It was the early spring time. The snow banks were melting away, leaving the brown earth soft enough for the flowers to push through as soon as they felt the warmth of the sun.
Across the high hill, which sloped down to the river, came a pair of foxes. The splendid Silver Fox, with a black mark across the eyes like a mask, was called Domino. The dainty little lady fox by his side, with a red coat and an elegant ruffle of white, was Snowyruff. They had met one day in the woods, and chosen each other for mates and friends for life, as is the way of foxes. Now they were searching through the woods for a place to build their home.
Snowyruff looked about the piney glade, nosed the ground, then began to dig. It was her way of saying, "I am satisfied. We'll set up housekeeping here."
She did not know that she had chosen the same sunny slope on which Domino himself had lived as a tiny cub, but she did know that it was a fine place for a home for a family of foxes. The hillside would be sheltered and warm; the den door would be hidden by the pine thicket near.
The deep snow and deep leaves had kept the earth soft enough for her to dig, so she worked away with a will. Domino sat on the hill and kept guard for an hour, then he took her place and worked while Snowyruff kept watch. So, working together, they built their home; a cozy, well-hidden den it was, too. No eye could detect it, though within a dozen feet; and as the warm spring sunshine set the grass growing, it was better hidden each day.
The pair were more and more careful not to be seen near the den. At last one day Snowyruff said to Domino: "Keep away now!" and he kept away from the den for days. While he was absent a wonderful thing happened: Five little foxes were born! When Snowyruff left them to slip down to the river for a cooling drink of water, Domino was there on the bank watching. She said to him in plain Fox language: "You must not come home yet," so he crouched with his head flat on the leaves, and she hurried back to the den.
The next day when she was hungry, she ate some of the food which they had stored up in the dry sand of the side chamber of the den. Two days later, she went to the door, and there was a pile of food—Domino had stolen down and left it for her and their babies. After that, every day, there was food at the door, or hidden in the grass near by.
When the cubs were nine days old their eyes opened, they whimpered less, and Snowyruff felt it safer to leave them. Domino now came in to see his family, and a proud father he was. He guarded them with the greatest care, and was as devoted to them as Mother Snowyruff herself.
When they were about a month old, the little toddlers were brought out into the sunlight in front of the den. There they romped and wrestled and raced with each other. Sometimes they chased flies or bumble-bees, sometimes they made a fine game of catching Mother's tail, or tussled over a dried duck's wing.
As the days passed and the young foxes grew stronger, Domino and Snowyruff began teaching them to find food for themselves. Live game was brought home each day. Sometimes a frog, or a fat field mouse, was brought, and then turned loose for the youngsters to re-capture. Once Domino called, "Chur-chur-chur," and when the rollicking cubs came tumbling over one another, he dropped a live muskrat in their midst. They pounced on it, but the muskrat was a desperate fighter. It seemed for a time that he would win, but the father and mother only looked on. They must let their children learn to do hard things for themselves, so they waited until one cub was strong enough and quick enough to lay the muskrat low.