A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



The fox had been trapped sometime in the 

 past, and had regained its liberty by the 

 loss of a foot. The space in the trail repre- 

 sented the missing foot. This fox was no 

 stranger to my dooryard, and months before 

 I had named her Triplefoot, because she trav- 

 elled on three feet. She had a charmed life, 

 for the fox-hunters had failed in their efforts 

 to shoot her, so far, although for over 

 a year she was the only fox in this locality, 

 and the hounds hazed her night and day. 



After breakfast I started on Triplefoot's 

 trail. There was a good tracking snow, and 

 I was determined to trail the fox to her den. 

 The trail led down the old highway, but 

 turned off to visit Solomon's Orchard. This 

 was a spot containing two ruined cellars, a 

 large clump of barberry-bushes, and some 

 wild apple-trees, descendants of a cultivated 

 orchard. The fox did some foraging under 

 the barberry bushes, and a drop or two of 

 blood on the snow indicated that she was 

 successful in capturing a wood-mouse. While 

 I was looking for the trail out of the orchard, 



