rect course for the hills the fox now began
to quarter the ground very much as a bird dog does in quest of quail. In
short runs from side to side he advanced deeper into the swamp,
investigating every bush and clump of trees in his course, pausing now
and then with head raised and ears cocked forward to listen, then
running on again. Gradually it dawned on Sparrer that Reynard had
crossed the dam with a definite purpose. He had come over to the swamp
with the same object in view that had brought Sparrer there--to hunt
rabbits.
The sharp contrast between the snow and the black coat of the fox made
it possible for Sparrer to follow the animal's movements at a distance
which under ordinary conditions would have been impossible. He had
turned and was working up wind, continually stopping to carefully test
the light air in the hope of scenting a hare. His course was now
directly away from Sparrer toward the lower end of the swamp. The boy
could get only an occasional glimpse of him and presently lost him
altogether. Once more bitter disappointment rankled in his heart. What
should he do now? Should he remain where he was, or should he move on?
How he wished that he knew more about hunting and the ways of animals,
black foxes in particular. What would Pat do were he in his place? Would
he give up? Somehow he couldn't picture Pat as giving up without further
effort to capture so great a prize.
"He'd do somethin', but what?" Sparrer scowled in labored thought. The
fox was somewhere between him and the cabin. Should he turn back on the
chance that he would jump the animal somewhere on the way and get a
running shot? "No chance," he decided, remembering the clack of his
shoes in walking. "He'd hear me a mile." He slipped his shoes off and
rose to his feet. The crust bore him, for he was a light weight. Then he
took a comprehensive survey of his surroundings. There was one other
chance. The fox might return. He would soon reach the lower edge of the
swamp and failing to make a kill might decide to try his luck down wind
in the main body of the swamp.
The more Sparrer thought of this the more likely it seemed. Perhaps
unconsciously he was allowing hope to father the idea. Anyway it raised
his spirits wonderfully. In such an event he must be ready. Once more he
looked the ground over carefully. His present position was on the outer
edge of the swamp. He quickly appreciated that if he were farther in his
chances would be double
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