Under a rock lay a great brown, sharp-nosed creature, with a white tip to
her brush, and round her four or five little cubs, the funniest fellows
you ever saw. It was Mrs. Vixen, a mother fox, and her children.
The mother lay on her back, rolling about, and stretching out her legs
and head and tail in the bright sunshine. The cubs jumped over her, and
ran around her, and nibbled her paws, and lugged her about by the tail,
and she enjoyed it mightily.
But one selfish little fellow put an end to all the fun. He stole away
from the rest to a dead crow close by, and dragged it off to hide it,
though it was nearly as big as himself. His brothers caught him at it and
set off after him in full cry. Before they knew it they were seen by a
man. They left the dead crow and ran back to tell their mother.
Up jumped Mrs. Vixen. She caught the smallest one up in her mouth, and
the rest toddled after her. Soon she had them safe at home in a dark
opening in the rocks. But the fun was over for that day.
—From KINGSLEY