July 29, I9H.] FOREST AND STREAM. 177 
“That a fox is naturally a kind-hearted and 
playful animal is declared by many who have 
closely observed him,” says the Youths’ Com¬ 
panion, and quotes the following from “A 
Shepherd’s Life,” by W. H. Hudson: 
“An instance of the playful spirit of the fox 
with an enemy is related by a gentleman who 
was out with his dog, a fox-terrier, for an eve¬ 
ning walk in some woods near his house. On 
his way back he discovered that a fox was fol¬ 
lowing him at a distance of about forty yards. 
When he stood still, the fox sat down and 
watched the dog. The dog appeared indifferent 
to its presence until his master ordered him to 
go for the fox, whereupon he 
charged him and drove him back 
to the edge of the wood, but at 
that point the fox turned and 
chased the dog back to its mas¬ 
ter, and then once more sat down 
and appeared much at its ease. 
“Again the dog was encouraged 
to go for him, and hunted him 
back again to the wood, and was 
then in turn chased back to its 
master. 
“After several repetitions of 
this performance, the gentleman 
went home, the fox still follow¬ 
ing, and in going in closed the 
gate behind him, leaving the fox 
outside, sitting in the road as if 
waiting for him to come out 
again to have some more fun.” 
In the instance cited above the 
playful fox was undoubtedly a 
solicitous mother whose puppies 
were hidden somewhere along the 
gentleman’s evening walk. “The wolf is a kind 
of wild dog, and the fox is a kind of wolf,” 
writes John Burroughs. * * * “The kinship 
is further shown by the fact that during cer¬ 
tain periods, for the most part in summer, the 
dog cannot be made to attack or even pursue 
the female fox, but will run from her in the 
most shamefaced manner, which he will not do 
in the case of any other animal except a wolf.” 
And further: “A novel spectacle often occurs 
in summer, when the female has young. You 
are rambling on the mountain, accompanied by 
your dog, when you are startled by that wild, 
half-threatening squall, and in a moment per¬ 
ceive your dog with inverted tail, and shame 
and confusion 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.” 
I have seen the female fox approach within 
60 or 70 yards in the open fields, when her 
young were hidden in the nearby woods. When 
I retreated and secreted myself behind a knoll 
she came still nearer. Her pricked ears and 
alert attitude did not so much remind me of a 
fox as of an intelligent and inquisitive dog. 
But it was not curiosity or playfulness that led 
her almost into the power of her enemy. 
Some instances that I recall might suggest 
to the hasty observer a kind of playfulness in 
the fox, or at least such a sense of humor as 
predominates in the human practical joker. 
Two of my neighbor’s boys, while fishing for 
eels at night, had the fright of their lives when 
a female fox in whose domain they had unwit¬ 
tingly trespassed, interrupted their subdued con¬ 
versation with a series of prolonged and threat¬ 
ening squalls. On another occasion a village 
lad, fishing alone in the wildest part of the 
valley, was stricken with terror by a similar out¬ 
cry. He declared afterward that he drew his 
jackknife and prepared to defend himself, but 
the angry animal whose identity at the time 
was unknown to him, kept beyond the circle of 
his light, vexing the night with frightful cries 
as the youthful fisherman fled madly up the 
stream. 
But to see the “playful fox” as described in 
the quotation from Mr. Hudson’s story—or a 
pair of them, for the male will sometimes come 
to the assistance of his mate when danger 
threatens their young—one should take a dog 
and go out for a walk in the woods or wild 
pastures some fine day in April or May. 
One spring morning not many years ago, ac¬ 
companied by two of my boys and my neighbor 
with his mongrel terrier, I started out with the 
intention of discovering the whereabouts of a 
litter of young foxes. On several successive 
mornings I had seen an old fox mousing in one 
of my upland fields and I surmised that her 
little family was not far away. As we ap¬ 
proached the suspected territory the female fox 
appeared in the edge of the woods and charged 
the dog, who turned and retreated toward us. 
Urged by my neighbor, the dog wheeled and 
drove the fox into the woods. We followed, 
searching every likely ledge and bank but with¬ 
out success. 
Assured by the conduct of the fox that her 
young were hidden near, we returned later in 
the day, when the fox again appeared and re¬ 
peated the performance of the morning. Urged 
repeatedly by his master the dog took up the 
chase. The woods rang with the music, dog 
and fox barking and squalling alternately, and 
we followed the chase pell-mell into the first 
opening. We had seen this same little mongrel 
start a fox in winter and run him a crooked 
mile or more over the open fields, but on this 
occasion we anticipated a reversal of the sport 
unless we were on hand to give the dog en¬ 
couragement. 
At the start the fox led the dog by only five 
or six yards, but meanwhile the male fox, at¬ 
tracted by the commotion, appeared on the 
scene and fell in line a short dis¬ 
tance behind the dog. Then en¬ 
sued the most novel and exciting 
chase that it was ever our good 
luck to witness. Either fox was 
more than a match for the dog 
in size and weight and might 
easily have whipped him, but 
theirs was a running game. 
It was a thin woods, only three 
or four acres in extent, with 
many open glades where cattle 
browsed in summer, and our 
party having separated, had an 
excellent opportunity to observe 
the trio as they circled. One of 
the boys had the best position 
of all, as the vulpine troop 
passed in review within a few 
feet of him. Twice or thrice 
the trio bunched, snarling, squall¬ 
ing and barking, but resumed 
the race in a moment. We 
thought that the foxes changed 
places during these melees like schoolboys in 
a game of cross-tag, but we could not be sure, 
owing to the rapidity of their movements. The 
artfulness of the foxes prevailed, in a few 
minutes the chase led out of the woods and the 
dog returned tired and panting, apparently not 
otherwise the worse for this strange encounter. 
The old foxes were not on guard when a 
week later my neighbor discovered their den. 
The dog began to bark excitedly at one of the 
very burrows we had previously examined. 
The refuse of many stolen repasts had by time 
accumulated about the burrow, which alone was 
sufficient to betray them. My neighbor began 
to gather stones to block the opening and thus 
secure the quarry while he went for help to dig 
them out, when the old fox rushed out of the 
burrow and escaped, upsetting the dog in her 
hurried exit. There were five of the young. 
Shortly afterward I saw the bereaved parents 
walking single file along the ridge, a discon¬ 
solate looking pair. 
When we consider the care that most wild 
creatures have for their offspring, the eccentric 
conduct of the fox, as reported by Mr. Hud¬ 
son, and which some have mistaken for play¬ 
fulness, is easily explained. 
Will W. Christman. 
