He carried the prize home, trap and all, over his shoulder. At his
whoop of exultation the whole family came out to admire and
congratulate. At last he took the trap from the fox's leg, and
stretched him out on the doorstep to gloat over the treasure and
stroke the glossy fur to his heart's content. His attention was taken
away for a moment; then he had a dazed vision of a flying black
animal that seemed to perch an instant on the log fence and vanish
among the spruces.
Poor Johnnie! There were tears in his eyes when he told me about it,
three years afterwards.
* * * * *
These are but the beginning of fox-ways. I have not spoken of his
occasional tree climbing; nor of his grasshopper hunting; nor of his
planning to catch three quails at once when he finds a whole covey
gathered into a dinner-plate circle, tails in, heads out, asleep on
the ground; nor of some perfectly astonishing things he does when hard
pressed by dogs. But these are enough to begin the study and still
leave plenty of things to find out for one's self. Reynard is rarely
seen, even in places where he abounds; we know almost nothing of his
private life; and there are undoubtedly many of his most interesting
ways yet to be discovered. He has somehow acquired a bad name,
especially among farmers; but, on the whole, there is scarcely a wild
thing in the woods that better repays one for the long hours spent in
catching a glimpse of him.
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