ALONG THE HIGHWAY OF THE FOX 15 



and does it so neatly — sometimes so very thrillingly ! 

 On three occasions I have seen him do the trick, 

 each time by a little different dodge. 



One day, as I was climbing the wooded ridge be- 

 hind the farm, I heard a single foxhound yelping 

 at intervals in the hollow beyond. Coming cautiously 

 to the top, I saw the hound below me beating slowly 

 along through the bare sprout-land, half a mile away, 

 and having a hard time holding to the trail. Every 

 few minutes he would solemnly throw his big black 

 head into the air, stop stock-still, and yelp a long 

 doleful yelp, as if begging the fox to stop its fooling 

 and try to leave a reasonable trail. 



The hound was walking, not running ; and round 

 and round he would go, off this way, off that, then 

 back when, catching the scent again, he would up 

 with his muzzle and howl for all the woods to hear. 

 But I think it was for the fox to hear. 



I was watching the curious and solemn perform- 

 ance, and wondering if the fox really did hear and 

 understand, when, not far from me, on the crown of 

 the ridge, something stirred. 



Without moving so much as my eyes, I saw the 

 fox, a big beauty, going slowly and cautiously round 

 and round in a small circle among the bushes, then 

 straight off for a few steps, then back in the same 

 tracks; off again in another direction and back 

 again ; then in and out, round and round, until, 

 springing lightly away from the top of a big stump 



