ey reached the camp.

Inside the old cabin, however, they found three or four matches in a
little tin box that was nailed to a log behind the stovepipe. Hunters
had occupied the camp not long before; but they had left scarcely a
sliver of anything dry or combustible inside it; they had even whittled
and shaved the old bunk beam and plank table in order to get kindlings.
After a glance round, Kate went out to gather dry brush along the brook.

Running on a little way, she picked up dry twigs here and there. At
last, by a clump of white birches, she found a fallen spruce. As she was
breaking off some of the twigs a strange noise caused her to pause
suddenly. It was, indeed, an odd sound--not a snarl or a growl, or yet a
bark like that of a dog, but a querulous low "yapping." At the same
instant she heard the snow crust break, as if an animal were approaching
through the thicket of young firs.

More curious than frightened, Kate listened intently. A moment later she
saw a large gray fox emerge from among the firs and come toward her.
Supposing that it had not seen or scented her, and thinking to frighten
it, she cried out suddenly, "Hi, Mr. Fox!"

To her surprise the fox, instead of bounding away, came directly toward
her, and now she saw that its head moved to and fro as it ran, and that
clots of froth were dropping from its jaws. Kate had heard that foxes,
as well as dogs and wolves, sometimes run mad. She realized that if this
beast were mad, it would attack her blindly and bite her if it could.
Still clutching her armful of dry twigs, she turned and sped back toward
the camp. As she drew near the cabin, she called to the other girls to
open the door. They heard her cries, and Ellen flung the door open. As
Kate darted into the room, she cried, "Shut it, quick!"

Startled, the other two girls slammed the door shut, and hastily set the
heavy old camp table against it.

"It's only a fox!" Kate cried. "But it has gone mad, I think. I was
afraid it would bite me."

Peering out of the one little window and the cracks between the logs,
they saw the animal run past the camp. It was still yapping weirdly, and
it snapped at bushes and twigs as it passed. Suddenly it turned back and
ran by the camp door again. Afterward they heard its cries first up the
slope behind the camp, and then down by the brook.

"We mustn't go out," Kate whispered. "If it were to bite us, we, too,
should go mad."

There was no danger of the beas