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HABITS OF THE FOX, (VULPES VULGARIS.) 



BY A. S. MOFFAT, ESQ. 



Although many wondrous tales are told about the cunning and sagacity 

 of the Fox, some no doubt true, others fabulous, I trust that the following 

 account of the manners and habits of one which I kept upwards of two years 

 in confinement, may not prove uninteresting to the readers of "The Naturalist." 



In the spring of 1838, the woodman at Beanley Plantation discovered the 

 breeding-earth of a Fox, at the mouth of which he placed a trap, and caught 

 the old bitch; and afterwards, with the assistance of two or three neighbours, 

 dug out the young cubs, five in number, about the size of half-grown Rats, 

 and covered with dark brown fur. I became possessed of one of these, which 

 for several days at first was very discontented with its new situation, and 

 kept almost constantly calling out in a sort of quick yelping bark. It 

 however lapped milk readily, and soon became reconciled, and so tame, that 

 until it was twelve months old, it had its liberty about the dwelling-house 

 the same as a Dog, which in many points of character it closely resembled. 



When more than half-grown, it used to follow me about the garden and 

 village, and frequently made little excursions amongst the cottages by itself, 

 popping into the houses to investigate their larders, to the no small terror 

 of the old women, who regarded it with as much admiration as a Yankee 

 regards the Skunk; and frequently have I seen them to my no small 

 amusement, endeavouring in vain to drive him out with a broom, but 

 Reynard, not to be ousted in this manner, would contrive somehow or other 

 still to pop past them with the most impudent effrontery imaginable; and not 

 leave the house, in spite of every friendly invective, until it suited himself. 



At this period of its life, it did not seem to evince that extreme distrust 

 towards strangers which was so sti'ongly marked when it arrived fully at 

 maturity; nor did it seem ever tc desire at that time to resume its native 

 habits; while its affection for all the members of our own family seemed to 

 be even stronger than is generally witnessed in Dogs. Every night while it 

 remained as an inmate of the dwelling-house, it slept upon a mat at the foot 

 of the staircase in the passage; and as each member of the family came down in 

 the morning, it used to meet them half-way, and express its joy by leaping 

 against them, and uttering a sort of hoarse scream, much after the manner 

 of an affectionate Dog, and fanning its tail in the same way; only the 

 expression of its satisfaction seemed more extravagant. 



When nearly full-grown, Reynard's natural predilection for poultry manifested 

 itself one day, with his being met by the servant carrying in his mouth a 

 Turkey hen, which he had abstracted from her nest in the yard, for which 

 act of felony he was ever afterwards confined by a chain in a grass area 

 behind the house, with a Dog-coop for shelter. This house, made by man, 

 he very seldom inhabited, and preferred a hole of his own digging which 

 he generally lay in. His confidence and affection for every member of our 

 own family was never in the least impaired by his confinement, but his 



VOL. IV. /<^H mI^ 



