FOXES, I think I may say, but for the sport they provide for the hunter, would have been exterminated in our country long ago. He is about the most destructive of all our wild animals, making terrible ravages on the poultry yard, and is a sworn foe to rabbits, hares, and other small creatures. Great efforts are made by the lovers of this sport to keep up a supply for their exciting diversion. For this, however, the farmer has to pay dearly. Spite of every precaution, the fox will run off with your lambs, ducks, geese, and poultry-dainties on which he chiefly lives. If hard pushed by hunger, Master Reynard will take himself to field-mice, frogs, weasels, and even insects. Such as live near the sea-coast, for want of other food, will devour crabs, shrimps, or shell-fish. What makes the Fox so great an enemy to the farmer is the ugly fact that he is not content with destroying sufficient to satisfy his hunger. If once he gets the chance, he will kill every living thing in the poultry-yard, and before he begins to eat, will carry off the whole and bury what he is unable to devour. In France and Italy the Fox is exceedingly destructive to the vine-yards, by feeding on the grapes of which he is very fond. My young readers will remember the fable of the Fox and the Grapes as an illustration of this.
Of all animals the Fox has the most significant eye, by which he expresses every passion of love, fear, and hatred. As you all know, the great characteristic of the Fox is his cunning: "As cunning as a Fox" is a daily proverb. The female generally has from five to eight cubs. The entire care of these is cast on herself. Her nest is made generally at the bottom of a deep burrow, and formed of dry leaves, moss, and hay. She manifests the greatest solicitude for her young, employing every artifice to keep them concealed, and if attacked, defends them with undaunted courage. Should she suspect that her home is discovered, she will seek what she conceives a more secure retreat, and carry them thither one by one. When attacked she will run for an hour with one in her mouth, and never drop it till she becomes breathless from the chase, Sometimes she has been known to deposit her cubs at a bottom of a hollow tree, ascending and descending twenty feet to get to them.
Foxes when young are exceedingly playful, and like kittens are fond of catching their own tails. If captured very early, and treated with great kindness, the Fox may show some regard for the person who feeds it, but never seems to lose its suspicious character. It has never been known to manifest the attachment or gratitude of the dog. It is ever shy of strangers, and will often repay a kindly approach with a snappish bite. But it is quite impossible to tame a full grown Fox. If taken captive it is very impatient of restraint, makes every effort to obtain its freedom, and if unable to succeed, refuses food, becomes spiritless, dejected, and dies. Foxes, like the dog, have a good many intonations of the voice: they can yelp, bark, and scream, and they have a peculiar murmur when pleased. Foxes have wonderfully keen senses, especially those of hearing and scenting. Their limbs are exceedingly pliant, and they are very swift on foot. Without doubt the brushy tail of the Fox is one of his most marked features; it is so flexible that he can wrap it round his nose, which it often does in cold weather. He is a very solitary animal, nearly always dwelling alone, and, as I have said, always leaves the charge of the cubs to the mother. He displays great intelligence in escaping detection; never trusts to his courage until perfectly exhausted, but then will turn round and defend himself to the last gasp.
During the day the Fox keeps as snug as possible, rarely being seen out, except it be, on some warm day, when he will seek a retired spot to bask and sleep in the sun. It is when the shades of evening come creeping on, this destructive fellow steals forth with motionless step to prowl for prey. With his acute senses of hearing and smell he listens and sniffs the wind. Alive to every sound and scent, his eyes gleam as he creeps along in a crouching attitude. Stealthily he surprises the rabbit gambolling near his burrow; the hare, with all her quickness, cannot escape him, and the poultry on their perch constantly fall a prey to his cunning.
The speed of the Fox is very great, and his powers of endurance such that he has been known to run before the hounds for fifty miles on a stretch. He has remarkable craft in eluding a pack of hounds, and an old Fox, who has had many a tough run, is more than a match for the sagacity of twenty or thirty dogs.
They have a great love of liberty, and have been known to bite off their own legs when caught in a trap, rather than be taken. On one occasion a fox was observed tenaciously to stick to the wood, instead of taking, as is their wont, to the open country; he dogged from point to point, leaping over first one dog and then another, performing remarkable evolutions, and for a long time eluded his enemies. At last he had to give in, and poor Reynard was killed; but you may judge the surprise of the hunters, who had witnessed all this long-continued agility, when they found he had only three legs!
When hard pressed they neither lose their self-possession nor their courage; they resort to every expedient that cunning can dictate to baffle or elude their pursuers, and if all fails the Fox dies, defending himself to the last.
In some respects the Fox is much like the common dog. His teeth and the general formation of his bones are the same, but his lengthened and sharp pointed muzzle, the round head, the erect and triangular ears, the long body, short limbs, and elongated, thick, and bushy tail are altogether different from those of the dog. There is also a wonderful difference in the construction of their eyes. The dog is undisturbed by the brightest light: it is never oppressive to the dog. With the Fox it is not so. Excessive light is painful to him and he is forced to close the pupils of the eye to such an extent as to render their vision very imperfect during the day. But when night comes he can sally forth in the full possession of his perceptive faculties. Here, then, we have a clear proof that, like the owl, the bat, and some other creatures, the Fox is fitted for his night prowling.