Vixen 141 



as though listening, then raising his little black 

 nose he poured out a short, quavering cry. 



Once or twice this was repeated, the time 

 between being occupied in worrying the chain 

 and running about. Then an answer came. 

 The far-away Yap yurrr of the old fox. A few 

 minutes later a shadowy form appeared on the 

 wood-pile. The little one slunk into his box, 

 but at once returned and ran to meet his mother 

 with all the gladness that a fox could show. 

 Quick as a flash she seized him and turned to 

 bear him away by the road she came. But the 

 moment the end of the chain was reached the 

 cub was rudely jerked from the old one's 

 mouth, and she, scared by the opening of a 

 window, fled over the wood-pile. 



An hour afterward the cub had ceased to run 

 about or cry. I peeped out, and by the light 

 of the moon saw the form of the mother at full 

 length on the ground by the little one gnaw- 

 ing at something — the clank of iron told what, 

 it was that cruel chain. And Tip, the little 

 one, meanwhile was helping himself to a warm 

 drink. 



On my going out she fled into the dark 

 woods, but there by the shelter-box were two 

 little mice, bloody and still warm, food for the 

 cub brought by the devoted mother. And in 



