Moscodelphia by Charles Rafferty

Author:Charles Rafferty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Woodhall Press
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 47:

IT WOULD SMELL THE BACON MORE

Pasha was happy when he woke to the ground covered lightly in snow. The grass was still sticking through in the yard, and there were uncovered patches under the pines. Behind the trees the sky was lightening, and the windows were not creaking. The morning would be windless.

This would be Pasha’s chance to find the fox that had been trying to get at his chickens. Every night for a week, the coop had erupted in commotion as they smelled the fox approaching or heard him testing the wire of their enclosure. Although the fox had so far failed to kill one of the hens, Pasha knew it would happen soon if he didn’t take action. If the animal was willing to risk entering the farm at night, it must be desperate. It would eventually succeed.

It was cold out, and there would be little work on the farm. His mother and father would take the opportunity to sleep in late, though he knew they must be listening to him even now, trying to judge his movements down in the kitchen. Pasha put on both of his coats and grabbed the two steel traps they used mostly for gophers. Then he went out to the chicken yard to see what the tracks would tell him. The chickens were not yet up and out of their coop, but he could see that the fox had never gotten inside the fence. He saw how it paced twice around the entire enclosure looking for a weakness, even though it must have performed the same inspection on its other visits to the pen. In a couple of places, Pasha saw where the fox had sat back on its haunches, sniffing at the feathery, dung-filled air. Then the tracks headed off between the barn and the outhouse, in the direction of the woods.

The tracks were neat and unhurried, so Pasha went back and grabbed a biscuit and a strip of old bacon and put them in his pocket. He decided he would follow the tracks until he found where the animal had denned. Then he’d lay the traps and return the next day.

The trail was easy to follow, though the fox took Pasha through prickers and thick bushes that made it impossible for him to move with any secrecy. It didn’t matter. Pasha was not attempting surprise. In fact, he hoped the fox was just ahead of his footfall. It would force the fox into a hole more quickly, a hole the fox might not be familiar with. A second entrance would be less likely, and Pasha would not have to walk all morning.

But the fox’s trail continued unhurried through the woods, being careful to keep the farmhouses as far away as possible. Then the tracks changed. He saw where the animal had stopped to think. The tracks briefly disappeared, and it took Pasha a moment to see where they began again. A dozen feet away, he saw where the fox had landed.

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