thing frequently noticed in the conduct of an old fox with
young is that she never troubles the poultry of the farms nearest her
den. She will forage for miles in every direction; will harass the
chickens of distant farms till scarcely a handful remains of those
that wander into the woods, or sleep in the open yards; yet she will
pass by and through nearer farms without turning aside to hunt, except
for mice and frogs; and, even when hungry, will note a flock of
chickens within sight of her den, and leave them undisturbed. She
seems to know perfectly that a few missing chickens will lead to a
search; that boys' eyes will speedily find her den, and boys' hands
dig eagerly for a litter of young foxes.

Last summer I found a den, beautifully hidden, within a few hundred
yards of an old farmhouse. The farmer assured me he had never missed a
chicken; he had no idea that there was a fox within miles of his large
flock. Three miles away was another farmer who frequently sat up
nights, and set his boys to watching afternoons, to shoot a fox that,
early and late, had taken nearly thirty young chickens. Driven to
exasperation at last, he borrowed a hound from a hunter; and the dog
ran the trail straight to the den I had discovered.

Curiously enough, the cubs, for whose peaceful bringing up the mother
so cunningly provides, do not imitate her caution. They begin their
hunting by lying in ambush about the nearest farm; the first stray
chicken they see is game. Once they begin to plunder in this way, and
feed full on their own hunting, parental authority is gone; the mother
deserts the den immediately, leading the cubs far away. But some of
them go back, contrary to all advice, and pay the penalty. She knows
now that sooner or later some cub will be caught stealing chickens in
broad daylight, and be chased by dogs. The foolish youngster takes to
earth, instead of trusting to his legs; so the long-concealed den is
discovered and dug open at last.

When an old fox, foraging for her young some night, discovers by her
keen nose that a flock of hens has been straying near the woods, she
goes next day and hides herself there, lying motionless for hours at a
stretch in a clump of dead grass or berry bushes, till the flock comes
near enough for a rush. Then she hurls herself among them, and in the
confusion seizes one by the neck, throws it by a quick twist across
her shoulders, and is gone before the stupid hens find out what it is
all