jumped this way and that, clearing high bushes and landing in dense
thickets that tore his fur and hurt him terribly. But the fox followed
him, paying no attention to the briers and thorns.

It was a narrow escape. For a moment Bumper thought his time had come. He
couldn't get back to the hollow tree trunk, and there was no other
hiding-place near that the fox couldn't follow him in.

It certainly would have gone hard with him, and the rest of his adventures
could never have been told, if a couple of blue jays hadn't built a nest
in a tree directly over him. The commotion in the bushes startled the
birds, and with loud, shrill cries they darted down to see what was doing.
The sight of the fox angered them. Foxes robbed birds' nests whenever they
got a chance, and the blue jays knew this. Therefore, a fox in the
neighborhood of their home was not to be tolerated.

They flew down like two blue streaks and landed their sharp bills on the
head and face of Mr. Fox. One stroke came so near to one of his eyes that
he dodged and ducked, and stopped pursuing Bumper long enough to snap at
the birds.

But the blue jays were prepared for this, and they kept well beyond his
reach. As soon as he turned from them to the rabbit again they flew back
to the attack. They punished him unmercifully, pecking at him until he was
so angry that he could hardly see straight.

Meanwhile, of course, Bumper was taking advantage of this interruption. He
was running through the underbrush as fast as he could until he was far
ahead. Right and left he searched for a hole or any kind of an opening he
could crawl in. And there, just ahead of him, appeared what he was looking