56 THE FOX. 



Rats, however, are a very different proposition, 

 and when one rat sits up and squeals, every rat 

 within hearing is likely to hasten to the spot, so 

 that Reynard is pretty sure of a coup should he 

 consider it worth while to attempt this squealing 

 stunt in the vicinity of a farmyard. 



In Canada I one day saw a fox come out of a 

 poplar-grove, and peering through the scrub, he 

 caught sight of a brace of plump, snowshoe rabbits 

 nibbling the second-growth spruce that dotted the 

 snow-covered plateau. For a long time he eyed 

 them covetously, evidently thinking out a scheme 

 for bringing about their downfall. It was a diffi- 

 cult problem, however, for the snowshoe can skim 

 the drifts more easily than a fox, and if once the 

 rabbits succeeded in gaining the underbrush, Rey- 

 nard would not get a look in. His only chance 

 lay in snapping up one of them in the open ; yet 

 how? The plateau was level as a billiard-table, 

 and, save for the thinly scattered spruce, afforded 

 just about as much cover. 



Presently the fox began to scratch in the snow, 

 digging a trench under the jumper, and extending 

 it out into the open towards the rabbits. Evi- 

 dently he knew they would return to the grove 

 this way, for, having extended the trench well into 

 the open, he was content to lie concealed behind 

 his breastwork and wait. Sure enough the rabbits 

 began to nibble their way towards him, but at 

 this juncture the cold warned me to move on. 

 There is little doubt, however, that one or the 

 other of the rabbits would fall to the fox. 



In that particular part of Alberta foxes existed 

 in most surprising numbers, and all through the 

 night one could hear them yapping. Sometimes 

 they uttered a long, thin, wavering howl, which 



