"
"You said your steel traps were cruel things, uncle," said Miss Laura.
"Why didn't you have a deadfall for the foxes as you had for the bears?"
"They were too cunning to go into deadfalls. There was a better way to
catch them, though. Foxes hate water, and never go into it unless they
are obliged to, so we used to find a place where a tree had fallen
across a river, and made a bridge for them to go back and forth on. Here
we set snares, with spring poles that would throw them into the river
when they made struggles to get free, and drown them. Did you ever hear
of the fox, Laura, that wanted to cross a river, and lay down on the
bank pretending that he was dead, and a countryman came along, and,
thinking he had a prize, threw him in his boat and rowed across, when
the fox got up and ran away?"
"Now, uncle," said Miss Laura, "you're laughing at me. That couldn't be
true."
"No, no," said Mr. Wood, chuckling; "but they're mighty cute at
pretending they're dead. I once shot one in the morning, carried him a
long way on my shoulders, and started to skin him in the afternoon, when
he turned around and bit me enough to draw blood.
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