CHAPTER VII.--A WIT OUT-WITTED.
Not that Frisky Fox believed greatly in Lop Ear's friendship.
Not after the way the hound had given the alarm at the chicken coop!
But he knew that at any moment he could so far outdistance that doubtfulally that he wasn't in the slightest danger. The ground was firm anddry, and he had all the advantage of his lighter weight and nimblerfeet.
Had there been soft snow on the ground it might have been different. Butthe first frost had not yet ripened the hazel nuts in the woods aroundMt. Olaf.
Once, just to punish him, Frisky turned back and bared his teeth soviciously at Lop Ear that the hound was driven back--to the Hired Man'samazement.
Then Frisky tripped his way down to Rapid River and crossed on the wetbrook stones, leaving no scent for Lop Ear to follow.
When at last the hound stopped short at the river bank, where he lostthe scent, the Hired Man gave it up in disgust, and went back home tohis bed.
And Frisky, the handsome little scoundrel, calmly sought out the drysouth side of a hill which would shelter him from the wind and sleptwith his black legs doubled under him and his white-tipped brush of atail curled comfortably around him to keep out the draft.
Shrewd, cautious, daring, the Red Fox Pup bade fair at this stage of hiscareer to develop the best set of brains in all the North Woods.
Yet there was one at the Valley Farm that could out-wit him.
Frisky was sitting on his haunches a few days later in the midst of thenow deserted hay field, listening for the squeak of a meadow mouse, whensomething made him prick up his ears.
There was something about that squeak that sounded just a wee bitdifferent from any squeak he had ever heard before.
But though Frisky Fox was clever, the Boy at the Valley Farm was moreso. And the Boy sat behind a bush at the farther end of the field, asmotionless as the gray stump that Frisky thought he was. This time thejoke was on the Red Fox Pup, for the squeaks he heard issued from theBoy's pursed lips. It was an excellent imitation.
He tip-toed nearer and nearer the tiny squeaks, while the Boy gazed atthe graceful fellow through his new field glasses.
He was a handsome fellow, was Frisky Fox, with his yellow-red coatshining sleek in the sunlight. And my! How his great plume of a tailfluffed out behind him! His tail was nearly as long as the rest of hisbody put together, and it fluffed out nearly as broadly. Mother Red Foxcertainly had a son to be proud of!
Of a sudden a little breeze shifted around to where it brought the foxyone a faint scent. It told his keen black nose there was something downthere besides the bush.
It wasn't a mouse, either!
"No, sir, that's no field mouse," said Frisky's nose, as the Red Fox Pupcircled to windward of the tiny squeaking sounds.
For Frisky didn't know that the thing the Boy was pointing at him wasonly a pair of field glasses. And it wouldn't have made much differenceeven had he known. Frisky did not like to be watched. He therefore didexactly as he had planned, crossing the field with seeming lack ofinterest in anything save the purple and yellow of asters and golden-rodand the scarlet of woodbine, and the blue of the Indian summer sky, tillhe felt himself out of range.
At the instant of his discovery that it was one of those dangerous humancreatures that sat there like a stump he had cocked his ears sharply andleaped fully two feet into the air in his surprise.
That was the only sign he made, however, of the extreme anxiety that sethis heart to thumping, till he was just on the edge of the woods; thenhe suddenly looked back with one of his thin, husky barks, to know whythe Boy should have tried to fool him.
But afterwards, from the shelter of the barberry vines that fringed theold stone wall, he peered and peeked and wondered about it all as longas the Boy remained.
----