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 Yet he was far from sleeping, for his two hungry yellow eyes were glued upon the conical muskrat house at the point of land in the stream. Not a movement in the entire scene escaped him. Also his keen nostrils were sifting the morning air, for the first faint scent of the rats.

For half an hour he lay there, without moving so much as a muscle. A less patient hunter would have become discouraged and gone in search of other quarry, but not so the red fox. He knew that patience is the hunter's long suit, so he watched and waited.

At last his patience was rewarded, for a sleek young muskrat, nearly grown, came slowly out of the house and looked warily about him. He too was hungry, and he wanted to see if he could find some roots along the shore which were to his taste. Slowly he ventured forward, looking this way and that. Did Mr. Fox make a dash and try to catch the rat before he should return to his house? Not he, he would wait and make sure of his prey. He would let