48 WINTER SUNSHINE 



You speak to him sharply, when he hristles up, 

 turns about, and, barking, starts off vigorously, as 

 if to wipe out the dishonor; but in a moment comes 

 sneaking back more abashed than ever, and owns 

 himself unworthy to be called a dog. The fox fairly 

 shames him out of the woods. The secret of the 

 matter is her sex, though her conduct, for the honor 

 of the fox be it said, seems to be prompted only by 

 solicitude for the safety of her young. 



One of the most notable features of the fox is his 

 large and massive tail. Seen running on the snow 

 at a distance, his tail is quite as conspicuous as his 

 body; and, so far from appearing a burden, seems 

 to contribute to his lightness and buoyancy. It 

 softens the outline of his movements, and repeats or 

 continues to the eye the ease and poise of his car- 

 riage. But, pursued by the hound on a wet, thawy 

 day, it often becomes so heavy and bedraggled as to 

 prove a serious inconvenience, and compels him to 

 take refuge in his den. He is very loath to do this; 

 both his pride and the traditions of his race stimu- 

 late him to run it out, and win by fair superiority 

 of wind and speed; and only a wound or a heavy 

 and moppish tail will drive him to avoid the issue 

 in this manner. 



To learn his surpassing shrewdness and cunning, 

 attempt to take him with a trap. Kogue that he 

 is, he always suspects some trick, and one must be 

 more of a fox than he is himself to overreach him. 

 At first sight it would appear easy enough. With 

 apparent indifference he crosses your path, or walks 



