6o 



THE SNOW-WALKERS. 



ceive your dog, with inverted tail and shame and con- 

 fusion in his looks, sneaking toward you, the old fox 

 but a few rods in his rear. You speak to him sharply, 

 when he bristles up, turns about, and, barking, starts 

 off vigorously, as if to wipe out the dishonor ; but in a 

 moment comes sneaking back more abashed than ever, 

 and owns himself unworthy to be called a dog. The 

 fox fairly shames him out of the woods. The secret of 

 the matter is her sex, though her conduct, for the 

 honor of the fox be it said, seems to be prompted only 

 by solicitude for the safety of her young. 



One of the most notable features of the fox is his 

 large and massive tail. Seen running on the snow, at 

 a distance, his tail is quite as conspicuous as his body ; 

 and, so far from appearing a burden, seems to con- 

 tribute to his lightness and buoyancy. It softens the 

 outline of his movements, and repeats or continues to 

 the eye the ease and poise of his carriage. But, pur- 

 sued by the hound on a wet, thawy day, it oftens be- 

 comes so heavy and bedraggled as to prove a serious 

 inconvenience, and compels him to take refuge in his 

 den. He is very loth to do this ; both his pride and 

 the traditions of his race stimulate him to run it out, 

 and win by fair superiority of wind and speed ; and 

 only a wound or a heavy and moppish tail will drive him 

 to avoid the issue in this manner. 



To learn his surpassing shrewdness and cunning, 

 attempt to take him with a trap. Rogue that he is, 

 he always suspects some trick, and one must be more 



