TRIUMPH
It was in a dusty road winding between stone walls on either hand and
stiff rows of Lombardy poplars that Red Fox now found himself. For
perhaps twenty yards he ran on, down the middle of the road, where he
knew the dry, hard earth would not hold his scent. Then the jog-trot and
jangle of leisurely team approaching caught his ear, and he hid himself
in a clump of tall woods to let it go by. His tongue was hanging far out.
He was all but spent. And he heard the voices of the pack in the woods
just across the pasture.
The approaching team, as it came around a turn of the road, proved to be
a big, lumbering farm-wagon, drawn by two horses, with the driver
half-asleep on the seat. The roomy body of the wagon was filled with
boxes and a barrel, a winnowing machine, several bags of feed, a bundle
of dry salt codfish, and a bale of some kind of coarse cloth. The sight
reminded Red Fox of the things which had accompanied his crate on the
journey from the settlement to the station. In that wagon he had been
safe. Why not so in this one? There was no time for indecision. The
voices of the pack were already loud in the open pasture. One noiseless
leap as the wagon passed,—and he had climbed in softly over the
tail-board, and curled himself down out of sight under the winnowing
machine, behind a bag of feed.
Not two minutes later the pack arrived, and came tumbling over the wall
into the lane. Fifty yards away in his hiding-place, Red Fox heard the
sudden change in their voices as they found themselves at fault. Around
and around, up and down, and over the wall on the other side, they
quested for the lost trail, whimpering in bewildered disappointment. Here
was the trail, faint but unmistakable, right in the middle of the road.
And here it ended, as if Red Fox had grown wings and sprung into the air.
The pack, being very wise in the wiles of foxes, now scattered, some
running in one direction, and some in the other, along the tops of both
walls, and also parallel with the farther one. In this way they made sure
of ultimately picking up the trail,—and failing in this they were
overwhelmed with confusion. Presently the field came hurrying up, all
excitement. Some praised the craft of the quarry, some cursed the
stupidity of the pack; and the babble and wonder grew. But Red Fox,
meanwhile, curled up small beneath the winnowing machine, was being
carried farther and farther away from the fate that had so nearly
clutched him; and at last the baleful voices died upon his ears. Once
more his destiny and his wits had worked together to save him.
[Illustration: “CAME TUMBLING OVER THE WALL INTO THE LANE.”]
For hours the big wagon rumbled and jolted on, in no haste; and all the
time Red Fox lay quite still, recovering his strength. He wanted to be
carried as far as possible from that skilled pack and those terrible
scarlet hunters. At last, however, the wagon stopped, and the driver
heavily dismounted. Hearing him begin to unhitch the horses,—a process
which he had often watched in the settlement from a hiding-place in some
overlooking field,—Red Fox peered warily forth. He found the wagon
standing in the middle of a spacious, well-kept barn-yard. About twenty
paces away, however, was a garden thick with shrubbery and tall,
half-withered plants,—and beyond the garden he saw a patch of woods.
There was covert, within his easy reach. Noiselessly he dropped from the
cart-tail. The driver, a sandy-bearded, big fellow, with a wide straw
hat, happening to turn his head at the moment, saw what passenger he had
been carrying, and rapped out a sharp oath of astonishment. In the next
instant Red Fox had disappeared.
Darting through the currant-bushes and tall hollyhock clumps of the
garden, he presently gained the trees, which proved to be but a narrow
belt of woodland. Beyond the woodland was an open pasture field, full of
hillocks and knolls, and dotted with red cattle feeding peacefully. Very
near, however, and straight ahead across the pasture, he saw the
mountains. They were rough with rocky shoulders, and dark with pine,—very
dark and safe-looking; and there, said his heart, was where he must be.
But between them and the pasture lay a scattered village, full of
dangers.
[Illustration: “HE CAME OUT UPON A JUTTING CAPE OF ROCK.”]
Very cautiously he skirted the field, fearing to show himself in the
open. One of the red cattle caught sight of him, however, and stared at
him resentfully, till all the rest turned and followed him, with lowered
horns and hostile mutterings. This attention was anything but what Red
Fox wanted, so presently, in disgust, he shrank back into the woods, and
so out-flanked the pasture. Then he came to a deep, ragged ravine, filled
with a tangle of young trees and weeds and wild vines. Immediately beyond
was the first house of the village. So here he hid himself, and lay quiet
until well past nightfall.
At last, when the village had grown quiet and most of its windows had
been darkened, he ventured forth, bold but wary. Reaching a highway
leading straight through the village, in the direction which he wished to
go, he followed it, keeping in the middle of the track, where his scent
would not lie. Once a cur, catching the musky odour on the still night
air, rushed out upon him, barking wildly. In silent bitterness he
punished his assailant so sharply that the latter fled back to his
doorstep, yelping. But all the dogs of the village were now giving
tongue; so Red Fox darted indignantly up a lane, through a garden, and
out across the back fields, still keeping his face toward those dark
shapes of mountain towering against the western sky. In a very few
minutes the clamour of the village curs was left behind. At last he
crossed a noisy, shallow brook; and then the ground began to rise. Wild
underbrush was all about him, and ancient trees; and soon he was climbing
among rocks more harsh and hugely tumbled than those of his native
Ringwaak. Once only he stopped—having heard some tiny squeaks among the
tree-roots—long enough to catch a woodmouse, which eased his long hunger.
Then he pressed on, ever climbing; till, in the first gray-saffron
transparency of dawn, he came out upon a jutting cape of rock, and found
himself in a wilderness to his heart’s desire, a rugged turbulence of
hills and ravines where the pack and the scarlet hunters could not come.
THE END.
[Illustration: ]
Transcriber’s Notes
--Retained publisher information from the printed copy (the electronic
edition is in the public domain in the country of publication).
--Corrected some obvious typos.
--In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.