Vulpes cascadensis paid "The Mountain's" guests a visit the other day. Perhaps you know him as Reynard the Sly or simply as the Red Fox. This visitor was a reddish brown with long, bushy tail tipped with silver white.
He was seen by several parties at the Camp Grounds at Longmire and cooly returned their stares. He also introduced himself toward dusk of the same evening, to Mr. Earle Kaufman, government Fire Control Expert. Kaufman tried to approach him. Reynard did not choose to run, but neither did he choose to shake hands. He stalked calmly into the woods trailing his magnificent brush behind him.
For three or four years Foxes had a den below Marmot Point--the first jagged rock below Paradise Valley on the right of the road coming down. But they have evidently changed their address--there are no signs of family and fireside there this year.
An old hunter of these parts has a tale to tell about foxes that shows they come by their sly reputation honestly. Foxes, he says, came down upon the hills and made fast friends with his hounds. The old hunter approved of this fraternal spirit -- until he wanted his hounds to chase their brother's of the wild. Then the dogs only wanted to rub noses with their fellow Canidae.
The old hunter offered to show us the grave of the ancient hound to prove his tale. We didn't see the grave--but it's a good story anyhow.
L. G. Richards.
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