If only wounded, they went after him with all speed.
"Sometimes he was overtaken and killed, and sometimes he got into his burrow in the earth, or in a hollow log, or among the rocks.
"One day, I remember, when I was standing on the outside of the circle, the fox came in sight.

I fired.

He gave a shrill bark, and came toward me.

Then he stopped in the snow and fell dead in his tracks.

I was a pretty good shot in those days." "Poor little fox," said Miss Laura.