8 Ways of Wood Folk. 



Once, in just such a place, I had a rare chance to 

 watch him. It was on the summit of a great bare 

 hill. Down in the woods by a swamp, five or six 

 hounds were waking the winter echoes merrily on 

 a fresh trail. I was hoping for a sight of Reynard 

 when he appeared from nowhere, on a rock not fifty 

 yards away. There he lay, his nose between his 

 paws, listening with cjuiet interest to the uproar 

 below. Occasionally he raised his head as some 

 young dog scurried near, yelping maledictions upon 

 a perfect tangle of fox tracks, none of which went 

 anywhere. Suddenly he sat up straight, twisted his 

 head sideways, as a dog does when he sees the most 

 interesting thing of his life, dropped his tongue out 

 a bit, and looked intently. I looked too, and there, 

 just below, was old Roby, the best foxhound in a 

 dozen counties, creeping like a cat along the top 

 rail of a sheep-fence, now putting his nose down to 

 the wood, now throwing his head back for a great 

 howl of exultation. — It was all immensely entertain- 

 ing ; and nobody seemed to be enjoying it more than 

 the fox. 



One of the most fascinating bits of animal study is 

 to begin at the very beginning of fox education, i.e., 

 to find a fox den, and go there some afternoon in 

 early June, and hide at a distance, where you can 

 watch the entrance through your field-glass. Every 



