CHAPTER XVIII.

FOX SHOOTING.

The fox, although the cleverest animal sought after by New England hunters and trappers, says L. W. Beardsley, of Connecticut, seems to have one decided drawback, that of sight, which frequently costs him his life. Sly and clever with very acute nose and ear, he appears to be unable to tell a man from a tree or stone by sight alone, provided the person remains motionless, but the slightest motion is detected and sends him dusting for cover. The above I have proved to my entire satisfaction time and again when hunting this animal, a few instances of which I will quote below.

While walking along the tracks of the Berkshire Division R. R., which were bounded on the west by a steep hill with a fence three boards high, placed horizontally about eight inches apart skirting the track, I noticed beneath the lower board the legs of a fox moving toward me some seventy-five yards away. I stopped between the rails, half raising my 38-40 Stevens, telescope mounted, and waited for a favorable shot. When some thirty yards away the fox crawled under the fence and trotted down the bank immediately in front of me, where I stood in plain view. He stopped in the middle of the track and looked towards me unconcernedly for several seconds, then swung his head down the tracks in the direction of a train which was rapidly approaching from the south. This was my chance. I brought the cross hairs to bear just back of his foreleg and pulled. With one mighty bound in the air he fell back across the rails without a struggle, and I had to do some hustling to pull him out of the way before the train was upon us.

Again I was sitting on a stone, my back against a wall in an open pasture lot waiting in hopes a fox might use the runway which passed close by. I had been waiting quietly since 4 A. M. It was now 6:30, and I had nearly given up hopes of seeing a fox that morning and was getting perhaps rather careless about watching, when something rustled in the grass, and raising my eyes without moving my head, I saw a red fox in the act of passing in front of me not more than ten or fifteen feet away in the open lot.

I remained motionless until he was well past, then raising my gun slowly and carefully I fired at the back of his head as he was trotting leisurely away, all unconscious of my presence, and perhaps only saw twenty-five yards off. The fox never knew what had killed him, and I often wonder if that load of shot surprised him more than his sudden appearance surprised me, as I sat dozing on the rock. I used on this occasion a 10 ga. full choke Winchester, level action repeater Model 1901, loaded with 4 1/2 drs. black powder and 1 1/4 oz. B. shot.

Late one afternoon several years ago while out hunting grey squirrel at Swamp Mortar Rock with Wm. E. Howes I, who was hunting about 200 yards south of "Bill," heard a fox barking just over a rise of ground, and cautiously approaching saw two foxes digging at the roots of a decayed stump. Just as I was getting within effective gun shot range I stepped on a twig which snapped with my weight. The sound started the animals. Neither saw me, however, as I had remained perfectly motionless. The moment the twig broke one took a course due east, the other quartered toward me disappearing in the thick laurels. There was a small opening in these bushes opposite me, and with cocked gun trained on this spot I waited the appearance of the fox.

In a moment he was in the clearing, and as he was stepping over a log about 30 yards away I gave him my right barrel and tumbled him over, and as he endeavored to get up I put on the finishing touches with my left. I was using a Baker full choke 28 in. 12 ga. loaded with 3 1/4 drs. black powder with 1 1/8 oz. No. 7 shot.

While looking for woodchuck signs early one spring on my way to pasture, I was following a old logging road when I saw a fox crossing in front of me and disappear in the ferns, going toward a high ledge west of the road. I stood still and waited. When the fox reached the lower part of the ledge he stopped about 75 or 80 yards from me and sat down. When his head was turned away I would sneak cautiously a few feet nearer, always standing motionless when he looked my way, and thus reduced the distance between us to about 50 yards.

At this point just as I was about to shoot the fox, who was partially concealed with leaves and ferns, moved some 10 yards up the ledge and was getting uneasy, although he had not seen me, and the wind was unfavorable for closer approach. I waited and he climbed nearly to the top of the ledge and laid down on a flat rock in the sun. With the utmost caution I slowly crawled back to the road and approached his foxship from the west, keeping some large rocks between us until I had approached within 35 yards. He was sitting up, breast toward me as I cautiously peeped over a rock, but his head was turned away, so I stepped out into plain view, leveling my gun as I did so. Slowly the fox turned his head and faced me, but he appeared to see nothing unusual in the silent figure clad in the worn gray hunting coat, brown overalls and soft brown hat.

I could see him twitch his ears and blink his eyes lazily in the glare of the setting sun. Fully a minute I stood admiring the picture. It seemed a pity to kill this clever fellow I had so easily outwitted. My eye dropped a little lower, the brass bead trembled on his breast, and through the faint haze of smokeless powder I saw the old quail thief kicking and struggling in the edge of the ledge. A moment later he toppled over his carcass, bounding from rock to rock in its 50 foot descent. I was using a 12 ga. full choke 30 in. Stevens, smokeless and B shot.

Another time I was sitting in the woods for grey squirrel early in October. It was about 5:30 A. M. and just getting light. I heard the tread of an animal behind me and the rustle of leaves, which ceased a few feet away. By rolling my eyes and slightly moving my head I could see the outlines of a fox standing behind me, hardly ten feet away. Cautiously I attempted to move the muzzle of my gun in his direction, but he detected me immediately and disappeared midst the laurels like a flash.

Although he had stood two or three minutes within a few feet of me before I attempted to turn evidently trying to figure out what I was, not until I had made a movement did he realize he was so near his old enemy, "man," which goes to show that Mr. Fox, with every other sense alert, is like many other of his wild brethren, unable to tell man from an inanimate by mere sight alone, when he remains motionless.