“Ha! that is not a turkey,” said Mr. Fox, as he came near and saw what Sharp Eyes had.
“No?” asked the little fox in surprise. “What is it then?”
“It’s a rooster,” said his father. “A great, big rooster that lives down on the farm where the ducks are,” for there were farms near the North Woods, though there were no cities. “Well do I know that rooster,” went on Mr. Fox. “Many a time, when I have been creeping up to get a chicken, he has seen me and crowed so loudly that the farmer came out with a gun to drive me away. And so you have caught him, Sharp Eyes!”
“Yes, but I thought he was a wild turkey like the one I saw before. I never have seen a rooster.”
“He is as good as a wild turkey to eat,” went on Mr. Fox. “You have had good luck. You have quick legs as well as sharp eyes. Now we shall not be hungry.”
So Mr. Fox carried the big rooster home to the other foxes in the hollow log. The bird would have been too heavy for Sharp Eyes, who was not yet full grown.
“Oh, what a fine dinner!” said Mrs. Fox, when she saw the rooster. “Who caught it?”
“Sharp Eyes did,” answered his father. “We ought to be quite proud of him!”
“I am,” said the little fox boy’s mother.
Then they had a rooster dinner, and Twinkle and Winkle listened as Sharp Eyes told how he had caught the fowl, thinking it was a wild turkey.
“Though when it said ‘Cock-a-doodle-do!’ instead of ‘Gobble-obble-obble,’ I thought it was funny,” said the little fox boy.
“You are a real fox now――you can go out and catch things for yourself,” said his father. “Now, Twinkle and Winkle, it is time you started in. To-morrow let us see what you can do.”
So the next day the three little foxes started off together on a hunting trip. At first they saw nothing, but, after a bit, they spied some wood mice and each caught one.
“They are not as big as a rooster or a wild turkey,” said Sharp Eyes, “but they will do for a start. We can’t catch big things every day.”
Twinkle and Winkle were quite delighted with the mice. They were the first things they had caught, except some grasshoppers, and they felt a little bit proud of themselves.
From then on the little foxes hunted every day. Twinkle and Winkle soon learned to do nearly as well as Sharp Eyes, but their brother could always see things in the woods before they could.