Outfoxed

CHAPTER 63

The small piles of corn brought out birds, woodchucks, deer as well as foxes.

Aunt Netty merrily nibbled away, ignoring the beautiful little bluebird swooping down next to her. The bird would grab a mouthful, then fly up to a tree branch. No matter how mellow Netty appeared to be, no reason to take chances.

The sides of the ravine loomed up; a few shady crevices had thin lines of snow stark against the dark gray rocks. The ravine remained cool.

Inky picked her way down the sloping southern edge.

Aunt Netty, her sleek head deep red now that her winter coat was in, called out, “Hello.”

Inky bounded next to her. “Isn’t this wonderful?” She ate a big mouthful of rich yellow corn.

“Sister’s laid a trail. We might as well enjoy it. It’s miles of trail. She’s been working on it for days. She’s even got corn under the hanging tree.”

“Does she normally do this before the biggest hunts?”

“No. Sister only puts out food when weather’s bad—like during the blizzards or during a terrible drought. She feels that we have to hunt for our food or we’ll get soft. I expect she’s right.” Netty munched more corn, careful not to drop any.

“I wonder what she’s going to do? A light frost tonight will ensure that our scent is everywhere. Mom and Dad will be out. I guess you all will be out.”

“Uncle Yancy will eat and go to bed. He said he did his duty on opening hunt.” Aunt Netty smiled. “I don’t know who will stay out but if they do retire, scent should be good for a while anyway. Given reports from the other foxes, I expect Sister made a loop of about four miles.”

“She won’t run people through here.” Inky appreciated the ravine’s inhospitable character for galloping.

“Maybe not but she’s got something on her mind.” Netty pointed to an envelope inside a plastic baggie tacked to a tree by the pool at the creek crossing.

“Trying to catch Reynard’s killer.”

Netty smiled. “Well, she’s trying to catch Fontaine’s killer but it amounts to the same thing, same person. You know there are a lot of hiding places in here. I’m going to be down here. I won’t run tomorrow. There are enough other foxes to do that. I want to be fresh to see what happens down here and to be ready for anything. What are your plans?”

“I was going to wait on the back side of Hangman’s Ridge, then go down toward the kennels.”

“Let me make a suggestion. Stay here in the ravine. Let me show you the dens. One or two are occupied by groundhogs but those are near the top of the ravine. You may have need of them and then again you may not. I suggest you not participate tomorrow either. When you hear hounds coming this way—and some will—climb a tree so that you can see everything. Between both of us we ought to figure out what’s going on.”

“Won’t hounds pick up my scent and wind up under the tree?”

“With any luck, the hunted fox, most probably Target at this point, will run through this crossing and up toward the rocks. He can easily lose hounds there. If, for some reason, that doesn’t happen, sit tight.”

“That will bring down the huntsman.” Inky thought a moment. “Huntsman and probably a whip.” She shook her head. “Won’t work. That will foul up the plan. Even though we don’t know what the plan is I’m sure it doesn’t call for two foxes in the ravine.”

“Crush up pokeweed stalks and throw them around. That will foul scent.”

“Maybe. Cora won’t be fooled for long. I think what I’d better do is sleep here tonight in one of these dens. In the morning I’ll walk in the middle of the creek until I find a tree close enough I can jump to. I don’t mind sitting up there for a few hours, especially with all this corn to eat before I get up there.”

“Why don’t you take that den there.” Netty indicated a den on the east side of the ravine not far from the pool. “I’ll take this one on the west side. I’ve investigated them. Lots of exits.”

“Until tomorrow, then.” Inky headed toward the den.