50 A FOX TALE 



whin bushes just then, hove in sight, and, summoning up all 

 her strength, she made a last spurt, and crept into the 

 thick of them. The dog followed for a short distance, 

 but evidently found the thorns too sharp for his thick nose 

 and long flapping ears, for he soon retired, leaving Mother 

 Fox gasping, but triumphant, with her little one safe and 

 sound. She crept some way farther into the bushes to 

 guard against pursuit, and there lay hidden till nightfall, 

 when once more she stole stealthily out with her cub in 

 her mouth, and made tracks for a hollow tree which she 

 knew of in the neighbourhood. Eeaching it in safety, she 

 soon had a warm nest made in the dark recesses of the 

 tree trunk, where little Eenard lay for weeks eating and 

 sleeping by turns, till he grew into quite a respectable fox. 

 And what a merry little fellow he was ! As playful as a 

 kitten, and quite as active ; gambolling all round and 

 over his poor patient mother, burying his face in the furry 

 depths of her brush, or, if she refused him that huge 

 enjoyment, flying round and round in a mad race after 

 his own, till he looked for all the world like a woolly 

 spinning top ! 



But life is not all play, even to little foxes, and young 

 Renard was awakened every night by a poke in the back 

 from his father, who wanted his company on all noc- 

 turnal expeditions ; for, strange as it may seem to us, 

 foxes have lessons at night and sleep through the day, 

 instead of having lessons through the day and sleeping 

 at night. And sometimes little Renard was good at his 

 lessons, and sometimes he was not. Very often, on 

 catching sight of a pheasant or a partridge, instead of 

 trailing his hind legs out behind him, as his father did, he 

 would forget, and gallop full tilt at his prey, and yelp with 

 excitement, expecting the bird to sit still and be caught ! 

 and not till the pheasant was whirring away high in the 

 air would he remember that stealth and cunning alone 

 will win a fox his daily bread. 



Hitherto little Renard had known no sorrow, and it 



