THE FOX. 83 



next morning three large goslings were reported 

 missing. The silly geese now got it through their 

 noddles that there was danger about, and every night 

 thereafter came close up to the house to roost. 



A brood of turkeys, the old one tied to a tree a 

 few rods to the rear of the house, were the next ob- 

 jects of attack. The predaceous rascal came, as 

 usual, in the latter, half of the night. I happened to 

 be awake, and heard the helpless turkey cry " Quit," 

 " quit," with great emphasis. Another sleeper, on 

 the floor above me, who, it seems, had been sleeping 

 with one ear awake for several nights in apprehen- 

 sion for the safety of his turkeys, heard the sound 

 also, arid instantly divined its cause. I heard the 

 window open and a voice summon the dogs. A loud 

 bellow was the response, which caused Reynard to 

 take himself off in a hurry. A moment more, and 

 the mother turkey would have shared the fate of the 

 geese. There she lay at the end of her tether, with 

 extended wings, bitten and rumpled. The young 

 vines roosted in a row on the fence near by, and had 

 taken flight on the first alarm. 



Turkeys, retaining many of their wild instincts, are 

 less easily captured by the fox than any other of our 

 domestic fowls. On the slightest show of danger 

 they take to wing, and it is not unusual, in the local- 

 ity of which I speak, to find them in the morning 

 perched in the most unwonted places, as on the peak 

 of the barn or hay-shed, or on the tops of the apple- 

 irees, their tails spread and their manners showing 



