ery sick. I see
that fox two time. No got gun; borrow money on him to pay doctor, and
get blead. I borrow gun one day; sit all day, no get nothing; go home,
nothing to eat. Next day, man use his own gun, kill plenty. I know fox
in wet day find hollow tlee; no like to wet his tail. I say to-day I
kill him, get good gun, get cloes, get plenty blead and tee. I _know_ I
kill that fox."

"Well, Peter, we won't trouble you. We'll go to see you kill him, and
watch out to see that he don't get clear," said Davies; and the Indian,
rather hesitatingly, assented.

There was little woodcraft in following the "sign," for the tracks were
deeply impressed in the soft snow, and the heavy body and long neck of
his prey had left numerous impressions where the fox had rested for a
moment. In the course of half an hour the party had gained the shore,
and, passing through several fields, found themselves in a heavy growth
of beech and maple.

The fox, however, had not halted here, but emerging into a small meadow,
had crossed into a close copse of young firs and elders, in whose midst
a huge stump, whitened and splintered, rose some twenty-five feet into
the air.

Peter groaned audibly. "That old fox mean as debbil. Know that place no
good. No hollow tlee, only brush and thick branch. Fox get under loot,
and eat, watch twenty way at once: well, I try, any way."

Ben and La Salle hastily passed around the woods surrounding the glade,
until they reached the opposite side of the motte to that which Peter
was now entering. Noticing that only a narrow space of open ground
intervened at one point, Davies crept noiselessly down to the very edge
of the underbrush, about sixty yards from La Salle.

He had scarcely drawn himself up from his crouching position, when a
magnificent black fox crossed the opening almost at his very feet,
followed by the light axe of the Indian, which, thrown with astonishing
force and precision, passed just above the animal, and was buried almost
to the helve in a small tree not a yard from Davies's head.

Flurried out of his usual good judgment, Ben drew both triggers, with
uncertain aim, and the fox, swerving a little, passed him like a shot.
La Salle, springing forward through the narrow belt of woods, saw the
frightened animal a score of rods off, making across the fields for the
Western Bar. A fence bounded the field some six score yards away, under
which the fox must pass, and whose top rail, scarce three fe