GREY FOX AND THE ROOSTER 145 



between the coming of the fiddler and two of 

 the clock, in order not to be ''worrited" whilst 

 at meat, was a record on Brea Farm. In 

 the multitude of his duties, however, one thing 

 escaped him — he forgot to shut up the rooster. 

 The oversight, as things turned out, meant a 

 sore trial for the cock, tragic consequences for 

 the hare. Nor were they long in coming. 



At a few minutes past three the long snout, 

 yellow eyes, and red tongue of Grey Fox 

 appeared round the very corner where the pole- 

 cat had showed. Whilst lying in the brake, 

 he had heard the cock crow, and with his mate 

 had come after it. They had come as fast as 

 they could lay pad to ground ; they were starv- 

 ing. For three days they had found nothing 

 to eat over the miles and miles of country they 

 had searched, and now at last within four leaps, 

 there stood this fat rooster scratching away 

 the snow. Was ever so tempting a morsel, 

 ever so easy a victim, exposed to the eyes of 

 ravenous wildlings ? Yet the unusual silence 

 excited Grey Fox's suspicions of a trap. Might 

 not the bird be a bait, a decoy to lure him into 

 the gin where he had already left one of his 

 claws? If not, what was cock-a-doodle doing 

 there alone ? After all it was too great a risk. 



But by this the little vixen — she looked but 



