The Springfield Fox 



I did not know of any spring so near, and in 

 the hot night it was a glad find. But the sound 

 led me to the bough of an oak-tree, where I 

 found its source. Such a soft sweet song ; full 

 of delightful suggestion on such a night : 



Tonk tank tenk tink 

 Ta tink a tonk a tank a tink a 

 Ta ta tink tank ta ta tonk tink 

 Drink a tank a drink a drunk. 



It was the 'water-dripping' song of the 



saw-whet owl. 



But suddenly a deep raucous breathing and 

 a rustle of leaves showed that Ranger was back 

 He was completely fagged out. His tongue 

 hung almost to the ground and was dripping with 

 foam, his flanks were heaving and spume-flecks 

 dribbled from his breast and sides. He stopped 

 panting a moment to give my hand a dutiful 

 lick, then flung himself flop on the leaves to 

 drown all other sounds with his noisy panting. 



But again that tantalizing ' Yap yurrr ' was 

 heard a few feet away, and the meaning of it 

 all dawned on me. 



We were close to the den where the little 



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