especially rearward. She then gives a responsive cry, answering to
"All right!" and follows the track of the others. Thus the party
proceed on their march, repeating the same precautions at each
fresh barrier.

When peril approaches, the wary old fox instructs his young ones to
escape with turns and doublings on their path, while he himself
will stand still on some brow or knoll, where he can both see and
be seen. Having thus drawn attention to himself, he will take to
flight in a different direction. Occasionally, while the young
family are disporting themselves near their home, if peril
approach, the parents utter a quick, peculiar cry, commanding the
young ones to hurry to earth; knowing that, in case of pursuit,
they have neither strength nor speed to secure their escape. They
themselves will then take to flight, and seek some distant place of
security.

The instruction they afford their young is varied. Sometimes the
parents toss bones into the air for the young foxes to catch. If
the little one fails to seize it before it falls to the ground, the
parent will snap at him in reproof. If he catches it cleverly, papa
growls his approval, and tosses it up again. This sport continues
for a considerable time.


As I have said, no other animals so carefully educate their young
in the way they should go, as does the fox. He is a good husband,
an excellent father, capable of friendship, and a very intelligent
member of society; but all the while, it must be confessed, an
incorrigible rogue and thief.