OTHER WOODSFOLK
The mother led the way towards the nest under the fallen tree, but was
stopped in the old path by the sound of a man's footsteps. Quickly she
slipped into the bushes. The pup was not sure what to do. However, when
he saw Farmer Ben's friend, John, stalking down the path, he scrambled
out of the way in a hurry.
"Well, if there isn't Ben's little sharp-nosed fox!" muttered the man in
surprise. "Ben's fox! Ha, ha. I should like to see Ben catch him now!"
He saw how wonderfully the wild little animal melted away among the
shadows, then he stalked off with many a shake of the head as he thought
of his chickens at home.
Everyone he met after that had to be told the good joke about the den
and Ben's sharp-nosed fox, so the story spread, and "Ben's fox" became
for a time the special joy of all the village gossips, who liked Ben
none too well. Those whom he had angered with sly bargains in the past,
said that he himself was like a cunning fox--a _black_ one; so it was a
fox against a fox. "Black Ben against Red Ben," someone of doubtful wit
expressed it. This amused a number of the boys, and at once gave the
little red fox a nickname. Through all his later career he was known as
Red Ben.
When people good naturedly teased Ben Slown, who never could enjoy a
joke on himself, he grew more and more surly. He soon saw that, until he
caught the foxes, he would always be plagued, especially when someone
lost a chicken. So he began to scheme and set more traps. He had always
hated foxes, but never more bitterly than now.
With little suspicion of this, the mother was teaching Red Ben the
tricks that every wise fox must know. Night after night they hunted mice
together, or lay in wait for fat muskrats in the swamp, or chased big
Bun or the other cottontail rabbits.
Often they played in the moonlight and wrestled and rolled by the hour
in a sandy hillock near the Ridge. Both thoroughly enjoyed this. The
usual game was a mock fight. The mother would rush at the pup and roll
him head over heels, then hold him to the ground while he tried with all
his might to break away. Sometimes she would pretend to bite a foot or a
leg, or to tear an ear, he meanwhile striving to protect himself.
At first she was very careful not to hurt him, but as he grew stronger
he also gained a wonderful quickness which often surprised the mother,
whose own motions, although almost like lightning, were soon no match
for his. Then the games became wildly exciting. The pup could escape the
old fox's rushes, and himself nip and worry and trip and get away, and
then roll over and over with her, in a lightning battle to get the
throat-hold which ended every game.
All this was splendid training for Red Ben. He could practice all kinds
of fighting tricks and learn how to deal with an animal larger and
stronger than himself. Had his little brothers lived to be his
playmates, he might never have had this experience, which meant so much
to him later on.
His cleverness and growing strength made him a wonderful companion for
the old fox. She would go nowhere without him, and began to rely more
and more on his help in their hunts.
It happened that wild strawberries were especially good that year, and
so were eaten occasionally by the foxes, who picked up those the village
children did not find. After them the cherries ripened, and the big
mulberry tree at the corner of Ben Slown's fence began to drop delicious
fruit. Fat robins, starlings and black birds picked their share, but at
night, especially after a rain heavy enough to knock down a good supply,
the Oak Ridge animals fairly swarmed around the mulberry tree.
The shy red foxes usually reached it after the last sign of the sun had
left the sky, so it was not strange that on one evening they found there
ahead of them one of the deer from Cranberry Swamp with her two spotted
fawns. The watchful doe scented them, gave one quick snort and led the
fawns away in great bounds, for fear they were in danger. All three
leaped over the field fence as if it had been a bush in the path.
The rush of the deer to cover frightened two rabbits just as the foxes
came cautiously out of the wood. Away dashed Red Ben to head them off,
but too late. When he returned, a huge coon hurried to the tree and
began to swallow mulberries as fast as he could pick them up. The mother
fox, however, took no notice of old Ring Tail, and he was too busy to
worry over the foxes just then.
Up in the tree, Red Ben heard an occasional squeak, and soon spied a
little brown squirrel which was quite the prettiest creature he had ever
seen. While he watched, it suddenly sprang into the air with feet
outstretched and sailed to a fence post near the wood; there it alighted
almost as softly as a leaf, looking so much like a clinging piece of
bark that the pup could hardly believe it was anything alive. This was
Flying Squirrel, one of the very nicest of the woodsfolk.
While he was busy with the juicy mulberries the pup did not keep a very
good watch behind him, and so was surprised suddenly to find White
Stripe, the skunk, nosing around close by. He, too, liked the
mulberries, it seemed. The fox kept one eye on him, but found he
attended strictly to his own business.
A moment later a furry gray creature, nearly his own size, came
stealthily along the fence. The pup was worried and ready to run at the
slightest sign from his mother, but she kept right on nosing about, and
old Possum joined the feeding. He, however, crawled up the big tree,
where he wandered from limb to limb, picking off the ripest fruit and
often by mistake knocking down some to the creatures below.
[Illustration: "Flying Squirrel, one of the very nicest of the
woodsfolk"]
It was a weird assemblage that the moon looked down upon that night. Two
small coons came from the swamp with their mother for a hurried look
around; White Stripe's mate, a wonderful white skunk, also appeared, and
a brown screech owl sat on a nearby pine limb to watch and whinny
softly, so that his mate, who was looking for mice farther along the
fence, might always know where to find him.
By this time Red Ben knew most of the wood creatures, and they knew him.
Ringtail, Possum, White Stripe and Screech Owl were hunters; like
himself they preferred meat to grass, fruit, roots and nuts. Although
each had a scent entirely his own, each also had the "hunter" smell,
quite different from the meadow mice, who lived on seeds and grass, or
from Red Squirrel, who ate nuts, mushrooms and buds. Quite different too
from the deer and from Bun, the big rabbit who lived near one of the
farm gardens and enjoyed parsnips, string beans and other vegetables,
whenever the clover was scarce.
The woodsfolk could be divided into two big families--the first one made
up of those who hunt and the other of those who are hunted. The hunters
get used to seeing each other and to running across each other's trails
at night. As long as there is food enough for all, they rarely quarrel;
but jealousy and suspicion keep them from being real friends. Red Ben
did not think of playing with the young coons; nor would young skunks
have interested him at all as playmates.
The four-footed hunters all had teeth very much like those of a dog or a
cat, while the little animals that they hunted had gnawing teeth, like
those of the mouse. Even the woodchuck and the muskrat had gnawing
teeth; they liked to eat grass and tender roots. Screech Owl and other
hunters among the birds, from big Bald Eagle all the way down to little
Sparrow Hawk, had hooked beaks and long sharp claws or talons, with
which to catch their prey.