812 
FOREST AND STREAM 
fox trails, and lastly that the dogs were itching 
to be after some old red robber of the coverts. 
He asked me when I would come. I dashed off 
a letter saying that I would be there in a week. 
I mailed this letter and tackled the last one- 
third of the work that held me in check. When 
I finished I was rather nervous and dazed, but 
a weight fell from my shoulders. I was 
ready to go. 
One bright winter morning the outgoing train 
made a stop at a certain little station to the 
northward. True to his word there was Daniel, 
waiting for me. When he saw me coming a 
smile split his face, that took in both his ears. 
There, also were the dogs, Nero, Tom and Fido, 
and it did not overly surprise me when their 
tails were wagged and they smelled inquisitively 
at me when I came up. 
"Dan,” I said, grasping that brown hand. "I 
am sure glad to see you. To open up Wood 
Hollow cabin again shall be to me one of the 
happiest moments of my life. It’s still there 
I suppose.” 
“It couldn’t blow off,” assured Daniel, survey¬ 
ing me with the perfect friendship that had been 
made firm long ago. “It's there all right. I got 
(he snow cleared away some, and I fired up in 
the stove to get the frost out of (he corners. I 
have (he sled here and Brown’s horse. You 
got some stuff to take out, haven’t you.” 
And I had and was thankful at the thought¬ 
fulness of my friend to bring along this great 
help. We landed in the provisions, and other 
paraphernalia, and found a cosy place for my 
inseparable typewriter. I had brought this along 
with a view of yielding amusement to Daniel 
since I had had enough of it for a time. We 
were soon on the road out, with the crisp old 
winter wind biting the flush of life into the 
cheeks. The beauties and fascinations of winter 
are many; but no more pleasing to the sense 
can anything be than to glide over the snow, 
enscounced in a sled, and blankets all around, 
while the tinkling bells play many a melodious 
ditty upon the silenced atmosphere. It is no 
time for doleful, glum faces, but rather makes 
welcome eternally (he winning smile, no matter 
how cold be the day, or tempestuous the sweep¬ 
ing wind. Winter! Prime old winter, hoary 
and with icicles in his drooping beard; with the 
snow heaped everywhere in unstinted abundance; 
who can look upon winter from within or with¬ 
out, without a thrill of wonderment when are wit¬ 
nessed all the pleasantries and keen-edged joys 
that are now ushered to the fore. It is not then 
the winter of dire ruin and desolation; it is not 
then the horrible cold, and the biting, tenacious 
frost; it is not winter, the leveller of the flowers 
but rather winter (hat bears summer some¬ 
where deep in his inmost heart. Bright then 
and cheerful, as we see it, and as we listen to 
the roaring winds who shall also interpret in 
their presence some unmistakable happinesses of 
our planetary existence. There are no leaden 
skies of sorrow; (here are no melancholy whist¬ 
ling winds; there are no grave miseries with the 
•winter—if we know it from the comfortable, 
philosophical viewpoints of life; if then our 
bodies have their demanded food and clothes. 
I found Daniel more than ever conversant; 
there were so many things we had to talk about, 
and how enthusiastically we did this I leave 
you to figure, or conjure out for yourself. 
Daniel told me that he had rounded in twenty 
muskrats, and that he had brought in two finely 
colored mink, both of them from his bait house 
at that. This was the best of news, and I 
amply congratulated him upon his initial success, 
and added that I hoped in the days to come 
he would have double and triple his present 
luck. Hard earned furs—and all at the expense 
of the little creatures of wood and stream. But 
any old dog mink brought up in the neighbor¬ 
hood of Civilization that is not equal to the 
keenest brain of Man! show me that Mink and 
we will reconsider the proposition of eternal 
fitness versus the inequality of intelligence. 
I found Wood Hollow Cabin tucked away 
there among the trees just as comfortable and 
homelike as ever, and there was a thin trail of 
smoke rising out of the chimney which nosed 
itself through the snow that had thrown a regal 
Domestic and Domesticated. 
scarf over it, making it look in every way, shape 
and manner as though it had been taken from 
the middle of a book depicting fairies, their 
environments and their doings. Daniel, during 
my absence, had kept the chickadees pretty well 
supplied with food and suet, that especial brand 
they liked so well. Upon our arrival they could 
be seen at work, some singing a merry strain, 
others working away with (he utmost diligence 
upon the morsels at their command; and Life 
seemed more than ever good to live. I noted 
also the white-breasted nuthatches, the downy 
and hairy woodpeckers, all of that brave com¬ 
pany that stay with us the winter long and 
sweeten the path of Life. 
We soon had (he cabin in order and (he fires 
going, and I added a number of new books to 
the shelves that I felt would make many a 
cosy hour slip by while without it was hard and 
cold. Daniel drove away and I was left to 
myself to take in the fullness of this new win¬ 
try charm. Daniel had promised to come that 
evening and to bring his dogs; in the morning 
we would make our initial try for old reynard, 
and I was itching for an opportunity to come 
in contact with (his new detail in the world 
of outdoor sport. Vulpes fulvus has some 
magnetism about his presence that arouses an 
insistent curiosity and speculation; and a desire 
to hear, more than ever, the sound of the dogs 
upon his trail. There is something oif the primi¬ 
tive in every man. Concealed deep down in 
the 'heart of even the most uninterested lies a pri¬ 
mal instinct called deliberately to the fore when 
the dogs begin their blood-tingling music, sounding 
as it does like a call from out the past when the 
cavemen took the trail of the giant mammoth. 
There is a quickening of the blood in the veins; 
there is a feeling that seems to take one off 
his feet; and an insatiable desire to see the race 
run to the goal. Given a shrewd and cunning 
fox, and they are not so few and far between 
at that—and one has something upon which to 
lavish his God-granted intelligence. In and out 
among the snow-curtained byways will lead that 
trail. There will be skilled backtracking; there 
will be jumps from a tree, say, to some spot at 
least ten feet from the tree, and the dogs will 
'be all in a fuss and excitement before the trail 
is picked again—but in the meantime the fox 
is away off somewhere swinging toward safety, 
perhaps, and a convenient den. 
Daniel returned to the cabin as he had said, 
prompt to the hour. That night we arranged things 
further and prepared for the morrow. Morrow 
arrived in due time and we laid plans for the 
chase to be. Daniel told me he had one spotted 
out; and that he believed the trail would be 
fresh. In fact he related of Farmer Brown being 
in danger of losing chickens, for the fox had 
been around though had attempted no depreda¬ 
tions. This was welcome news, for where a fox 
goes once, on a mission of this sort, there he 
will come again. Chicken is too much of a 
delicacy for a fox to resist; and they rarely 
do resist if by some hook or crook they can 
manage to realize their craving desires. The 
dogs were at hand. They had slept by the 
hearth that night with a feel of perfect, unbroken 
contentment about them; now (hey were ready, 
and their eyes were flashing; there was about 
them a nervousness that spoke only to plainly 
of their desire to be away to test their speed 
with reynard. 
“I know just about all the runways and come- 
out places the fox use,” said Daniel, as we went 
upon our way through (he snow. “If we strike 
a trail that’s fresh we will get the dogs started 
and then we will take up our places, see; and 
of course we shoot the fox if we see 'him.” 
“Good enough,” was my response; I had 
brought with me, to Wood Hollow, beside the 
shotgun, the 25-20, as neat a small gun as there 
is made, and all I desired just then was to have 
it lined up against a living target. “But what 
we want to strike is a fresh trail, one made 
last night.” 
“Don’t fear, we’ll find it. That old red fox 
that fooled me last year is the same one I got 
spotted here; and he was around here just re¬ 
cently. Watch and see if I am not right.” 
We crossed overland and in due time struck 
the road to Brown’s; and later made Brown’s 
place and found (he gentleman at home and very 
glad to see me. Followed some conversation 
and then we made known our mission. We were 
told that a fox had been around some time 
before but it was doubtful whether recently. But 
Daniel and I were not so easy to put away 
and started out, questing for new trails. As 
luck would have it Daniel found just this trail, 
and some examination of it led to our decision 
that it had been made the night before. Add to 
this the suspicious eagerness of the understand¬ 
ing dogs and there was no apparent mistaking 
it. The dogs were liberated, for Daniel had 
