26 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY, 
animals within his reach, by imitating their voices: this is 
confirmed by Captain Lyon, who states, “that while tent- 
ing, we observed a Fox prowling on a hill side, and heard 
him for several hours afterwards in different places, imi- 
tating the cry of a brent goose.” Crantz, in his History of 
Greenland, informs us, that this species also exert an extra- 
ordinary degree of cunning in their mode of obtaining fish. 
They go into the water, and make a splash with their feet 
in order to excite their curiosity, and when they come up, 
seize them. The mode in which some species entrap 
water fowl is also extremely ingenious. They advance a 
little way into the water and afterwards retire, playing a 
thousand antic tricks on the banks. The fowl approach, 
and when they come near, the animal ceases, that he may 
not alarm them, moving only his tail about, and that very 
gently, till the birds approach so near that he is enabled to 
seize one or more. * But these are trifling displays of in- 
genuity in comparison to some which are related of these 
animals. Thus, Pliny says, that such is the sagacity of 
Foxes that they will not venture on any piece of ice until 
they have ascertained its thickness and strength, by apply- 
ing their ear to it. A late traveller in Norway, we believe 
Capell Brooke, states that the Foxes of the North Cape 
take sea fowl by letting one of their companions over the 
edge of a cliff by his tail, and where this does not enable 
them to reach their prey, that a line is formed of no incon- 
siderable length, by seizing each other’s tails in their 
mouths. That credulous author, Pontoppidan, also informs 
us, “ that a certain person was surprised on seeing a Fox 
near a fisherman’s house, laying a parcel of fishes’ heads in 
a row; he waited the event, the Fox hid himself behind 
them, and made a booty of the first crow that came for a 
bit of them.” 
This character of cunning and extreme prudence in the 
Fox, renders him extremely difficult to be destroyed, or 
taken. As soon as he has acquired a little experience, he 
is not to be deceived by the snares laid for him, and the 
moment he recognizes them, nothing can induce him to 
approach them, even when suffering the severest pangs of 
hunger. The scent which the Fox leaves behind him 
being exceeding strong, he appears sensible of that cir- 
cumstance, and uses every artifice to bewilder his pursuers 
and throw them out of their track. He generally takes 
advantage of the wind, and often crosses rivers, swims 
down small streams or runs along the top of a wall, in 
order to interrupt the continuity of the scent, and puzzle 
the dogs. This timid and prudential character, however, 
completely disappears in the female when she has young 
ones to nurse and defend. Maternal instinct, which is 
forcibly felt by all species of animals, and effaces for a 
time their natural propensities, is peculiarly striking in the 
Fox. There is no sentiment so universal in its nature and 
so wholly disinterested as this; none in which personal 
danger is so completely unheeded and disregarded. A 
mother never hesitates an instant in facing the most appal- 
ling danger, or enduring the utmost privations, risking 
every thing, even life itself, for the preservation of her 
infant offspring. She that at other times was timid and 
gentle, now becomes bold, fierce, and resolute; unshaken 
by all that is trying, undeterred by all that is menacing. 
Thus the female Fox watches with unceasing care over her 
young, assiduously providing for all their wants, and ex- 
hibiting a fearlessness wholly different from her usual dis- 
position. Goldsmith relates a remarkable instance of this 
parental affection, which he says occurred near Chelmsford, 
in England. “ A she Fox that had, as it would seem, but 
one cub, was unkennelled by a gentleman’s hounds and 
hotly pursued. The poor animal, braving every danger, 
rather than leave her cub to be worried by the dogs, took 
it up in her mouth and ran with it in this way for some 
miles. At last, taking her way through a farmer’s yard, 
she was assaulted by a mastiff, and at length obliged to drop 
her cub.” 
The Fox goes with young about three months, and the 
litter is composed of from three to eight. The cubs, like 
puppies, are covered with hair, and are born blind. They 
remain in the burrow about three or four months, and soon 
after abandon their parents; at two years of age their 
growth is completed. 
As the vicinity of the Fox is productive of mischief and 
destruction, and as its cunning and sagacity augment its 
resources against danger, its chase has always afforded a 
subject of amusement and occupation. Many crowned 
heads have been passionately devoted to this sport. Among 
others, Louis XIII. of France, gave it the preference over 
all others, and brought to perfection the employment of 
the hound, instead of the terrier, which had heretofore been 
constantly used for this purpose. This invigorating and 
healthful exercise is pursued with great ardour in some 
parts of our country, particularly in the southern States. 
From Custis’s Recollections of Washington, it appears that 
previous to 1787, he was a keen Fox hunter; this bold and 
animating sjjort being well suited to his temperament, and 
his fondness for equestrian feats. His habit was to hunt 
three times a week; as is well known, Washington was a 
skilful and fearless rider, and ridiculed the idea of being 
unhorsed, provided the animal kept on his legs, he 
always followed the hounds, through all difficulties; was 
invariably in at the death, yielding to no man the honor of 
the brush. 
* Charlevoix Travels, i. 207. 
