As soon as Nimble and Tumble saw how cozily Flip had settled himself, they dashed over and leaped, paws first, into the pile.
As Ereth looked on in dismay, the three foxes began to tumble joyfully, wrestling, snarling, and snapping at one another until the entire leaf pile that Ereth had shaped had become a complete mess. With leaves scattered everywhere, the den was worse than it had been before.
“Stop!” Ereth cried. “Stop!”
The kits, however, paid not the slightest attention to him, but continued their romp. A disgusted Ereth turned his back on them and went outside.
“Impossible,” he kept saying to himself. “Completely, totally impossible. I can’t do it. I just can’t. I’ve been with them only one day, but if this keeps up, I’ll be dead in a week.”
CHAPTER 16
Hunting
ERETH WAS STARING GLUMLY over the snowy field, trying to decide what to do next, when Nimble popped out of the hole.
“I’m ready,” she announced brightly.
“Ready for what?”
“Don’t you remember? You said hunting was to be my job.”
“Is the den cleaned up?”
“Oh, sure,” Nimble assured him. “Do you want to see?”
“No.”
“Okay. But if you want to teach me how to hunt, I’m ready to do it now.”
“Antelope uncles!” Ereth swore. “I told you, I don’t know anything about hunting.”
“I should be a good hunter,” Nimble said. “My mother was. And my father’s really, really great.”
Ereth looked around. “You have any idea when this father of yours is coming back?”
“Nope,” Nimble said earnestly. “He just comes and goes. He’s a very busy fox.”
“Busy at what?”
Nimble’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting he isn’t busy?”
Ereth decided not to pursue the matter. Instead he asked, “Where do you usually hunt?”
“Right down along the bluff here. Mom always said we mustn’t go too far. Should I go then?” Nimble asked.
Ereth was about to say yes, when he thought about the human hunters’ traps. “I’d better go with you,” he announced.
“Great!” Nimble bounded off.
“Don’t go so fast!” Ereth shouted after the fox, as his short legs struggled to carry him through the snow, over the rocks, and around the boulders.
Pausing, Nimble looked around and grinned to see how awkward Ereth was.
After much panting and scowling, Ereth caught up with the young fox. “Listen here, flea brain, your legs are a lot longer than mine. So keep it down to a decent crawl.”
“I will. But—” She stopped speaking suddenly.
“What is it?” Ereth asked.
“I smell something.”
“What? Where?”
“Right down there at the bottom,” Nimble whispered.
Ereth looked, but could see nothing.
The young fox made her way down the face of the bluff, pointing her nose now this way, now that, sniffing.
Suddenly she froze. With her belly low to the ground, she stretched out to her full length.
“Be careful!” Ereth cautioned.
“Shhh!” Nimble replied. Tail stiff behind her, the young fox moved one step at a time, all but slithering toward whatever it was she had detected.
Ereth, trying to keep his eye on the kit but feeling more clumsy than ever, struggled hard to catch up, skidding and slipping over the rough terrain.
Below, Nimble prepared to pounce.
Suddenly, Ereth broke through the snow, only to strike a patch of rocks and boulders. His legs went out from beneath him. As he tried to right himself he caused a small landslide. Rocks and snow cascaded past the fox. One rock popped up into the air. It came down in front of Nimble’s nose.
No sooner did the stone hit the snow than two jaws of steel rose up and snapped together, clamping on the rock with a horrifying metallic clack!
“Don’t move!” Ereth screamed.
A baffled Nimble came up out of her crouch and stared at the object. “What . . . what is it?” she asked.
Ereth, heart hammering, shouted, “It’s a trap! Don’t breathe! Don’t think!”
Nimble leaned forward and sniffed.
“Didn’t you hear me, you busted bottle of chicken clots? There may be other traps near you.” Moving with great caution, Ereth inched toward the exposed trap, his small black eyes looking this way and that.
“But . . . what’s a trap?” Nimble asked.
“It’s . . . made . . . by humans,” Ereth said, struggling to get his breath back. “To catch . . . animals like you and me. It’s what caught your mother. That’s what killed her.”
Nimble’s eyes grew very big. “Oh,” she said.
Ereth leaned forward toward the sprung trap. It had a hard, oily reek that turned his stomach. When he thought of their walk last night from one den to the other—and Nimble’s pursuit of a vole—it made him feel faint to realize how lucky they had been.
Nimble came forward and sniffed at the trap again. “But . . . but it smells like good food,” she said, still baffled.
“That’s the bait,” Ereth said. “And there are fourteen more of them.”
“Oh, dear,” Nimble said. In a small voice she said, “Where?”
“That’s just the point, pug pill! I don’t know!” Ereth was so upset he was shouting.
“But . . . why are you so angry at me?” Nimble asked, backing away.
“I am not angry at you!” Ereth screamed. “I’m angry at the whole world!”
“But . . . does that mean we can’t go . . . anywhere?”
“It means we have to be super careful. The snow makes everything worse. You can’t see anything. You’ll have to think! Get it? For once in your life you’re going to have to use your brindled bit of baby brain.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“You’re a child!” Ereth raged on. “It’s the same thing. And I’m the one who has to take care of you!”
“No, you don’t.”
“No? If I hadn’t thrown that rock right there, you would have never seen that trap.”
“You didn’t throw it, you fell, and it rolled down,” Nimble pointed out. “It was nothing but stupid luck.”
“Never mind luck! There are other traps around. Waiting to grab you. I can’t be easy until we get them all.”
“But . . . but how do we do that?”
“That’s the point, elbow eyes!” Ereth screeched in frustration. “I don’t know!” He turned away to hide the angry tears in his eyes. “All I know is that I have to do something. Fast!”
CHAPTER 17
Traps
ERETH AND THE THREE
