94 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



contains from three to ten, and when a few weeks old the young 

 are as playful and as interesting as domestic kittens. The den 

 in which they are born may be a hollow tree, a hollow log, or 

 more often an underground tunnel with several entrances and 

 a storeroom besides the living chamber. The nest is never 

 lined, but left quite bare and is kept clean. Their principal 

 food is derived from mice, birds, fowl, and rabbits; and the 

 parents frequently cache food for both their young and them- 

 selves. No wonder they are good providers, for what with 

 their keen sense of scent and their great speed they seldon 

 fail in their hunts. They are fond of open country and have 

 an individual range of very few miles, perhaps ten at the most. 

 In winter they run singly until the mating season; seldom 

 are the tracks of more than two foxes seen together, and their 

 principal enemies are men, wolves, lynxes, and dogs. 



As the district through which we were passing was rich in 

 fox-signs, Oo-koo-hoo set a number of traps. Such work takes 

 time, and when we reached a well-wooded grove of second- 

 growth birch, poplars, and — along a little creek — willows, we 

 began to think of where we should camp for the night. Be- 

 sides, the old hunter deemed it an ideal spot in which to set 

 lynx and rabbit snares. So while the boys cut wood for the 

 fire and brush for our beds, and then turned to the cooking of 

 supper, Oo-koo-hoo cut a great mass of birch, poplar, and willow 

 branches and tops, and threw them into piles, not only to at- 

 tract the rabbits thither, but to afford them a prolonged feast 

 for many weeks, and thus fatten them for his own use; more- 

 over, the gathering of the rabbits would prove a strong attrac- 

 tion for the lynxes of the region. Sometimes, at such a spot, 

 hundreds of rabbits will feed, and in winter time the place may 

 become such a network of runways that if it happens to be a 

 fairly open hillside one can see from half a mile away the 

 shadows of the endless tracks that mark the glistening snow in 

 all directions. 



