THE MIND OF THE FOX 61 



began. The soundest sleepers among foxes are 

 soon cut off, as all huntsmen know. I have 

 more than once watched a startled fox, every 

 sense on the alert, the keen nose slightly raised, 

 the ears forward, one slender paw uplifted. Now 

 there are three courses open to him : to fly, to 

 stay, to creep underground. But, again, the fox 

 does not dwell on the horrors of the present, as 

 a sensitive man or timid woman might do. During 

 the flight he has the refuge he is seeking in his 

 mind, and the best way there, which he takes, 

 as we have seen, by the aid of a very minute 

 memory of the objects on the way. He regulates 

 his pace partly by the sound of the pack, partly by 

 the knowledge he has of the state of the scent. At 

 first he has, I think, no terrors : his main object is to 

 reach a place where he can avoid disturbance. It is 

 not absolutely certain that, so long as his powers are 

 in full activity, he realises the fact that he is being 

 pursued, or the intentions of his pursuers. When, 

 however, he begins to fail, when one after another 

 his familiar refuges are closed against him, then his 

 intelligence works to find other means of escape. He 

 is conscious of his failing strength, of the nearness of 

 his foes, and a desire to find a refuge anywhere seizes 

 him. Then it is that foxes seek strange hiding-places. 



