Red Ben, the Fox of Oak Ridge

by Joseph Wharton Lippincott

A few yards farther they circled a marshy place where spring frogs were singing merrily; “peep, peep—peep,” they sang, over and over again. There seemed to be one piping from the bank, almost under the pup’s nose, but he could not find it, nor could he find any of the others, for they were in the water with only their small noses and eyes stuck out behind the blades of grass and twigs.

Coon Tracks

The old fox examined the mud for tracks, satisfied herself that those she found were made by a coon and not by man or dog, then turned to look for the pup. He was in the act of springing on something he had found in the grass. Up went his front paws, and then down he came right on top of a mouse which had been feeding on winter dried cranberries clinging to vines near the water. The pup had smelled it and found its hiding place all by himself. Now he tussled with the furry little creature until it had squeaked its last squeak.

The mother let him eat it all, then led away to Goose Creek. Here the incautious pup surprised a great blue heron in the act of catching a minnow. With a mighty flapping of big wings the scared bird started over the water, his long legs tucked up under his tail, his neck doubled back, so that it seemed only half its real length. When he got well away, his angry challenge—“u-r-g-h-h-, u-r-g-h, urgh, urgh”—could be heard all over Cranberry Swamp, warning his mate and all the other birds and animals, too, that there was danger lurking near.

A red squirrel ran out on a limb nearby to see what had disturbed the old fisherman. Two crows circled cautiously in that direction, a pair of wood ducks sprang from a pool below and winged their way up the creek towards a safer feeding ground; the frogs stopped peeping, and the lone kingfisher, sitting on a stub in the stream, enjoying the first rays of the morning sun, darted away with a rattling scream.

It was a wonderful lesson to the pup. It taught him that he must be careful not to disturb any creature that can spread alarm and excite the whole wood. It awoke in him the true fox nature which prompts the wisest of them to travel with all the noiseless stealth of a crafty Indian. He found out then what he saw more and more clearly the longer he lived, that there is a bond joining together the woods folk into one great family, for mutual protection.

He was the one feared, the outcast, this time; but at another time it might be a man with a gun, or a big hound, whom he would flee from, when warned, with the same dread as Blue Heron.

Now, he slunk back of some bushes and waited there while the noise and excitement died down.

Red Squirrel, however, kept his bright eyes on him, and fussed and scolded, without a stop. To him the branches were just like so many paths, over which he could run like the wind from one tree to another, until he reached the little hole in the hollow cedar he lived in, or dashed to another safe little hole under the roots of a magnolia, not far away. Therefore, when he was off the ground, why should he fear a fox, especially a young one like this? “Bur-r-r-r-r-r-r,” he fairly shouted as he danced and fumed first on one limb, then on one nearer, until so close overhead that the fox could see the four sharp teeth with which he gnawed nuts so easily.