46 THE THIRD YEARBOOK 



to treat it as a unique personality that has a particular mission to 

 fill in the world's economy, and as having the power to devise 

 special ways and means for accomplishing its work. Studied in 

 this way, it becomes an actor with a definite part, not merely a 

 cumberer of the earth. 



It is safe to say that one rarely observes with care the habits of 

 any particular creature without discovering that it has some peculi- 

 arity not noted in the books. The hunter and trapper, the breeder, 

 the fancier, the keeper of pets, the man of science, each has his 

 story that shows up the child of nature from his own particular line 

 of approach. The following instances, taken from personal obser- 

 vation, will serve to illustrate the point : 



I once was on more or less intimate terms with an old fox that 

 had a large family of young housed in a deserted coal mine that 

 entered the side of the hill about half a mile away. Naturally 

 enough, the mother depended largely upon the farm-yard prod- 

 ucts for the maintenance of her family, and one time I had a 

 chance to study her methods. She was observed, some distance 

 away from the barn, stalking a flock of chickens. She simply 

 walked after them, apparently knowing that if she became too 

 enthusiastic in the pursuit, they might, and probably would, take 

 wing. Finding that she was being watched, she bounded away 

 to the den. Noticing a bunch of feathers lying in the course over 

 which she had stalked the chickens, I proceeded to investigate, not 

 doubting that I should find the mangled remains of a fowl. To 

 my astonishment, instead, I found a rooster, with his heels in the 

 air, lying on his back in a shallow hole, left by a horse's foot in 

 the soft turf, and entirely unhurt. When I set him upon his feet, 

 he ran away, no doubt much surprised to find himself alive. The 

 fox evidently had put the chicken on his back into this hole, at 

 the same time hypnotizing him into the belief that he could not 

 extricate himself. Presumably he, by following this plan up, would 

 have secured a full load of poultry before returning to the den 

 to face the clamoring youngsters. I subsequently tried the same 

 experiment upon a rooster, and found that by placing him on his 

 back, as the fox had done, I, too, could make him lie still — but I 

 learned the trick from the fox. I have never read of a similar 

 observation, and cannot say whether it was a habit peculiar to this 

 particular fox or not. 



