THE ARCTIC FOXES.
The hill-side seemed to be alive with foxes; and,
scenting the blood of the dead deer, they flocked in
from all directions. These little animals were at first
quite tame, but they had been cured of their familiarity
by the lessons learned from the hunters, and
had to be approached with adroitness. Of both the
blue and white varieties I had living specimens in my
cabin. One of them was the gentle creature, named
Birdie, which I have already mentioned. The other
one was purely white, and did not differ from Birdie
in shape, although it was somewhat larger. The fur
of the latter was much more coarse than the former.
Their cry was exactly the same. But, while Birdie
was very docile, and had grown quite domesticated,
the other was thoroughly wild and untamable. Their
respective weights were 4-1/4 and 7 pounds. The latter
was full grown and unusually large.
These two varieties of the fox, notwithstanding their many points of resemblance, are evidently distinct species. I have not known them to mix, the coat of each preserving its distinctive hue, that of the blue fox varying merely in degree of shade, while the white changes only from pure white to a slightly yellowish tinge. The term "blue," as applied to the species to which Birdie belonged, is not wholly a misnomer, for, as seen upon the snow, its color gives something of that effect. The color is in truth a solid gray, the white and black being harmoniously blended, and not mixed as in the gray fox of Northern America. Their skins are much sought after by the trappers of Southern Greenland, where the animals are rare, for the fur commands a fabulous price in the Copenhagen market.
These foxes obtain a very precarious subsistence,
