REDPAD THE FOX 
sloping shoulders of Kilmanagh, and to fox eyes 
the hill was light. Here his quest ended, for not 
six yards from him sat the Beloved. Her coat 
was as red as that of a winter squirrel, her brush 
was as thick as a pine sapling, and she was as 
desirable as a sunny evening in May. Therefore 
because she satisfied Redpad's longing he called 
her the Beloved on the spot, and indeed he never 
knew her by any other name. He came forward 
cautiously, for he doubted what his reception might 
be, leaping this way and that and dropping on his 
forepads like a cub inviting a game. But the 
Beloved had also been very solitary. She too had 
yelped the story of her loneliness to the moon. She 
trotted forward and touched Redpad caressingly, and 
then playfully rolled him over with her muzzle. 
They romped together for a few minutes, and either 
gave and received sundry love nips, and then they 
trotted down the hill in company. 
The sheep-dog was silent, but a snipe rushed 
up crying ' kek-a-kek.' Rabbits were playing 
among the furze, and there Redpad and his Beloved 
hunted together until the moon began to sink, 
and some wet clouds from the west rose over her 
face, bringing warm rain. 
It still wanted some two hours till dawn when 
