Read Ebook: Red Ben the Fox of Oak Ridge by Lippincott Joseph Wharton

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Ebook has 346 lines and 29103 words, and 7 pages

First of all he threw several shovels of earth over them, and pushed it in solidly so that they were buried tight. After that they could not move until Ben's big hand picked them out by the scruff of the neck, one at a time.

The first poor, scared little fellow glared and kicked, but was somehow stuffed into the empty wheat sack. Two more followed him in the same way. Then the exultant farmer felt all around in the earth for more, and found none. He dug a little and felt around again. His hand slipped along the flank of the last pup, the inquisitive one that had crawled into a far corner of the den.

Suspicious at once, Ben poked a little farther. Had the little fox growled or moved an inch, or even trembled, he would have been discovered. But the loose, cold earth was mixed with his fur and his body was as rigid as the side of the burrow. Ben's fingers at last moved on and the danger was past.

"Have you really got them all?" the other man asked.

"Every one!" growled Ben, getting up and giving the bag a shake. "Fill up the hole a bit, John, so no old cow can break her leg in it."

Some minutes later the men reached the fields with their precious bag. Here Ben passed it over for his friend to carry awhile, and the latter took his first peep inside.

"Why, there are only three here!" he exclaimed. "I saw at least four when the old vixen carried that hen of yours to the den. You've certainly left one. Good thing we buried him. Back we'll have to go."

Meanwhile, however, there was frantic work going on at the den. The mother, who during the digging had been anxiously running to and fro in cover of the bushes, crept cautiously to the ruined home as soon as the men had left. She found a great ugly hole, with fresh dirt on all sides, but no sign of the happy pups who used to welcome her.

Around and around the lonely creature wandered, hunting with all her mother's love. At last she jumped into the partly filled hole and sniffed and dug a little and then sniffed some more and listened. Something there suggested to her to dig deeper. So she set to work in earnest, tearing up the loose dirt with her forepaws and pulling it back in a heap behind her.

Every little while she jumped out to look around, then whisked back to her work, until at last she heard the buried pup sniffing and burrowing in his prison. Now she dug as she had never dug before, spurred by noisy activity of the little fox, who knew perfectly well that his mother was trying to reach him.

Rip, rip, rip, went her claws through the last strip of earth, and out popped the head of the pup, only to be seized and pulled almost off his body in his mother's haste to get him out. She had heard the men coming.

The heavy pup was almost more than the old fox could carry; but somehow she dragged him out of the hole and leaped for the bushes, pulling him along by the loose skin at the back of his neck. The sudden shouts from the surprised men only served to spur her on, not, as they hoped, to make her drop her burden.

She knew the farmer had a gun. Bang! She was not hurt! The bullet only tore up the ground behind her. Bang! Another shot whizzed past. And then her jaws slipped on the pup's neck and she dropped him.

The little fox rolled over, caught his balance and began to run entirely on his own hook. His legs were a bit wabbly, he did not know just where to go, but how he did work to get away! Into the bushes he went and on to more bushes; and then, right before him, he found his mother loping along, a safe, loving guide. His little heart beat easier then, but on he went, ever following that beautiful furry tail with the pure white tip. On and on and on, the two ran into the heart of Cranberry Swamp and to safety.

The pup went to sleep beside his mother in a bed of leaves under a fallen tree. With her there, he did not feel cold nor miss the other pups so much. He wondered where they were and would not have been surprised had they joined him at any moment; but his mother knew they were gone forever. Her joy at having this one little fellow left to her was almost pitiful. All through the long night she cuddled and tenderly licked him.

Just as the sky began to brighten for the day, she slipped out to get a drink and something to eat. A little distance from the fallen tree was a path. Here she made her first stop, to examine the ground and find out what creatures had passed that way during the night. Moving slowly, with her keen nose to the earth, she suddenly became aware of something following her. Around she whirled with teeth bared for defense, only to find herself looking into the mild, half ashamed eyes of the pup who, too lonely to stay in the bed, had noiselessly crept after her.

He hung his head now and looked wistfully at his mother until she licked his nose to show she forgave him and would let him come with her. In this way he started on his first big hunt.

A rabbit had travelled the path shortly before them, so the mother moved with caution. Whenever she sniffed at the fresh tracks, the pup, who followed close at her heels, sniffed too and understood perfectly well that a rabbit was near. When she at last sighted Bunny and crouched, the pup copied her movement exactly, and when she leaped he sprang too, all atremble with excitement. The old rabbit jumped quickly enough to get away, but the pup saw him and enjoyed all the thrills of his first chase.

Farther on they met a black and white skunk ambling home to his den. The pup, seeing him far ahead, crouched in readiness for attack. Here was a beautiful creature, no larger than the rabbit, actually coming towards him as though it wanted to be caught for breakfast. It never occurred to him that the skunk was a privileged character in the woods, whom foxes as well as smaller and larger animals had learned to let pass with plenty of room between. The mother, however, knew all about skunks and saw that trouble was coming. She rushed at the pup, nipped his ear and fairly shouldered him out of the way of the other animal.

The skunk saw at once that all the disturbance was only over a young fox who had not sense enough to know that every path belonged to him. Therefore, he passed grandly, without even slackening his pace or changing his direction one inch.

The pup, sniffing along the trail behind him, caught a disagreeable, musky smell which told, far better than his eyes could, that this animal was to be left alone. He followed him very carefully at what seemed a safe distance, until he became indignant and whirled half around with feathery tail straight in the air. That was warning enough to satisfy even the pup's inquisitive mind, so he turned back with a bound and found his mother sitting in the path amusedly watching him. She saw that the little fox had already learned caution--the most important lesson of the woods.

A few yards farther they circled a marshy place where spring frogs were singing merrily; "peep, peep--peep," they sang, over and over again. There seemed to be one piping from the bank, almost under the pup's nose, but he could not find it, nor could he find any of the others, for they were in the water with only their small noses and eyes stuck out behind the blades of grass and twigs.

The old fox examined the mud for tracks, satisfied herself that those she found were made by a coon and not by man or dog, then turned to look for the pup. He was in the act of springing on something he had found in the grass. Up went his front paws, and then down he came right on top of a mouse which had been feeding on winter dried cranberries clinging to vines near the water. The pup had smelled it and found its hiding place all by himself. Now he tussled with the furry little creature until it had squeaked its last squeak.

The mother let him eat it all, then led away to Goose Creek. Here the incautious pup surprised a great blue heron in the act of catching a minnow. With a mighty flapping of big wings the scared bird started over the water, his long legs tucked up under his tail, his neck doubled back, so that it seemed only half its real length. When he got well away, his angry challenge--"u-r-g-h-h-, u-r-g-h, urgh, urgh"--could be heard all over Cranberry Swamp, warning his mate and all the other birds and animals, too, that there was danger lurking near.

A red squirrel ran out on a limb nearby to see what had disturbed the old fisherman. Two crows circled cautiously in that direction, a pair of wood ducks sprang from a pool below and winged their way up the creek towards a safer feeding ground; the frogs stopped peeping, and the lone kingfisher, sitting on a stub in the stream, enjoying the first rays of the morning sun, darted away with a rattling scream.

It was a wonderful lesson to the pup. It taught him that he must be careful not to disturb any creature that can spread alarm and excite the whole wood. It awoke in him the true fox nature which prompts the wisest of them to travel with all the noiseless stealth of a crafty Indian. He found out then what he saw more and more clearly the longer he lived, that there is a bond joining together the woods folk into one great family, for mutual protection.

He was the one feared, the outcast, this time; but at another time it might be a man with a gun, or a big hound, whom he would flee from, when warned, with the same dread as Blue Heron.

Now, he slunk back of some bushes and waited there while the noise and excitement died down.

Red Squirrel, however, kept his bright eyes on him, and fussed and scolded, without a stop. To him the branches were just like so many paths, over which he could run like the wind from one tree to another, until he reached the little hole in the hollow cedar he lived in, or dashed to another safe little hole under the roots of a magnolia, not far away. Therefore, when he was off the ground, why should he fear a fox, especially a young one like this? "Bur-r-r-r-r-r-r," he fairly shouted as he danced and fumed first on one limb, then on one nearer, until so close overhead that the fox could see the four sharp teeth with which he gnawed nuts so easily.

There was something, however, which Red Squirrel had not thought about. With a young fox, or with any young animal, there is usually a mother. The annoying little nut eater had one glimpse of a red streak flinging itself at him from behind, then in a fright he lost his footing on the low limb, fell into the bushes, and had to run with all his might to get up the next tree without being punished. Very quiet after that, he let the foxes trot off unmolested.

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.

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.

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.

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.

At first Red Ben saw no other foxes, and rarely came across the tracks of any, for Ben Slown's traps did their work well. There was, however, one cunning old fellow who paid a visit to the Ridge whenever there was especially good hunting weather. With him, on one never to be forgotten night in late August, Red Ben had an adventure.

He and his mother had gone to Ben Slown's fields to hunt the little short tailed meadow mice which were so plentiful there that their paths had been gnawed through the grass in every direction. They had caught two, and were once more entering Oak Ridge wood, when Red Ben noticed that his mother hesitated to go farther and kept anxiously looking into the shadows. He heard a deer snort; then, in the half darkness of the wood, he caught the glint of two eyes.

This new creature was certainly no coon or possum; the eyes were higher above the ground than either of these would hold its head. Quickly it moved into the moonlight and showed itself to be a fox, not unlike the mother in form, but gray in color, with reddish legs and a tail entirely lacking the beautiful roundness of the red fox's.

Instinctively the pup stood as straight and tall as he could, while along his back the hair fairly tingled with dislike. He saw his mother try to slip away, and then crouch suddenly with ears back and warning whine. He saw Gray Fox trot up, walk around her, and then bare his teeth in a snarl that sent off the soft-eyed mother in a hurry. How his heart pounded then, and how the fury welled up in his breast!

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