jumped into the nest and invited Redcoat to share it with her. And, as he was so lonely and Fluffy and the pups were so far away, he followed after her, and the two foxes nestled down in the nest, and they were the best of friends from that hour.
But the life in this strange prison soon became intolerable to Redcoat. He was not used to it. Hitherto the fields, the woods and the green meadows had all been a part of his domain, and now it had narrowed down to this grassless plot of twenty-five feet by fifty. For him there were no more exciting runs through the meadow with the morning wind keen in his face; no more could he sit upon his lookout on the mountainside and watch the man creatures coming and going in the valley below. This life might be very well for these stupid foxes; these foxes who would eat from the hand of their worst enemy and knew not the danger that surrounded them. It was not that Redcoat was hungry or abused, but they had taken away the one thing he valued most in the whole world, his freedom.
