of pawpaw, hazel and wild cherry offer coverts for the shy and
furtive kindred of the forest: goggle-eyed rabbits, restless as
wind-blown leaves; mice, with their intricate system of runways among
the grass roots; slow-moving porcupines, prickly as huge sandburs; and
occasionally a stately buck or savage-eyed Canada lynx.

In such a country, in a cleverly concealed den about a mile from the
Hermit's cabin, Silver Spot was born. A projecting ledge, crowned with
hazel brush, concealed the mouth of the den which looked out upon a
small mossy clearing, sloping warmly toward the rising sun. It was an
ideal location, for, though it lay so near the outposts of civilization,
no human foot had ever trodden the spot until the Hermit discovered it
quite by accident one day while harvesting a store of golden seal, a
root of great value in the drug market.

Drawn by the peace and seclusion of this shadowy, green world, he laid
aside his mattock and wandered to the edge of the hazel thicket.
Thinking the spot a likely one for a fox den, he parted the bushes and,
as noiselessly as one of the forest creatures, crept forward until he
could look into the mossy clearing under the ledge. He had been there
but a moment when out into the sunshine rolled a furry ball which, upon
dissolving, proved to be three sturdy fox cubs. For a moment they sat on
their tails, blinking in the sunlight; then, as if at a signal, they
rose upon their haunches and began a good-natured rough and tumble,
biting and clawing as they rolled over and over on the moss.

All were appealing, as are young animals at play the world over, but to
one the Hermit's eyes turned in admiration again and again. He was
larger than the others, with a snowy white spot on breast and tail. His
movements were quick and sure and, though he still possessed some of
the awkwardness of the kitten, he showed every indication of making a
splendid animal when grown.

[Illustration: A full grown fox stood motionless in the sunlight, a
rabbit hanging limply from her jaws.]

In his study of the wild creatures of the forest the Hermit had learned
a valuable art, that of keeping still. Assuming a comfortable position
with his back against a tree, he let himself blend into his background
of green and brown until even the keen eyes of the forest people were
deceived. A chickadee regarded him inquisitively from a branch over his
head, talking softly to itself the while; a rabbit, hopping by on so