reason and then he had gone into the trap.
Again Redcoat tried the little house at every corner, but there was no escape, so he finally lay down to await his fate. He was not beaten. He was not badly cowed, only a dreadful fear gripped him at times, and this made him weak and sick. Yet he did not give up as some other wild animals would have done. He would wait and watch. At the first ray of light from any corner of the trap he would be waiting to dash forth and escape. If he ever got free, he would run so far and so fast they would never find him again. This country where men came and went so freely, where the Thunderer rushed by each day, was too noisy and too dangerous. He would find a new range far from the haunts of men.
Of course, Redcoat's thoughts were not as concrete as this, but there was born within him, while he waited in the trap, a great repulsion for the haunts and ways of men. They were too dangerous. A poor fox could not hope to escape amid such dangers.
