t first it sounded like some small creature in
distress. That was the very sort of prey the Catamount enjoyed. He
began, very cautiously, to make his way across the ravine. When he was
half-way up the opposite side, the sound came again. This time he heard
not one voice, but several--and the notes were not those of creatures in
distress. He was plainly puzzled. He had reached the sunlight now, and
partly because of that, partly because every step brought him nearer to
possible danger, he went with even greater caution than before. All at
once the meaning of the commotion became clear to him. He heard; he
smelt; he saw!

All this time, Dusty Star had gone on steadily climbing till he had
caught up, as it were, with the very middle of the afternoon. But for
all he knew, he mounted alone, and never once got a glimpse of that
other stealthy climber who stole up like a furry shadow of the evening
itself into the golden places of the afternoon. And the Catamount was
equally unaware of the neighbourhood of the boy.

Suddenly Dusty Star came upon one of the surprises which Carboona keeps
in its most secret spots. In an open space between a mass of thickets he
found a family of fox-cubs playing in the sun. Five, fat, funny little
bodies, tumbled and sprawled and tussled and rolled in a frenzied frolic
which, if you looked closely, was really a furious battle over the
leg-bone of a grouse. Sometimes they bit the bone; sometimes each other.
It really didn't seem to matter, so long as somebody bit _something_. It
was the triumphant glory of being able to bite! The fight raged first to
one side, then to the other. There were little yelps and squeals, and
miniature growls, like fairy thunder. Once the tide of battle rolled
almost to Dusty Star's feet. The excitement was so great, and Dusty Star
so still, that the cubs saw nothing and smelt nothing.

But for all their seeming unconsciousness, their little ears were keenly
alive to sound. For when the mother fox suddenly gave the sharp warning
bark which is the signal of approaching danger, four out of the five
cubs scurried instantly back to the den.

The fifth cub, either because he was more stupid than the others, or
more daring, stayed where he was, sitting up on his little haunches and
moving his head from side to side as if to assure himself there was no
need to hurry home when there was such an unexpected chance of having
the grouse-bone all to himself.

And Dusty Star was