morass--not enough, indeed, to stir he light feathery tops of the reeds behind him. soon he advanced to the very edge of the bog and looked longingly at the clump, as if he were eager to reach it but dared not risk the crossing. at last, after running up and down the edge several times, apparently in search of a hard place, he decided to brave the danger, and with cat-like steps, ludicrous to watch in such a monster, began the perilous passage. he was soon up to his knees, and the deeper he went the greater my excitement grew. every instant i expected to see him sink out of sight. so sure of it did i feel that i almost ventured to show myself and fling at the fiend the reproaches that crowded to my tongue. but though his progress was very slow, he was inch by inch reducing the distance that separated us. before long he was near enough for me to hear the sucking noise made by the slough as it reluctantly released its grip on the long muscular legs. he did not pick and chose his way, or deviate by a reed's breadth from the straight course that would bring him to the gap in the belt of rushes made by the overflow. now he was on the most treacherous part of the quagmire, which shook with the struggle he made to keep his head above the surface. with dilated pupils i watched what must be his last efforts. i noted the rise of the mire on his collar, till at last it rose no farther, but still he came on; and then i noticed the liquid mud raised in front of him like the ripple in front of a swan. wading he must have been, though he looked exactly as though he were swimming; and his great red tongue lolled out with the frantic exertions. when he got nearer his feet must have found the bottom, for his shoulders rose free of the surface; and i saw his hair bristle as though something had suddenly angered him. he had scented me or the otter, or both; and in his haste to add to the number of his victims, he ploughed through the last score yards of mud like a mad creature. along the muddy bed of the overflow he toiled step by step; and the instant he entered the pool, i rose to my feet, doubtful whether to stay or retreat, and paused to listen before committing myself. at that moment i heard a sullen plunge, then another, as two otters dived into the pool. thinking there was safety in numbers, i decided to remain in hiding rather than trust to my slight chance of escape across the bog. the wild struggles of the hound told me he had viewed the otters; but he must have lost them again for presently all was very quiet, though i could hear him at times nosing the rushes and ferns round the pool, as if in search of them. my eyes were as alert as my ears, and soon caught a heave on the surface of the overflow and the gleam of an otter's back as the creature rounded the shallow bend leading to the river. a few seconds later i saw the other otter glide noiselessly away, and then a great fear seized me as i realized that i was left alone with the hound. scarcely were my eyes back on the pool before he landed on the islet, where he stood with the water dripping from his brindled coat, whilst with nostrils raised he sniffed the air. as i watched him through the stems, i became aware that he winded me; and when i saw him take to the water and head straight; for my hiding-place, i stole silently but swiftly away and, fearful of trusting to the muddy bed of the stream, committed myself to the bog. i trod its treacherous surface as lightly as i could, but because of the smallness of my feet i kept breaking through the crust, and made only slow progress. nevertheless i succeeded in getting farther than i expected before the hound sighted me. as soon as he did he burst through the rushes and, making a tremendous spring, landed within a few yards of where i was struggling with the mire. this wild leap of his saved me. had he been content to follow at his best pace, the chances are that he would have caught me before i could reach the bank of the river; but now, through the violence of his fall, he was so deeply embedded that i gained many yards before he could extricate himself. indeed, by the time he had done so i had reached the more liquid part of the morass where i had all but foundered at sunrise. with the double danger threatening me, i exerted myself even more than then; but, madly as i struggled, my progress was not nearly as fast as that of the hound, now overhauling me. it was horrible to hear this murderous fiend whimpering and whining in his eagerness to get at me, and to feel that i was scarcely advancing at all. i was like a fox in a nightmare, only i was never more wide awake in my life. fright however kept urging me on, and to my joy i at last felt firmer ground under my feet. the bank gained, i turned my head for an instant, and saw my pursuer seemingly stuck in the treacherous mud-belt; but i did not waste precious time watching him. that he still reckoned me his i felt sure; that i should escape i had little hope; nevertheless, i meant to do my utmost to save my life. i galloped down-stream close to the water's edge, took the otter's path across the neck of the bend, swam the river, and on landing plunged into the great reed-brakes. on, on i went at my full speed, driven by mortal fear. i knew i was not yet out of danger. here a wild-duck rose in affright, there a moorhen scurried out of my way; but i kept straight on past clumps of osmunda ferns and flags, and across backwaters till at last, after swimming a maze of water-ways, i came to the grassy promontory that flanks the inflow of the river into the mere. for a moment i stood there irresolute. should i take to the water or trust to the bordering reeds? whilst i hesitated, i thought i heard the hound coming, and the next instant dropped into the stream. partly by swimming, but chiefly by the aid of the current, i succeeded in reaching the nearest islet of the little archipelago that studded the rippled expanse. there i hoped to find refuge from my relentless pursuer. i had arrived only just in time, for, peeping through the sedgy growth that covered my hiding-place, i saw the hound gallop to the end of the promontory and stand gazing over the wide surface. then he withdrew to the brake that rose like a lofty wall about the mere. i could trace his progress by the rising of the wild-fowl whose sanctuaries he invaded, and later by the glimpse i got of the angered swan swimming defiantly across the narrow opening of a big creek about which the array of reeds was densest. i saw no further sign of the brute that had so rudely violated the summer peace of the fenland, but wisdom seemed to dictate that i should look elsewhere for a more peaceful home. * * * * * transcriber's note: page 12: changed "night" to "nights." (orig: and how short those night were!) page 20: changed "crusing" to "cruising." (orig: crusing restlessly up and down the turf) page 23: changed "noes" to "noses." (orig: turned up our noes at such food) page 37: changed "exhilirating" to "exhilarating." (orig: it was most exhilirating to be wandering) page 40: changed "thristing" to "thirsting." (orig: stealthy enemy thristing for its blood) page 42: changed "lucious" to "luscious." (orig: every bit of the lucious morsel) page 53: changed "malard" to "mallard." (orig: a loud quack the malard disappeared) page 53: changed "mallord" to "mallard." (orig: how he enjoyed the mallord,) page 67: changed "nothinginess" to "nothingness." (orig: dwarf into nothinginess the annoyances) page 71: changed "manteled" to "mantled." (orig: skimmed the brake that manteled the steep slope) page 74: changed "pursurers" to "pursuers." (orig: i should be able to elude my pursurers) page 76: changed "rocognized" to "recognized." (orig: he rocognized the bedraggled cub) page 81: changed "grievious" to "grievous." (orig: chief of these are the grievious losses) page 92: changed "be" to "he." (orig: killed by the pack; be was the man who,) page 103: changed "waching" to "watching." (orig: it was bitter work waching with the gale in your teeth,) page 132: changed "pursurer" to "pursuer." (orig: and saw my pursurer seemingly stuck) 