Bob had every confidence in Ruth's ability to shoot and did not fear an accident from her gun. While Ruth couldn't do many things, shooting was not one of them, for she had proven herself to be an expert shot on a number of occasions. When they reached the woods they separated and Bob went up the ravine while Ruth kept along the hillsides. They had not gone very far when a chicken hawk flew over the ravine just ahead of Bob and alighted on a tree. Here was an unexpected opportunity of making a good shot and bringing home a trophy worth while. So he took careful aim and fired, but the distance was either too great or the aim was bad, for the hawk flew away. He continued up the ravine until he came to a line fence which he followed up the hill and joined Ruth, neither one having had an opportunity of shooting at any other game. "Too bad you missed him, Bob; he was such a fine-looking specimen." "Did you see it, Ruth?" "Yes, it ran alongside of me." "What do you mean, it ran alongside of you?" asked Bob; "the last I saw of it, it was flying." "Flying!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why it ran along the ground just like a dog and had a big red bushy tail. I was sitting on a stump taking a rest when you fired. It came sneaking up the hill toward me, all the while watching you. It came up so close I could have put my hand out and touched it. It stopped right in, front of me for a minute or two and then ran off up over the ridge." "What are you talking about Ruth?" asked Bob. "The thing I shot at was a hawk and it flew through the air. It didn't run along the ground at all." "Oh," said Ruth, "what I saw must have been a fox, and, Bob, it stood just in front of me for a minute or two before it turned and went away." "If that's so why didn't you shoot it?" demanded Bob. "I was too excited. I never thought about shooting it." "Well, you lost an opportunity of a lifetime. You'll probably never get a chance to get a fox as easy as that again." "Please don't tell the folks at the house, Bob, that I had the buck fever--they'd never get through teasing me if they knew I'd let such a chance go by." They hunted all the rest of the morning, but got only three grey squirrels, of which Ruth shot two. A few days later, as Ruth was crossing the oat stubbles, she saw a small black and white animal skipping along through the stubbles just ahead of her. Thinking it was a kitten that had strayed from the house, she rushed after it and was almost ready to pick it up when she suddenly changed her mind and started for the house as fast as she could go. The dinner bell had rung and as Ruth came around the side of the house, her aunt and Edith, who were sitting on the porch, shouted in unison: "Go 'way! Go 'way! Go out to the barn. Where've you been?" "I tried to pick up a kitten out in the oat stubbles," confessed Ruth.