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7he7te/7ofifie 

 Cunning One 



where he is, and if he goes away, the foxes 

 will fall upon his game ravenously and leave 

 him only dry pickings when he comes back 

 again. He backs away craftily at last, and 

 then, when a bush hides him and the foxes 

 are tearing at the game, he rushes back and 

 scatters them like a whirlwind. 



So the little comedy runs on, and each 

 player writes his own part in the snow for 

 your eyes to read. It always ends the same 

 way. Pequam leaves his game grudgingly 

 and curls him up to sleep in his hollow log. 

 But he slumbers uneasily at first, as one 

 does with something on his mind ; and before 

 he can sleep contentedly he must get up once 

 or twice to chivy the foxes, which by this 

 time have eaten their full and are carrying 

 away portions to hide in the woods. 



It is perhaps the thought of these hungry 

 thieves — if even a fox can be called a thief 

 for helping himself when he is hungry — 

 (( that leads Pequam to leave behind him a 

 curious sign of his ownership. Once I found 

 where he had killed a porcupine and left 

 & the greater portion of it uneaten. Instead of 



