96 WOODLAND CREATURES 



his glowing coat, which gleams red at every move- 

 ment. Down the wintry breeze comes the sound 

 of horses trotting, and then the voice of the hunts- 

 man putting hounds into covert, but they are a 

 long way off as yet, and the fox appears well 

 aware there is no need for hurry. From the 

 leisurely way he sits down on his haunches, mean- 

 while licking his nose reflectively, one might think 

 he is weighing up the chances of the pack getting 

 on the line of some other fox. But all the time 

 his keen, somewhat catlike, amber-coloured eyes are 

 fixed in the one direction, and when there comes 

 the sound of the horn, he jumps up, and with a 

 whisk of his white-tagged brush trots leisurely 

 away. He is cool and collected, in no hurry 

 whatever, but determined to take no unnecessary 

 risks, and if the pack should get on his line he has 

 assured himself of a good start. The blackbirds 

 shriek abuse at him from the hedgerows, but he 

 pays no attention to them, and slips silently from 

 sight, disappearing like the passing of a red-brown 

 shadow between the bushes. 



Another episode which illustrates the coolness 

 of a fox in the face of danger was that in which 

 a hunted fox took refuge on a ledge in a quarry. 

 He was quite fresh, not having been hunted long, 

 but he made for the quarry where there was a 

 high cliff. In full view of a number of people he 

 was seen to run along a narrow ledge into the 

 cliff, a ledge so narrow that only a fox or a cat 

 could have found foothold on it, until he came to 

 a spot where it became a trifle wider. Here he 



