A lynx cat with tufted ears and big furry pads on his feet thrust his head from behind a drift. He, too, had forsaken the twilight of the spruce country, which was his natural home. He blinked his eyes before the glare of the sun and stared at the pair of coyotes and the little fox. His nose twitched hungrily. He seldom ventured far from the green dusk of the forest but he had eaten only one small morsel in two days, a field mouse dug from the roots of a dead aspen tree. His green eyes fixed on the little fox and he shifted his padded feet nervously. He had feasted on fox before and the stringy meat was to his liking. At the same moment the fox’s sharp eyes and pointed nose discovered the lynx cat. Turning, the sly one raced over the crust toward his burrow in the thicket. The lynx cat bounded over the snow, cutting across to head the fox away from his hole. The little fox ran swiftly but he had a greater distance to go. The cat closed in swiftly and the fox whirled to face him. The lynx arched his back and circled slowly around his intended victim. He knew the fox had deadly fangs and that he would use them. The sly one was shy and timid but he could fight when cornered. The air was filled with the yowling and spitting of the lynx and the snarling of the fox. Both coyotes sat up and watched. Midnight and the big buck jerked up their heads and stared at the battlers. The old buck sniffed the cat scent and made off along his trail to the timber. Midnight stood still. He was afraid but did not know what to do. The big lynx cat circled a second time. He was cautious even though he was desperately hungry. With a lightning movement he leaped at the fox, who was crouched down with his chest on the snow. The fox leaped to meet him and slashed at him savagely. A big tuft of hair from the cat’s neck scruff sailed high and floated to the snow. The cat backed away spitting, his big feet planted wide apart. When the lynx leaped back the little fox whirled and raced for the timber. He had tricked the cat and his red tongue lolled out over his white teeth very much as though he was laughing at his clumsy antagonist. The lynx bounded after him and the fox whirled again. Again the fox made a stand and the dweller of the spruce twilight circled around him. Again the lynx leaped and was met by the lashing fangs of the slim hunter of mice. The cat leaped back and red drops of blood dotted the snow. Both times his lashing paws had missed the dodging, weaving fox. The fox whirled and ran, this time almost to his thicket. The lynx bounded upon him and he whirled, his brush sweeping across the glistening snow.