THE LIFE OF A FOX 395 



rabbit and floating away as though his speed had 

 been of wings rather than feet. The cubs grew up 

 and dispersed into the woods, two of them falling 

 victims to the opening meet, when young hounds are 

 blooded, the others disappearing from the ken of 

 this valley. But Vulpes and his mate kept the same 

 beat ; levied their customary toll on the hen-houses 

 of their four or five mile radius ; renewed their 

 marvellous knowledge of the country that had so 

 often saved their lives from the hot-footed pack. 



A rather unwise change in the routine of our 

 hens gave the fox a chance that he was not slow to 

 take. The house was placed a little afield, in the 

 hope that the fowls would forage elsewhere than in 

 the garden that they had frequented too much. But 

 they kept the same daily habits as before, returning 

 in the afternoon to their home in the suburbs. Here 

 Vulpes waited for them once or twice, and bore off 

 each time some scatter-brain that had waited too 

 long for the last worm. The only wonder is that he 

 did not take them all, when we consider the desperate 

 deeds that won for him the detestation of some of our 

 neighbours. About two miles away was a stock of 

 prize birds, the value of which easily topped ten 

 pounds. A night passed in the usual silence, so far 

 as the owner knew, but no ringing call of chanticleer 

 announced the advent of day. Seventeen pedigree 

 fowl lay dead in a rough heap on the floor, while the 

 remaining two were, as they say in battle reports, 

 " missing." 



It is the midnight visit of " Mr. adjectival Fox," 

 as he is called here, that is most to be feared. His 

 far bolder raids on another neighbour resulted in 



