As I waited in the black woods I heard a sweet sound of dripping water: 'Tink tank tenk tink, Ta tink tank tenk tonk.'
I did not know of any spring so near, and in the hot night it was a glad find. But the sound led me to the bough of a oak-tree, where I found its source. Such a soft sweet song; full of delightful suggestion on such a night:
Tonk tank tenk tink
Ta tink a tonk a tank a tink a
Ta ta tink tank ta ta tonk tink
Drink a tank a drink a drunk.
It was the 'water-dripping' song of the saw-whet owl.
But suddenly a deep raucous breathing and a rustle of leaves showed that Ranger was back. He was completely fagged out. His tongue hung almost to the ground and was dripping with foam, his flanks were heaving and spume-flecks dribbled from his breast and sides. He stopped panting a moment to give my hand a dutiful lick, then flung himself flop on the leaves to drown all other sounds with his noisy panting.
But again that tantilizing 'Yap yurrr' was heard a few feet away, and the meaning of it all dawned on me. We were close to the den where the little foxes were, and the old ones were taking turns in trying to lead us away.
It was late night now, so we went home feeling sure that the problem was nearly solved.
II
It was well known that there was an old fox with his family living in the neighborhood, but no one supposed them so near.
This fox had been called 'Scarface,' because of a scar reaching from his eye through and back of his ear; this was supposed to have been given him by a barbed-wire fence during a rabbit hunt, and as the hair came in white after it healed it was always a strong mark.