I saw Triplefoot fool the hounds one fall. I was resting in the woods when I heard the hounds in Magnolia Swamp. I understood what was going on. Triplefoot was trying to throw them off, but the dogs had a good scent, and all her efforts were useless. Near where I was sitting there was a pine-tree turned up by the roots. The trunk of the tree was about two feet from the ground, near the roots, but the ground fell off rapidly, so the top, with the foliage, was over ten feet in the air. While I was listening to the hounds, Triplefoot came in sight. She passed close to the leaning pine, and kept on over the hill. There was a small pond in the valley, below, and I thought Triplefoot was going to the water to throw off the dogs. But I had erred. In a few minutes she returned, doubling on her trail. When she had reached the pine, she jumped to the tree, where it was four feet from the ground. She stopped to look around, and saw me. The wind was against her, so she had to be guided by sight. She seemed satisfied that the man was the hermit, for she went into the thick foliage of the pine top and awaited the hounds. The hounds passed by the tree without stopping, but returned after following the trail to water. Both hounds passed by the tree, to return in a few minutes. One hound had a suspicion that the tree might harbor the fox. He put his paws on the tree-trunk, and smelt along as far as he could reach, then gave it up. Triplefoot had been wise when she jumped to the tree beyond the dog's reach. After the hounds left, Triplefoot came out of the tree and circled around me. She wanted to make sure that I was the hermit. I examined the pine-tree and found the bark much scratched, where Triplefoot had jumped on to it. The evidence showed that she had frequently resorted to the trick, to throw off the hounds. I wish I might end the story of this little three-footed fox in some happy way, but truth has ordered it otherwise. She was shot when running before the hounds, but was not immediately killed. I found her dead body while skirting Magnolia Swamp. She had crawled under a boulder, and had slowly died from her wounds and exhaustion. I buried her, and was glad that her beautiful robe and her mutilated body would not be separated in death.
THE END.
Transcriber Note
Minor typos corrected. Paragraphs split by illustrations were rejoined.