BIG REDDY, STRATEGIST 45 
cither side was open field or pasture. Zach be- 
gan to run toward him, so he’d get a shot at close 
range. The fox saw him and sprang up on the 
stone wall. On the wall—and Zach will swear to 
this with his hand on the family Bible—he faced 
Zach, bared his teeth and laughed. “ Laughed 
right out loud,” Zach says. ‘Then, before Zach 
could raise the gun, he leaped to the farther side. 
Zach sprang to the wall to fire. 
He didn’t fire. The old fox had jumped 
square into the middle of Zach’s flock of prize 
Shropshire sheep, and was stampeding them 
across the pasture, safe in the middle! 
Now Zach understood why he laughed. And 
maybe you can see where Big Reddy, his son, got 
his sense of humor. 
Big Reddy’s mother, too, is not to be ignored. 
In fact, if it had not been for her bravery, Reddy 
would never have grown to man’s estate a free 
agent. It was this way. When the boys discov- 
ered the den, on the far edge of the sugar bush, 
they were all for digging the foxes out, for pets. 
Considering the fact that there was a pile of 
chicken bones beside the den, I consented. They 
