No litter of kittens ever played with more abandon than will a litter of small foxes. They will chase each other in the wildest sort of a game of tag, which usually ends in a rough and tumble, with a sham fight at the end. These sham fights, when the young foxes become half grown, are often quite serious scraps. Nor does this liking for play die out when the fox attains his full growth. I have on several occasions seen full grown foxes playing tag, or a sort of chasing game, upon the meadows, at about sunrise. First one would chase and the other run. Then they would face each other for several seconds, but soon they were off again.
Down on the last shoulder of Redcoat's mountain, was a pasture. It was mostly open, although there were some trees in it farther up the mountainside. It was in this pasture that Farmer Holcome kept those stupid animals, his cattle. It was Redcoat who thought of them as stupid. Redcoat had often spied upon the farmer when he came to look after the cattle. On these oc-
