ot to alarm them suddenly, drive them to the edge
of the precipice; then they all at once set up the most terrific yells,
and taking flight, the poor deer leap over the precipice, where the
wolves follow them at their leisure by a safer path, to feed on their
mangled carcases.

On one occasion, a troop of nine white wolves endeavoured to practise
the same trick upon Sir John Richardson, evidently intending to drive
him into the river. However, when he rose up they halted, and on his
advancing, made way for him to go to the tents.

The lovers of tragic histories will find many of the most fearful kind
among the legends of all countries where wolves abound; all probably
founded on fact, but mostly interwoven with romance. There cannot be
anything much more shocking than that of the solitary traveller,
galloping into a village pursued by these beasts, and knocking at the
doors, earnestly entreating for refuge. The inhabitants were mostly
buried in sleep; some few heard and did not move, others had a dim,
confused notion of what was passing, and also remained in their beds;
while others again did not hear anything. The next morning the sad event
was told by finding the traveler's cloak and a few bones.

[5] Gosse's Canadian Naturalist.

FOXES.

Stealing along in the dark of evening, the cunning and rapacious Fox
(Canis Vulpes) leaves his hole in the earth, and roams in search of his
prey. The poultry-yards, rabbit-warrens, and the haunts of game, tell of
his skilful depredations; but he is not at all difficult in his
appetite. To be sure, when he can get ripe grapes, he has a feast. If
young turkeys and hares are not to be had, he puts up with a young
fawn, a wild duck, or even weasels, mice, frogs, or insects. He will
also walk down to the sea-shore, and sup upon the remains of fishes, or
arrest the crabs and make them alter their sidelong course so as to
crawl down his throat. Reynard also has an eye to the future; for he
never lets anything escape which comes within his sharp bite, and as
there must be a limit to the quantity which any animal can contain, when
he cannot possibly eat any more, he, in various spots, well marked by
himself, buries the remainder for the morrow's meal. With only his toes
touching the earth, he prowls about with noiseless steps; his nose and
ears alive to the faintest sound or odour; his cat-like eyes, with
linear pupil, gleaming like coals of fire, and he suddenly springs upon
h