ances of his near escape. He learned his lesson thoroughly, and
never afterwards did the smell of iron, or the slightest taint of the
trapper's hand, escape him. He even walked around molehills; they
reminded him too much of the soft soil about the trap. And, for the same
reason, he avoided treading on freshly excavated earth before the holes
of a rabbit warren.

The succeeding years of Vulp's eventful life were in many respects
similar to the year that began with his courtship of the sleek young
vixen in the white wilderness of the winter fields. His fear of men and
hounds increased, while his cunning became greater with every passing
day. He never slept on a straight trail, but cast about, returned on the
line of his scent, and leaped aside, before retiring to sleep in his
retreat amid the bracken. Often he heard the wild, ominous cry of the
huntsman, "Eloa-in-hoick, hoick--hoick, cover--hoick!" as the hounds
dashed into the furze; and the loud "Tally-ho!" as he himself, or,
perchance, a less fortunate neighbour, broke into sight before the
loud-tongued pack. And more than once, from a safe distance, he heard
the awful "Whoop!" that proclaimed the death of one of his kindred.

As the years wore on, Vulp gradually wandered far from his old home. The
countryside, for twenty or thirty miles around, was known as intimately
to him as a little garden, nestling between sunny fruit-tree walls, is
known to the cottager who makes it the object of his daily care. His
ears were torn by thorns and fighting; his russet coat was streaked with
grey along the spine. At last, when age demanded ease and comparative
safety from the long, hard chase over hill and dale, he retired to a
rocky fastness on the wild west coast, and there, far above the leaping
waves and dashing spray, lived his free, lonely life. And there he died.

[Illustration: "HE RETIRED TO A ROCKY FASTNESS ON THE WILD WEST COAST."]

It was a bright, hot day in July. Lying among the boulders on the shore,
I watched through a field-glass the antics of some birds that wheeled
and soared above the cliffs, when, to my surprise, I saw Vulp crawl
slowly along a shelf of rock above a deep, dark cavern. His movements,
somehow, appeared unnatural. Instead of crouching, with legs bent under
him and brush curled gracefully about his "pads," to bask, his eyelids
half-closed, in the sun, he lay on his side. Guided by a companion, who,
with waving hand, directed my course as I climbe