Place bait about six or eight feet from stump, always on lower hillside. Daub your fox scent on top of stump, side towards your bait. For bait I use muskrat carca.s.ses, skunk, dead hens, rabbits, fish or partly decomposed meat. My receipt for fox scent is fish oil one-half pint (made by placing fish in gla.s.s can in summer and hanging in sun until decomposed) the musk sacks of ten or more muskrats, one or more fox matrix which are obtained from the female fox, also fat from the inside of either s.e.x is good. Mix all together. It will surely draw the fox.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ADIRONDACK TRAPPER.]

CHAPTER XVII.

REYNARD OUTWITTED.

A good fox year can be counted upon with reasonable certainty once every five years, says Martin Hunter, on the Labrador coast, at least so say the oldest residents. The year before they begin to come down from the interior, then the climax for great numbers. Then the following year they decrease in numbers to what they were two years before, and the winter following so few that one or two about in miles of coast is a rarity.

Such was the case in the winter of 71; 69 had been a great fox year.

What was not trapped in the winter of 70 had migrated back to the remote interior. Between the posts of Sc.u.m Islands and Moisie, a distance of twenty-one miles of coast, there was only known to be one fox--a red one--with a claw missing on his right paw, and he was as cunning an old fellow as ever bothered a trapper. For a night or two he would play all kinds of tricks down about Moisie, and then we would hear of him around Seven Islands. There being no kind of hunting, the people got anxious as to who would succeed in catching the old rascal.

Bait would be sprinkled about at certain places, and no traps. Big tail would come around and eat every sc.r.a.p; this would be done for two or three nights in succession, and then the hunter would think the fox's fears were allayed, and carefully put two or three traps and the bait as usual. Next morning the bait would be gone, as before, but he would find his traps turned up side down.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FOX TRAPS WITH DRAGS.]

The fox we will say would pa.s.s and repa.s.s at a certain up-turned root or a point of trees, then the hunter would think a trap in his beaten track would surely nip him. Not so, however. The trap would be nicely concealed, but old Reynard would deflex his road to suit the circ.u.mstances. Smoking, greasing, or all the usual modes of taking the smell from the iron traps were of no avail; when a trap was set where his supper was spread, that old fox would begin by digging a trench from a distance off in a straight line for the hidden traps, the closer he got to the danger the slower and more cautiously he would work. This we could see plainly next morning by standing outside his works and reading his signs.

There were better and older trappers in the field after this old stayer's life, but it was given to me to circ.u.mvent his maneuvers and possess his fur. I had reset my traps near the bait two nights in succession in the exact place where he had turned them over, and of course he burrowed along his old trench to get at them. This I carefully noted and set another trap in the trench on edge. Something told me I was going to be successful, and I hardly slept that night.

I was on my snowshoes and off at the first grey of the February morning. Before I got to the point where my traps were set I saw his fresh tracks leading off in the same direction I was going. My heart beat with expectation and antic.i.p.ation as I hurried forward; it was not for the value of the beast, but to have it to say I had killed the cunning fox of 1871 where all the old hunters had failed.

Yes there he was sure enough, as I turned the last point; I could hardly credit my good fortune, and was so afraid that he would even now escape that I walked right on top of him with my snowshoes. He was pinned down tight with my weight and was powerless to even wriggle. I slipped my left hand under the snowshoe and with my other hand pulled down his heart; a quiver or two and that fox was a good fox.

Indians never strike or shoot either foxes, mink or marten when they find them alive in the traps, as it causes the blood to collect and congeal where the blow was given, and spoils the looks of the skin, besides the annoyance of the blood when skinning. They hold the animal by the neck and with the other hand pull down the heart until the heart-strings break, and death is as sudden as if the spine were severed.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FOX SHOOTING.

The fox, although the cleverest animal sought after by New England hunters and trappers, says L. W. Beardsley, of Connecticut, seems to have one decided drawback, that of sight, which frequently costs him his life. Sly and clever with very acute nose and ear, he appears to be unable to tell a man from a tree or stone by sight alone, provided the person remains motionless, but the slightest motion is detected and sends him dusting for cover. The above I have proved to my entire satisfaction time and again when hunting this animal, a few instances of which I will quote below.

While walking along the tracks of the Berkshire Division R. R., which were bounded on the west by a steep hill with a fence three boards high, placed horizontally about eight inches apart skirting the track, I noticed beneath the lower board the legs of a fox moving toward me some seventy-five yards away. I stopped between the rails, half raising my 38-40 Stevens, telescope mounted, and waited for a favorable shot. When some thirty yards away the fox crawled under the fence and trotted down the bank immediately in front of me, where I stood in plain view. He stopped in the middle of the track and looked towards me unconcernedly for several seconds, then swung his head down the tracks in the direction of a train which was rapidly approaching from the south. This was my chance. I brought the cross hairs to bear just back of his foreleg and pulled. With one mighty bound in the air he fell back across the rails without a struggle, and I had to do some hustling to pull him out of the way before the train was upon us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KILLED BEFORE BREAKFAST.]

Again I was sitting on a stone, my back against a wall in an open pasture lot waiting in hopes a fox might use the runway which pa.s.sed close by. I had been waiting quietly since 4 A. M. It was now 6:30, and I had nearly given up hopes of seeing a fox that morning and was getting perhaps rather careless about watching, when something rustled in the gra.s.s, and raising my eyes without moving my head, I saw a red fox in the act of pa.s.sing in front of me not more than ten or fifteen feet away in the open lot.

I remained motionless until he was well past, then raising my gun slowly and carefully I fired at the back of his head as he was trotting leisurely away, all unconscious of my presence, and perhaps only saw twenty-five yards off. The fox never knew what had killed him, and I often wonder if that load of shot surprised him more than his sudden appearance surprised me, as I sat dozing on the rock. I used on this occasion a 10 ga. full choke Winchester, level action repeater Model 1901, loaded with 4 1/2 drs. black powder and 1 1/4 oz. B. shot.

Late one afternoon several years ago while out hunting grey squirrel at Swamp Mortar Rock with Wm. E. Howes I, who was hunting about 200 yards south of "Bill," heard a fox barking just over a rise of ground, and cautiously approaching saw two foxes digging at the roots of a decayed stump. Just as I was getting within effective gun shot range I stepped on a twig which snapped with my weight. The sound started the animals. Neither saw me, however, as I had remained perfectly motionless. The moment the twig broke one took a course due east, the other quartered toward me disappearing in the thick laurels. There was a small opening in these bushes opposite me, and with c.o.c.ked gun trained on this spot I waited the appearance of the fox.

In a moment he was in the clearing, and as he was stepping over a log about 30 yards away I gave him my right barrel and tumbled him over, and as he endeavored to get up I put on the finishing touches with my left. I was using a Baker full choke 28 in. 12 ga. loaded with 3 1/4 drs. black powder with 1 1/8 oz. No. 7 shot.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RESULTS OF A THREE DAYS HUNT.]

While looking for woodchuck signs early one spring on my way to pasture, I was following a old logging road when I saw a fox crossing in front of me and disappear in the ferns, going toward a high ledge west of the road. I stood still and waited. When the fox reached the lower part of the ledge he stopped about 75 or 80 yards from me and sat down. When his head was turned away I would sneak cautiously a few feet nearer, always standing motionless when he looked my way, and thus reduced the distance between us to about 50 yards.

At this point just as I was about to shoot the fox, who was partially concealed with leaves and ferns, moved some 10 yards up the ledge and was getting uneasy, although he had not seen me, and the wind was unfavorable for closer approach. I waited and he climbed nearly to the top of the ledge and laid down on a flat rock in the sun. With the utmost caution I slowly crawled back to the road and approached his foxship from the west, keeping some large rocks between us until I had approached within 35 yards. He was sitting up, breast toward me as I cautiously peeped over a rock, but his head was turned away, so I stepped out into plain view, leveling my gun as I did so. Slowly the fox turned his head and faced me, but he appeared to see nothing unusual in the silent figure clad in the worn gray hunting coat, brown overalls and soft brown hat.

I could see him twitch his ears and blink his eyes lazily in the glare of the setting sun. Fully a minute I stood admiring the picture. It seemed a pity to kill this clever fellow I had so easily outwitted. My eye dropped a little lower, the bra.s.s bead trembled on his breast, and through the faint haze of smokeless powder I saw the old quail thief kicking and struggling in the edge of the ledge. A moment later he toppled over his carca.s.s, bounding from rock to rock in its 50 foot descent. I was using a 12 ga. full choke 30 in.

Stevens, smokeless and B shot.

Another time I was sitting in the woods for grey squirrel early in October. It was about 5:30 A. M. and just getting light. I heard the tread of an animal behind me and the rustle of leaves, which ceased a few feet away. By rolling my eyes and slightly moving my head I could see the outlines of a fox standing behind me, hardly ten feet away.

Cautiously I attempted to move the muzzle of my gun in his direction, but he detected me immediately and disappeared midst the laurels like a flash.

Although he had stood two or three minutes within a few feet of me before I attempted to turn evidently trying to figure out what I was, not until I had made a movement did he realize he was so near his old enemy, "man," which goes to show that Mr. Fox, with every other sense alert, is like many other of his wild brethren, unable to tell man from an inanimate by mere sight alone, when he remains motionless.

CHAPTER XIX.

A SHREWD FOX.

Several years ago, when foxes were more numerous here than they are now, the writer, R. B., of Canada, in company with two other hunters, went on a fox hunting expedition. We had two dogs which had not been trained but would follow a trail pretty well. We had to travel over newly-made ice a distance of three miles to a small island about a mile long and quite narrow, on which were three small groves of fir trees which was the only cover for game, the surface of the island being chiefly meadow and marsh land. We landed on the eastern end of the island, and within a short time after the hunt began one of the party shot a fox, and in the afternoon the writer got a chance at a shot and succeeded in knocking over a very fine red fox. As night was now near we started for home, intending to return next day and renew the hunt, as we knew there was yet another fox on the island. Next day, however, was stormy, and we postponed the hunt till the following day, which being fine gave us a good chance for our work.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALWAYS HUNGRY.]

The same party of hunters and dogs renewed the chase early in the morning but the fox seemed to have learned a lesson from the previous hunt, and all day long he was chased from grove to grove by the dogs without giving a chance of a shot at him. As night was fast approaching we began to fear our hunt was going to be unsuccessful when we discovered that the fox had changed his tactics, and instead of taking shelter in the groves had run clear out to one end of the island, which was very narrow, and as we thought would take to the ice and thus get away from us. However, we followed after him, and you may imagine our surprise when the fox, instead of going on the ice, suddenly turned around and came directly toward us, and when about one hundred yards distant suddenly disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him up; one of the party who knew there was an old uncovered well there shouted out, "the fox is in the well!" We all hastened to the spot, and sure enough there was Mr. Fox in the well clinging to some sticks floating in the water about eight feet below the surface of the ground. As we had no rope or any facilities for getting reynard out of the well alive, we had to take a mean and unsportsmanlike advantage of our prisoner by putting a small charge of shot into his head and then fishing him out of the water with a forked stick. That the fox could never have gotten out of the well by his own exertions I do not believe, but that he went into it to escape from us is certain.

CHAPTER XX.

STILL-HUNTING THE FOX.

Many have requested me to give my method of still-hunting the red fox. As my hair is turning gray and the red foxes are about all gone here I will give an outline of my method, and will try and not weary the reader with a long account, thus writes G. O. Green, of Illinois.

Winter is the best time for hunting the red fox, and I have been more successful in January and February than other months. There are always some localities where the red fox spends the day, curled up asleep, and it is generally in a hilly locality as far as he can get from the presence of man.

The still hunter has only to go to these places on fair days and hunt as far as possible against the wind. If the wind is blowing some so much the better--it will help to deaden the sound of the hunter's tread. When you get into likely ground walk slow, and be sure you observe every object on the ground, both in front and in fact at least three sides. The average still hunter hunts too fast and don't use his eyes in the right direction--if he is a bird hunter he will be looking up in the trees too much.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BLACK FOX SKIN VALUED AT $1500.]

A red fox is a small animal, and the hunter must keep his eyes always on the ground while hunting the old Red. If snow is on the ground and the hunter jumps a fox without getting a shot, the hunter, if he is a novice, will be pretty sure to go on the run after the fox when he comes to the place where the fox has just jumped. When you find the fox has been jumped sit right down and eat your lunch, and wait twenty minutes or a half hour. The fox will run perhaps 80 rods then get on a log or stump and watch his back track, and if he does not see any one following him he will not go far before he will look for another place to lie down.

When you come to a place where the fox makes zigzag trail, stop and look very close in every direction for at least one hundred yards.

The fox rarely makes a straight trail when he is going to lie down; in this he resembles the deer. The fox sleeps most soundly between 11 o'clock and 2 o'clock in the daytime, and I have killed most of mine during that time. A fox jumped after 3 o'clock in the afternoon will hardly lie down again that day. A double-barrel shotgun loaded with No. 4 shot will stop any fox up to about 50 yards; above that distance coa.r.s.er shot usually straddle the fox. When the day is cold and snow is crusty, stay at home, for you will get no fox but plenty of exercise.

When a fox goes into the ground while you are trailing him, don't try to dig him out; it is hard work. On three occasions I have got his brush by going to the burrow about sundown and getting a good position near the burrow to wait for him to come out. I have never been disappointed in getting a shot about the time that you can see half a dozen stars twinkling. But it takes good eyes to see a fox in twilight.

Now reader, these are not all the points of still hunting. It takes a peculiar cuss for a still hunter, and still hunters are born that way; all the education in the world will not make a still hunter.

CHAPTER XXI.