When school was called to order the
following morning not one was missing. You see,
with the exception of Jimmy Skunk and Prickly Porky,
there was not one in whose life Reddy Fox did not have
a most important part. Even Happy Jack the Gray
Squirrel and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, tree folk
though they were, had many times narrowly missed furnishing
Reddy with a dinner. As for Johnny Chuck and
Peter Rabbit and Jumper the Hare and Striped Chipmunk
and Danny Meadow Mouse and Whitefoot the Wood Mouse,
there were few hours of day or night when they did
not have Reddy in mind, knowing that to forget him
even for a few minutes might mean the end of them.
Just imagine the feelings of these
little people when, just as they had comfortably seated
themselves for the morning lesson, Reddy himself stepped
out from behind a tree. Never before was a school
so quickly broken up. In the winking of an eye
Old Mother Nature was alone, save for Reddy Fox, Jimmy
Skunk, and in the trees Prickly Porky the Porcupine
and Happy Jack and Chatterer.
Reddy Fox looked as if he felt uncomfortable.
“I didn’t mean to break up your school,”
said he to Old Mother Nature. “I wouldn’t
have thought of coming if you hadn’t sent for
me.”
Old Mother Nature smiled. “I
didn’t tell any one that I was going to send
for you, Reddy,” said she, “for I was afraid
that if I did no one would come this morning.
I promised them a surprise, but it is clear that
no one guessed what that surprise was to be.
Go over by that old stump near the Lone Little Path
and sit there, Reddy.”
Then Old Mother Nature called each
of the little people by name, commanding each to return
at once. She spoke sternly, very sternly indeed.
One by one they appeared from all sorts of hiding
places, glancing fearfully towards Reddy Fox, yet
not daring to disobey Old Mother Nature.
When at last all were crowded about
her as closely as they could get, Old Mother Nature
spoke and this time her voice was soft. “I
am ashamed of you,” said she. “Truly
I am ashamed of you. How could you think that
I would allow any harm to come to you? Reddy
Fox is here because I sent for him, but he is going
to sit right where he is until I tell him he can go,
and not one of you will be harmed by him. To
begin with, I am going to tell you one or two facts
about Reddy, and then I am going to find out just how
much you have learned about him yourselves.
“It may seem queer to you that
Reddy Fox belongs to the same family as Bowser the
Hound, but it is true. Both are members of the
Dog family and thus are quite closely related.
Howler the Wolf and Old Man Coyote are also members
of the family, so all are cousins. Look closely
at Reddy and you will see at once that he looks very
much like a small Dog with a beautiful red coat, white
waistcoat, black feet and bushy tail. Now, Peter,
you probably know as much about Reddy as any one here.
At least you should. Tell us what you have
learned in your efforts to keep out of his clutches.”
Peter scratched a long ear thoughtfully
and glanced sideways at Reddy Fox. “I
certainly ought to know something about him,”
he began. “He was the very first person
my mother warned me to watch for, because she said
he was especially fond of young Rabbits and was the
slyest, smartest and most to be feared of all my enemies.
Since then I have found out that she knew just what
she was talking about.” Johnny Chuck,
Danny Meadow Mouse and Whitefoot the Wood Mouse nodded
as if they quite agreed. Then Peter continued,
“Reddy lives chiefly by hunting, and in his
turn he is hunted, so he needs to have sharp wits.
When he isn’t hunting me he is hunting Danny
Meadow Mouse or Whitefoot or Striped Chipmunk or Mrs.
Grouse, or Bob White, or is trying to steal one of
Farmer Brown’s Chickens, or is catching Frogs
along the edge of the Smiling Pool, or grasshoppers
out in the Green Meadows. So far as I can make
out, anything Reddy can catch furnishes him with food.
I guess he doesn’t eat anything but such things
as these.”
“Your guess is wrong, Peter,”
spoke up Reddy Fox, who had been listening with a
grin on his crafty face. “I am rather fond
of certain kinds of fruits. You didn’t
know that, did you, Peter?”
“No, I didn’t,”
replied Peter. “I’m glad to know
it. I think it is dreadful to live entirely
by killing others.”
“You might add,” remarked
Reddy, “that I like a meal of fish occasionally,
and eggs are always welcome. I am not particular
what I eat so long as I can get my stomach full.”
“Reddy Fox hunts with ears,
eyes and nose,” continued Peter. “Many
a time I’ve watched him listening for the squeak
of Danny Meadow Mouse or watching for the grass to
move and show where Danny was hiding; and many a time
he has found my scent with his wonderful nose and
followed me just as Bowser the Hound follows him.
I guess there isn’t much going on that Reddy’s
eyes, ears and nose don’t tell him. But
it is Reddy’s quick wits that the rest of us
fear most. We never know what new trick he will
try. Lots of enemies are easy to fool, but Reddy
isn’t one of them. Sometimes I think he
knows more about me than I know about myself.
I guess it is just pure luck that he hasn’t
caught me with some of those smart tricks of his.
“Reddy hunts both day and night,
but I think he prefers night. I guess it all
depends on how hungry he is. More than once I’ve
seen him bringing home a Chicken, but I am told that
he is smart enough not to steal Chickens near his
home, but always to go some distance to get them.
Also I’ve been told that he is too clever to
go to the same Chicken yard two nights in succession.
So far as I know, he isn’t afraid of any one
except a hunter with a terrible gun. He doesn’t
seem to mind being chased by Bowser the Hound at all.”
“I don’t,” spoke
up Reddy. “I rather enjoy it. It
gives me good exercise. Any time I can’t
fool Bowser by breaking my trail so he can’t
find it again, I deserve to be caught. I am not
even so terribly afraid of a hunter with a gun.
You see, usually I can guess what a hunter will do
better than he can what I will do.”
Old Mother Nature nodded. “That
sounds like boasting,” said she, “but
it isn’t. Reddy Fox is one of the few animals
who has succeeded in holding his own against man,
and he has done it simply by using his wits.
There is no other animal as large as Reddy Fox who
has succeeded as he has in living close to the homes
of men. It is simply because he has made the
most of the senses I have given him. He has
learned to use his eyes, ears and nose at all times
and to understand and make the most of the information
they bring him. Reddy has always been hunted
by man, and it is this very thing which has so sharpened
his wits. It is seldom that he is guilty of making
the same mistake twice. All of you little people
fear Reddy, and I suspect some of you hate him.
But always remember that he never kills for the love
of killing, and only when he must have food.
There would be something sadly missing in the Green
Forest and on the Green Meadows were there no Reddy
Fox. Reddy, where do you and Mrs. Reddy make
your home? And how do you raise your babies?”
“This year our home is up in
the Old Pasture,” replied Reddy. “We
have the nicest kind of a house dug in the ground underneath
a big rock. It has only one entrance, but this
is because there is no need of any other. No
one could possibly dig us out there. Last year
our home was on the Green Meadows and there were three
doorways to that. The year before we dug our
house in a gravelly bank just within the edge of the
Green Forest. The babies are born in a comfortable
bedroom deep underground. Sometimes we have a
storeroom in addition to the bedroom; there Mrs. Reddy
and I can keep food when there is more than can be
eaten at one meal. When the babies are first
born in the spring and Mrs. Reddy cannot leave them,
I take food to her. When the youngsters are
big enough to use their sharp little teeth, we take
turns hunting food for them. Usually we hunt
separately, but sometimes we hunt together. You
know often two can do what one cannot. If Bowser
the Hound happens to find the trail of Mrs. Reddy
when there are babies at home, she leads him far away
from our home. Then I join her, and take her
place so that she can slip away and go back to the
babies. Bowser never knows the difference.
“Our children are well trained
if I do say it. We teach them how to hunt, how
to fool their enemies, and all the tricks we have learned.
No one has a better training than a young Fox.”
“Here is a conundrum for you
little folks,” said Old Mother Nature.
“When is a Red Fox not a Red Fox?” Everybody
blinked. Most of them looked as if they thought
Old Mother Nature must be joking. But suddenly
Chatterer the Red Squirrel, whose wits are naturally
quick, remembered how Old Mother Nature had told them
that there were black Gray Squirrels. “When
he is some other color,” cried Chatterer.
“That’s the answer,”
said Old Mother Nature. “Once in a while
a pair of Red Foxes will have a baby who hasn’t
a red hair on him. He will be all black, with
perhaps just the tip of his tail white. Or his
fur will be all black just tipped with white.
Then he is called a Black Fox or Silver Fox.
He is still a Red Fox, yet there is nothing red about
him. Sometimes the fur is only partly marked
with black and then he is called a Cross Fox.
A great many people have supposed that the Black
or Silver Fox and the Cross Fox were distinct kinds.
They are not. They are simply Red Foxes with
different coats. The fur of the Silver Fox is
considered by man to be one of the choicest of all
furs and tremendous prices are paid for it.
This means, of course, that a young Fox whose coat
is black will need to be very smart indeed if he would
live to old age, for once he has been seen by man
he will be hunted unceasingly.”
Reddy Fox had been listening intently
and now Mother Nature noticed a worried look on his
face. “What is it, Reddy?” said
she. “You look anxious.”
“I am anxious,” said he.
“What you have just said has worried me.
You see, one of my cubs at home is all black.
Now that I have learned that his fur is so valuable,
Mrs. Reddy and I will have to take special pains to
teach him all we know.”
“I want you all to know that
Reddy Fox and Mrs. Reddy mate for life,” said
Old Mother Nature. “Reddy is the best of
fathers and the best of mates.”
“There’s one thing I do
envy Reddy,” spoke up Peter Rabbit, “and
that is that big tail of his. It is a wonderful
tail. I wish I had one like it.”
How everybody laughed as they tried
to picture Peter Rabbit with a big tail like that
of Reddy Fox. “I am afraid you wouldn’t
get far if you had to carry that around,” said
Old Mother Nature. “Even Reddy finds it
rather a burden in wet weather when it becomes heavy
with water. That is one reason you do not find
him abroad much when it is raining or in winter when
the snow is soft and wet. Reddy Fox is at home
all over the northern half of this country, and everywhere
he is the same sly, clever fellow whom you all know
so well.
“In the South and some parts
of the East and West, Reddy has a cousin of about
his own size whose coat is gray with red on the sides
of his neck, ears and across his breast. The
under part of his body is reddish, his throat and
the middle of his breast are white. He is called
the Gray Fox. He prefers the Green Forest to
the open country, for he is not nearly as smart as
his Cousin Reddy. He is, if anything, a better
runner, but his wits are slower and he cannot so well
hold his own against man. Instead of making his
home in a hole in the ground, he usually chooses a
hollow tree-trunk or hollow log. The babies
are born in a nest of leaves in the bottom of a hollow
tree. In some parts of the West this Fox is called
the Tree Fox, because often he climbs up in low trees.
“The Gray Fox of the South is
not the only cousin of Reddy’s,” continued
Old Mother Nature. “In certain parts of
the Great West, on the plains, lives one of the smallest
of Reddy’s cousins, called the Kit Fox or Swift.
He is no larger than Black Pussy, Farmer Brown’s
Cat, and gets his name of Swift from his great speed
in running. He is a prairie animal and lives
in burrows in the ground as most prairie animals do.
His back is of a grayish color, while his sides are
yellowish red. Beneath he is white. The
upper side of his tail is yellowish-gray, below it
is yellowish, and the tip is black. In general
appearance he is more like the Gray Fox than Reddy.
He lacks the quick wit of Reddy Fox and is easily
trapped.
“In the hot, dry regions of
the Southwest, where the Kangaroo Rats and Pocket
Mice live, is another cousin, closely related to the
Kit Fox. This is called the Desert Fox.
Like most of the little people who live on the desert,
he is seldom seen by day. He is very swift of
foot. He digs a burrow with several entrances
and his food consists largely of Pocket Mice, Kangaroo
Rats, Ground squirrels and such other small animals
as are found in that part of the country. Like
his cousin, the Kit Fox, he is not especially quick-witted.
Neither the Kit Fox nor the Desert Fox are considered
very valuable for their coats, and so are not hunted
and trapped as much as are Reddy Fox and his two cousins
of the Great North, the Arctic Fox and the Blue Fox.
“The Arctic, or White Fox, lives
in the Far North, in the land of snow and ice.
He is a little fellow, bigger than the Kit Fox, but
only about two thirds the size of Reddy Fox, and very
beautiful. Way up in the Far North his entire
coat is snowy white the year round. The fur
is long, very thick and soft. His tail is very
large and handsome. When he lives a little farther
south, he changes his coat in the summer to one of
a bluish-brown. But just as soon as winter approaches,
he resumes his white coat. The young are born
in a burrow in the ground, if the parents happen to
be living far enough south for the ground to be free
of snow. In the Far North, their home is a burrow
in a snow bank, and there the babies are born.
The white coats of the Arctic Foxes, who live in
a world of white, are of great help to them when hunting,
or when trying to escape from enemies. It is
difficult to see them against their white surroundings.
In summer their food consists very largely of ducks
and other wild fowl which nest in great numbers in
the Far North. In the winter they hunt for Lemmings,
Arctic Hares and a cousin of Mrs. Grouse called the
Ptarmigan, who lives up there. They pick the
bones left by Polar Bears and Wolves. Getting
a living in winter is not easy, and so the Arctic
Fox is a great traveler.
“The Blue Fox is really only
a colored White Fox, just as the Black Fox is a black
Red Fox, and his habits are, of course, just the same
as the habits of the White Fox. There are some
islands in the Far North, called the Pribilof Islands,
and on them live many Blue Foxes. Both the White
and the Blue Foxes are much hunted for their coats,
which are considered very valuable by man. Certainly
they are very beautiful. While these cousins
of Reddy’s are clever hunters they do not begin
to be as quick-witted as Reddy, and so are much more
easily trapped.
“Now I think this will do for
Reddy Fox and his relatives. Reddy is going
to stay right here with me, until the rest of you have
had a chance to get home. After that you will
have to watch out for yourselves as usual. Just
remember that Reddy has become the quick-witted person
he is because he has been so much hunted. If
you are as smart as Reddy, you will understand that
the more he hunts you, the quicker-witted you also
will become. To-morrow we will take up Reddy’s
big cousins, the Wolves.”