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 cocked 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.
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 brass 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 carcass, 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.