Roof and Meadow | Page 7

to the fields and woods; one of
those who are forever hearing more than they hear, and seeing more
than they see. We scientists hear with our ears, see with our eyes, feel
with our fingers, and understand with our brains--"
"Just so, just so," I interrupt, "and you are a worthy but often a pretty
stupid set. Little Hyla in February, August, and December cries _Peep,
peep, peep!_ to you. But his cry to me in February is _Spring, spring,
spring!_ And in December--it depends; for I cannot see with my eyes
alone, nor hear with my ears, nor feel with my fingers only. You can,
and so could Peter Bell. To-day I saw and heard and felt the world all
gray and hushed and shrouded; and little Hyla, speaking out of the
silence and death, called _Cheer, cheer, cheer!_"
II
It is not because the gate is strait and the way narrow that so few get
into the kingdom of the Out-of-Doors. The gate is wide and the way is
broad. The difficulty is that most persons go in too fast.
If I were asked what virtue, above all others, one must possess in order
to be shown the mysteries of the kingdom of earth and sky, I should say,
there are several; I should not know which to name first. There are,

however, two virtues very essential and very hard to acquire, namely,
the ability to keep quiet and to stand still.
Last summer a fox in two days took fifteen of my chickens. I saw the
rascal in broad day come down the hill to the chicken-yard. I greatly
enjoy the sight of a wild fox; but fifteen chickens a sight was too high a
price. So I got the gun and chased about the woods half the summer for
another glimpse of the sinner's red hide. I saw him one Sunday as we
were driving into the wood road from church; but never a week-day
sight for all my chasing.
Along in the early autumn I got home one evening shortly after
sundown. I had left several cocks of hay spread out in the little meadow,
and though it was already pretty damp, I took the fork, went down, and
cocked it up.
Returning, I climbed by the narrow, winding path through the pines,
out into the corner of my pasture. It was a bright moonlight night, and
leaning back upon the short-handled fork, I stopped in the shadow of
the pines to look out over the softly lighted field.
Off in the woods a mile away sounded the deep, mellow tones of two
foxhounds. Day and night all summer long I had heard them, and all
summer long I had hurried to this knoll and to that for a shot. But the
fox always took the other knoll.
The echoing cries of the dogs through the silent woods were musical.
Soon they sounded sharp and clear--the hounds were crossing an open
stretch leading down to the meadow behind me. As I leaned, listening, I
heard near by a low, uneasy murmuring from a covey of quails sleeping
in the brush beside the path, and before I had time to think what it
meant, a fox trotted up the path I had just climbed, and halted in the
edge of the shadows directly at my feet.
I stood as stiff as a post. He sniffed at my dew-wet boots, backed away,
and looked me over curiously. I could have touched him with my fork.
Then he sat down with just his silver-tipped brush in the silver
moonlight, to study me in earnest.

The loud baying of the hounds was coming nearer. How often I had
heard it, and, in spite of my lost chickens, how often I had exclaimed,
"Poor little tired fox!" But here sat "poor little tired fox" with his
tongue in his head, calmly wondering what kind of stump he had run up
against this time.
I could only dimly see his eyes, but his whole body said: "I can't make
it out, for it doesn't move. But so long as it doesn't move I sha'n't be
scared." Then he trotted to this side and to that for a better wind,
somewhat afraid, but much more curious.
His time was up, however. The dogs were yelping across the meadow
on his warm trail. Giving me a last unsatisfied look, he dropped down
the path, directly toward the dogs, and sprang lightly off into the
thicket.
The din of their own voices must have deafened the dogs, or they
would have heard him. Round and round they circled, giving the fox
ample time for the study of another "stump" before they discovered that
he had doubled down the path, and still longer time before they