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[Illustration]


MASTER REYNARD

The History of a Fox

From Animal Autobiographies by J. C. Tregarthen

Revised by

JANE FIELDING







New York
A. L. Chatterton Co.

Copyright, 1913
A. L. Chatterton Co.




MASTER REYNARD


The earth where I was born was far down the face of a steep cliff
and opened on a sloping shelf of turf, from the edge of which the
undercliff fell sheer to the sea. The entrance we used most was
slightly above the level of the springy sward and led by a small
tunnel to a roomy chamber where daylight never penetrated.

There on the bare dry ground the vixen laid us--my two sisters and me.
If I was like the baby cubs I have since seen, I was born blind, my
muzzle was blunt and rounded, and my coat as black as a crow, the only
white about me being a few hairs in the tag of my tiny brush. Even at
the time when I first remember what I was like my fur was still a very
dark color and bore no resemblance to the russet hue of a full-grown
fox.

This was a few weeks after my eyes were opened, when, after awaking
from our first sleep, we were in the habit of sunning ourselves just
inside the mouth of the earth. It was there, with my muzzle resting on
the vixen's flank, that I got my earliest glimpse of the world. The
turf was then almost hidden by pink flowers, over the heads of which
I could see, between two of the pinnacles that bordered the ledge,
the sea breaking on a reef where the cormorants used to gather at low
water and stand with folded or outstretched wings until the rising
tide drove them to the big white rock beyond.

So few things moved within our field of vision that every creature we
saw afforded us the keenest interest. Sometimes during days together
nothing stirred but the stems of the thrift and the surf about the
reef, for the sky was cloudless when the hot weather set in. Now and
again a red-legged crow came and perched on one of the pinnacles,
crying "Daw, daw!" until its mate joined it, and then, all too soon,
they took wing and flew away; at times a hawk or a peregrine would
glide by and break the monotony of our life.

Our narrow green was dotted by five boulders, and one of these we
could see from the earth. On this our most frequent visitor alighted.
It was an old raven, who presently dropped to the ground, walked up
to the remains of any fowl or rabbit lying near the heap of sandy soil
which my mother had scratched out when making the earth, and pecked,
pecked, pecked, until only the bones were left. Then, uttering his
curious "Cawpse, cawpse!" he would hop along the ground, flap his
big black wings, and pass out of sight. I feel sure that he saw us
watching him, for his eyes often turned our way.

One afternoon, to our astonishment, a half-grown rabbit came lopping
along, and stopped to nibble the turf at a spot barely a good spring
from the vixen. She, usually very drowsy, half opened her eyes and
turned her face towards the intruder, but she did not rise to her
feet. We youngsters were beside ourselves with excitement, but were
not allowed to scramble over her side to drive away this audacious
trespasser on our private domain. This, I think, was owing to my
mother's great anxiety on our account.

I have never known a vixen so determined that her cubs should lie
hidden by day; but then we were her first litter. She would constantly
warn us against venturing out whilst the sun was up. So particular
was she that we were not permitted to expose as much as our muzzles
outside the earth, though birds and rabbits moved about there freely.
We could not understand the restriction, and I fear that we thought it
unkind of her to confine us to a cramped, stuffy hole the summer day
through, when we longed to be gambolling about the sward or basking
in those warm corners under the boulders which retained some of their
heat even after the sun went down.

It is true that I tried hard to get my liberty. Time after time, when
I thought she had dozed off, I endeavored to squeeze between her and
the low roof. It was of no use, though I used the utmost stealth and
trod as lightly as a feather. Never once did I catch her napping. On
the few occasions when I was on the point of succeeding she seized me
between her velvety lips and put me back in my place between my two
little sisters.

Thus, by the kindest of mothers, I was disciplined in the ways of the
wild creatures, learning, by constant correction and example, that the
world outside the earth is denied to us by day, and is ours to move
and play and seek our prey in only by night.

And how short those nights were! What a weary, weary time it was,
awaiting their approach! How impatiently we watched their slow
advent! how we tingled with delight in every limb on seeing the shadow
of the high boulder creep and creep across the turf until it reached
the pinnacle that had a patch of golden lichen on it! Then, as the sun
sank behind the headland, the nearer sea became sombre, the bright
expanse beyond darkened, and at last the stars would begin to show in
the sky. By this my mother had shaken off her drowsiness, the glow
had come back into her green eyes, and, rising to her feet, she would
leave the earth. If she detected no danger, she would call us to her.
What a moment that was! the pent-up energy of hours of restraint
breaking out in such rompings and runnings after our own brushes as
I have never seen in any other young creatures. Wearying at last of
these antics and of