excels. He has become adept in this. Keen-nosed hounds, bred 

 for speed and stamina, are his chief foes. 



When pressed hard by fast dogs, Reynard breaks his scent line 

 by running brooks, crossing small rivers diagonally, running 

 stonewalls and windfall trees, leaping off ledges, skirting thin 

 ice, merging his scent with that of deer, sheep, cattle, or rising 

 flocks of waterfowl, and disguising his smell by rolling in mint 

 beds and manure. These are old tricks handed down by his ances- 

 tors. Quick to turn modern conditions to his advantage, the 

 fox of today slows up large hounds by slipping under barbed 

 wire fences and electrified cattle wire. He has learned that the 

 gasoline fumes on highways and the acrid locomotive odors on 

 railroad tracks vitiate his scent. 



Foxes used to spell one another by changing places in hollow 

 logs during a chase. Many up-to-date foxes employ steel pipes 

 and concrete highway culverts. This is their answer to vitamin- 

 fortified dog food. 



