# Redcoat/Redcoat and His American Cousins

Probably there is no more cunning, or clever, wild animal in the entire domain of nature, than the ordinary red fox, who, by the way is not ordinary, but very extraordinary, in his native ability and habits of life.
He has lived so long within the domain of man, and often in thickly settled country, and has so long fought his enemies, both boy, and man, and dog, and fought the fight against guns, traps, and poison, that he would long ago have perished off the earth had not his wits been of the keenest, and his fleetness very remarkable as well.
So skilful is the fox in evading those who would get a glimpse of him, that nine tenths of the people who live upon his range, have never seen him in the wild, although he may frequent the farm daily, or even occasionally ​trot down the main village street in the small hours of the early morning.
The fox about which I am going to write, and the one which is most familiar to my readers, is the Red Fox, whose range is throughout the northern part of the United States and Canada.
His color is a variety of shades of red, and rarely are two red foxes marked alike.
Although the novice seeing the fox at a distance would say that he is as large as a fair sized dog, yet when he is stripped of his long warm coat, he is the slightest built animal that I know of. The very lankiest greyhound is heavy and cumbersome compared with him. His little legs which carry him for hours over the roughest country, keeping him out of the reach of hounds which weigh five times as much as he does, are no larger than a lead pencil. His head which holds such a fertile brain, is fairly snakey, while his greatest girth is not much more than a man's wrist.
There is not an ounce of fat on him. His muscles are like whipcord.
​He thinks like lightning, and then acts like chain lightning.
In a fight with a dog he always draws the first blood, and although he is no match for a gritty dog when cornered, yet he often beats off dogs several times his size, by his shear grit and seeming fearlessness.
The fox that is most closely associated with red fox is his first cousin, the cross fox. His range is throughout western British Columbia, and Alaska, and also in Utah and Idaho. Cross fox is a cross between the red fox and the black fox.
He has a dark colored cross on his shoulders, a steel gray body and head, a big black tail with a snow white tip, and black legs.
The swift fox is the smallest of all the foxes, and probably not much swifter than the rest of the family. He is found on the great plains of the Rio Grande up to Saskatchewan, and his color is a beautiful silver gray with a tinge of yellow.
The Arctic fox is snow white during the cold months, while in the summer he is some​times brown. He ranges the farthest north of all the foxes. He is often found well above the Arctic circle.
The blue fox is the most tractable of all the foxes, and has been successfully raised on the islands of Behring Sea, where there are forty companies raising blue foxes merely for pelts. He can be easily caught in a wire box trap, and then tamed and handled almost as freely as one would a dog.
Yet the blue fox is the homeliest of all this beautiful family. His ears are short cropped, and his head is rounder than other foxes while his countenance is covered with bristly hair, giving him a grotesque appearance.
The white fox of the south is another member of the fox family.
But black fox, who ranges through Saskatchewan and British Columbia, and all through Alaska, is the most important of all. Think of wearing a coat worth nearly three thousand dollars and having men and boys, with traps, poison, and guns, all after ​it. It is certainly a case of being cumbered with a priceless possession.
The black fox is also called the silver gray, because the tips of his hair are usually just touched with silver, which makes him sometimes look silver gray.
This rare fellow is also being successfully raised for the market, and many men whom I know, have made fortunes raising this wonderful animal.
But be the fox red, cross, black or white, he always retains certain fox characteristics. He is always that nimble witted fleet fellow who fights the battle of life as only a fox can, and always gives a good account of himself, from his own point of view.
Not only is he fleet and beautiful, as well as swift and cunning, but in many ways he so nearly approaches the way of man, that the adjective "foxy" is very often applied to man, meaning a resourceful, quick witted man, one who always takes advantage of all the breaks in the game.
One of the most beautiful scenes in the wilderness, and one that many woodsmen ​have not seen, is to behold a fox, standing with one forepaw partly lifted, with his head cocked on one side, his tail partly curled about his hind quarters, listening for mice in the grass. This picture is the last word in wild life.
From Æsop down, men have told of the wit and wisdom of the fox, and their praise has not gone to his head, nor dulled his wits, for he still carries on amid the haunts of his worst enemy, man. He barks defiance at the farm dog from a distant wall, and eludes him usually as a rabbit would a tortoise.
Some men and boys always shoot at him when they get sight of him, but for my part, I rather admire this clever freebooter, who flaunts his beautiful brush in the very face of man, and still wears it to the end of the chapter.