BIG REDDY, STRATEGIST 65 
bay. It was Lucy, the one hound they dreaded! 
The den was two miles or more away! And 
Whitetip had only three legs to run on! 
She struggled bravely to her feet, and hobbled 
on as rapidly as she could behind her mate, while 
he made his plans. It was plain Lucy was on 
Whitetip’s trail. How to get her off was the 
problem. At the head of an open pasture slope 
Reddy stopped, just behind a big boulder which 
concealed both foxes from the view of anything 
following them. Lucy was now not more than 
three hundred yards behind. He sent Whitetip 
on up into the scrub, and waited. 
On came Lucy, working in her own wonderful 
way, burying her muzzle up to the eyes in the 
snow for a step or two, then emerging to emit a 
deep, trumpet bay, then down again in the scent, 
and never stopping her steady progress. Reddy 
waited till she was within fifteen feet of the boul- 
der, then he suddenly stepped out directly in 
front of her, so that she could not help seeing him. 
Out of the snow came her muzzle, out of her 
mouth came a silver challenge, and at him she 
sprang. He was away like a shot, at an oblique 
