REDPAD THE FOX 13 
before moonrise. Vix stretched herself and whined, 
and Redpad raised his muzzle, which was curled 
round into his brush. The burrow was pitch dark, 
but he felt his mother glide past him, and he rose 
and followed her. Outside they paused and sniffed 
the west wind appreciatively the scent was good. 
Vix turned down the hill, picking her way 
daintily through the fern and brambles, and Redpad 
followed. Fox language must consist of signs of 
the ears and whiskers, for it is noiseless. Neverthe- 
less she conveyed to him whither they were bound. 
They trotted through Knockdane, scaled the high 
boundary wall, and gained the open country, which 
lay placid under the twilight of moonrise. 
They hunted far afield that night. Two hours 
before daybreak they crossed the Killeen road 
and came to a wide brook. The moon was high in 
the sky, and every tree and bulrush on the bank 
was plainly visible. The sleepy cattle, chewing 
the cud under a willow, heaved themselves up 
with a grunt and herded together as the foxes 
loped past. They trotted up-wind in silence some 
hundred yards apart, ears alert to catch the least 
sound, brushes drooping. Then Vix suddenly put 
down her nose and broke into a canter, and as 
Redpad galloped after her, the warm wind bore the 
scent of hare to his nostrils. 
