72 FIELD-NOTES FOR THE YEAR. CH. XXIV. 



The cottagers who live near the woods are con- 

 stantly complaining of the foxes, who steal their 

 fowls frequently in broad daylight, carrying them 

 off before the faces of the women, but never com- 

 mitting themselves in this way when the men are at 

 home. From the quantity of debris of fowls, ducks, 

 etc., which are strewed here and there near the 

 abodes of these animals, the mischief they do in 

 this way must be very great. 



Cunning, however, as they are, I not unfre- 

 quently put them up while walking through the 

 swamps. They lie, in fancied security, on some 

 dry tuft of heather in the midst of the pools ; 

 and not expecting or being accustomed to be dis- 

 turbed, they remain there until my retriever 

 raises them close to my feet. One fine day, in the 

 beginning of this month, when the sun was bright 

 and warm, a setter who was with me made a 

 very singular kind of point in the long heather, 

 looking round at me with an air most expressive 

 of " Come and see what I have here." As soon 

 as I got near the dog made a rush into the rough 

 heather, putting out a large dog fox, who had 

 been napping or basking. The fox made a bolt 

 almost between my legs to get at a hole near the 

 place ; but I stopped him with a charge of duck 

 shot : the dog, though as steady as possible at all 



