Knowing that sooner or later, unless protected, the beavers would be killed for their pelts, the Hermit had made a trip to the city and had purchased the land through which the stream ran. Thus the trappers found themselves poachers and were forced to leave empty-handed. The Hermit removed the snares and departed, leaving Ahmeek and his colony once more free to dream away the winter unmolested. SILVER SPOT Near the southern border of the wilderness the aisles of lofty spruce give place to second-growth birch, maple and ash, and these in turn to wild meadows and stump lots. The country is rugged, broken here and there by upthrusts of gray rock. Protruding ledges shelter dark caves, and protect their moss-carpeted entrances from sun and wind. Dense thickets of pawpaw, hazel and wild cherry offer coverts for the shy and furtive kindred of the forest: goggle-eyed rabbits, restless as wind-blown leaves; mice, with their intricate system of runways among the grass roots; slow-moving porcupines, prickly as huge sandburs; and occasionally a stately buck or savage-eyed Canada lynx. In such a country, in a cleverly concealed den about a mile from the Hermit's cabin, Silver Spot was born. A projecting ledge, crowned with hazel brush, concealed the mouth of the den which looked out upon a small mossy clearing, sloping warmly toward the rising sun. It was an ideal location, for, though it lay so near the outposts of civilization, no human foot had ever trodden the spot until the Hermit discovered it quite by accident one day while harvesting a store of golden seal, a root of great value in the drug market. Drawn by the peace and seclusion of this shadowy, green world, he laid aside his mattock and wandered to the edge of the hazel thicket. Thinking the spot a likely one for a fox den, he parted the bushes and, as noiselessly as one of the forest creatures, crept forward until he could look into the mossy clearing under the ledge. He had been there but a moment when out into the sunshine rolled a furry ball which, upon dissolving, proved to be three sturdy fox cubs. For a moment they sat on their tails, blinking in the sunlight; then, as if at a signal, they rose upon their haunches and began a good-natured rough and tumble, biting and clawing as they rolled over and over on the moss. All were appealing, as are young animals at play the world over, but to one the Hermit's eyes turned in admiration again and again. He was larger than the others, with a snowy white spot on breast and tail. His movements were quick and sure and, though he still possessed some of the awkwardness of the kitten, he showed every indication of making a splendid animal when grown. [Illustration: A full grown fox stood motionless in the sunlight, a rabbit hanging limply from her jaws.]