I have still another story to tell about cunning Reynard. Daylight had
just broke, when a well-known naturalist, gun in hand, wandering in
search of specimens, observed a large fox making his way along the
skirts of a plantation. Reynard looked cautiously over the turf-wall
into the neighbouring field, longing evidently to get hold of some of
the hares feeding in it, well aware that he had little chance of
catching one by dint of running. After examining the different gaps in
the wall, he fixed on one which seemed to be the most frequented, and
laid himself down close to it, in the attitude of a cat watching a
mouse-hole. He next scraped a small hollow in the ground, to form a
kind of screen. Now and then he stopped to listen, or take a cautious
peep into the field. This done, he again laid himself down, and
remained motionless, except when occasionally his eagerness induced him
to reconnoitre the feeding hares.
One by one, as the sun rose, they made their way from the field to the
plantation. Several passed, but he moved not, except to crouch still
closer to the ground. At length two came directly towards him. The
involuntary motion of his ears, though he did not venture to look up,
showed that he was aware of their approach. Like lightning, as they
were leaping through the gap, Reynard was upon them, and catching one,
killed her immediately. He was decamping with his booty, when a
rifle-ball put an end to his career.