Once there was a fox who lived on a high mountain in California, and le knew all about traps. His name was Silver-gray, and his winter coat of fur was so beautiful that any lady would be proud to wear it. Tn fact. so many ladies wanted to wear fur like his that merchants offered a great price for his skin and for the skins of all his brothers, the family of silver-gray foxes,
Now there were in California many men who had trapped beavers and minks in the days when people liked to wear those furs. And when they heard of the great price offered for the skins of silver-gray foxes they took their heavy steel traps and their rifles and provisions, and climbed to the top of the high mountains which are called Sierra Nevada, that is, Mountains of Snow. There, when the snow lay heavy on the ground and Silver-gray’s fur was fine and long, they set their traps to catch him. But while they caught many of his cousins, the black foxes and cross-foxes, and also many of his own brothers, the silver-grays, they did not catch Silver-gray himself—because he knew all about traps.
No matter how carefully they buried their steel traps in the snow, Silver-gray knew where they were. He could smell the iron, and the touch of their hands, and even where their shoes had trodden the ground. For days after they had set them, when the scent had died out in the cold air, Silver-gray could still smell the iron of the traps; and he kept away.
When the spring came and Silver-gray shed his winter fur, all the trappers went down to the valley, for they did not want his skin unless it was covered with the heavy hair which grew when the weather was cold.
Next winter, as soon as the snow lay deep on the Sierra Nevada Mountains and Silver-gray’s skin was once more covered with fine long fur, all the trappers came back to their cabins in the mountains and set their traps again. For so heautiful was the fur of silver-gray foxes that every lady in the land wanted a skin, but the silver-gray foxes were so scarce that the great price of the year before had been doubled.
But there was an old man with a long beard who had trapped for many years, and when he saw Silver-gray’s track in the snow he knew that the fox’s skin was worth a great price. So, while the other trappers left the mountains, he remained behind; for he had resolved to catch Silver-gray, if it took all winter.
Now, first, in order to make Silver-gray tame and less afraid of the smell of man, this old trapper, whose name was Ransome, went out and shot wild pigeons and grouse and threw them in the places where he intended to set his traps. But Silver-gray passed by without eating them, for he remembered the terrible steel traps and was afraid of the smell of man. Then Old Man Ransome took some medicine which smells very sweet, and is called oil of bergamot, and he rubbed this on the trunks of the trees beneath which he had put the wild birds.
As Silver-gray was coming through the forest111
