how cunning he may be, or how carefully he may guard himself, somewhere or somehow even the most cunning animal may be taken by the most unskilful hunter or trapper.
It happened that Father Fox was out on the great meadows at the end of the mountain hunting mice. He had often hunted there before. It was well away from the country road which skirted the foot of the mountain, but a footpath which the humans sometimes frequented ran close to this meadow where Father Fox was hunting.
It was a very bright moonlight night, and he took a chance hunting then; but the wild creatures always take chances.
Now, it happened that Bud Holcome had been out to a neighbor's and was coming home. By mere accident he had his little twenty-two rifle on his arm and by a mere chance he espied Father Fox who was silhouetted against a dark bush. He was not over a dozen rods away.
Bud did not think he could hit him because he could not see the sight well, as the
