46 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
dug in from the entrance, one of them holding a 
big sack constantly open to catch mother fox if 
she tried to jump out. But she didn’t jump, and 
before long the diggers reached the chamber, and 
there were three little, round, furry, blinking, 
frightened foxes, the prettiest pups you ever saw. 
But no mother. There was fresh earth about, 
and the hole went on! 
“ She’s digging her way out!” the boys cried, 
and attacked the new tunnel. The ground was 
hard and full of roots from the maple trees, so 
they couldn’t dig very rapidly, not so rapidly as 
the mother moved, for they had to get down two 
feet to reach her hole. 
I saw what she was up to, but said nothing to 
the boys. They followed her from behind as she 
swung a loop, and made for the entrance to her 
old den. The boys realized this at last, and 
sprang to head her off. But they were too late. 
Before they could snatch up the bag and get it 
opened, she suddenly pawed her way frantically 
through into daylight, one pup—all she could 
carry—in her mouth, and sprang out. As the 
dog had been carefully left at home, of course 
