There was plenty of work to do. Soon Peter set out to visit a line of traps to the south, and the boys went through the woods northwest to look at other traps. They came to the frozen bed of a little stream and a couple of beaver traps. There were no animals there. Perhaps the night had been too cold to tempt them from their homes. "I shouldn't think any animals would have gone prowling round last night," said Sam. "I know I wouldn't," said Jack, "if I was a beaver." They pushed on through the woods until they came to an open pasture. They had started across it when they heard a crow calling overhead. "Must be a fox somewhere about," whispered Jack. "Let's see if we can find him, even if we haven't got our guns." They went back to the edge of the woods, making as little noise as they could, for they knew that a fox depends more on his ears than on his eyes. They stopped behind the trees and after a few minutes saw a big gray fox trotting slowly along the edge of the woods. Dropping to their knees the boys crept forward to a hummock and hid back of it. The fox stood still, looked about, and then started at a slow gait across the meadow. The fox was more than a hundred yards away from the boys when Jack began to squeak like a meadow-mouse. No Indian or hunter could have heard the sound at half that distance, but the air was very still and Jack knew the fox's big ears were very sharp. True enough, the fox did hear it, and stopping, looked around. Again Jack gave the squeak of the meadow-mouse. The fox came leaping lightly over the frozen hassocks of the meadow toward the two hidden boys. Every few yards he would stop and cock his ears over the long grass to listen. Each time he did this Jack squeaked, lower and lower each time, and every time the fox came on again, more and more cautiously, as if he were afraid of frightening the game he was hunting. The fox got within fifty yards, and from there the boys, crouching behind their hummock, were in plain view of him. The fox looked sharply, distrustingly at the hummock. Had either boy moved his head or arm the fraction of an inch the fox would have shot off like an arrow to the woods. Neither did move, however. Jack waited until he judged from the fox's attitude and the set of his ears that his suspicions were vanishing, and then he squeaked again, very faintly now. The fox bounded on, almost up to the hummock. Then he stopped short, and the boys could see from the look on his shrewd face that he judged something was wrong. Instead of coming on he circled round to the left, trusting to his nose rather than to his eyes. Jack squeaked, but the fox went on circling; it was plain he meant to come no farther. "What's the matter, old boy?" said Jack softly. At the sound of Jack's voice the fox sprang up into the air and then bounded away to the edge of the woods, where he stopped a minute to look back and then disappeared behind the trees.