On The Run She stood there poised with one leg in half step, ears pricked. She heard the distant hoot of bugles and the barking of dogs. She had been through the ordeal more times than she cared to remember. Each time though, she had been lucky, and afterwards had boasted to the other vixens.

The sound of the hunting party had not bothered her. She was much more worried for her cubs. They were just beginning to wander around a little. She picked up her kill, a dead mouse, and took it back to her den. There she licked her cubs clean, as if a sign of endearment. Then she dragged some sticks and leaves to cover the entrance.

She waited until the dogs were within a mile of her; then she darted off into the brush. Within a, few minutes she heard a great din, of barking and bugling - they must picked up her scent. She kept ahead of the dogs almost without effort, but she was now becoming weary. She was very cunning once she got to the river, she crossed it and re-crossed it several times to tire the dogs. The ragged, weary baying of the dogs continued.

It seemed that the dogs were far ahead of the hunters, on horse-back. But she was even, further ahead of, the dogs, and so she began to walk. Her mind flicked back to previous chases. She hated men and most of all the dogs. She knew that not all men were mean. For once she was trapped in a cage and someone had freed her and given her food, but that was a long time ago. Suddenly, she realised that the dogs were only fifty yards or so behind her. She ran further into the brush, but tripped up and lost valuable time. She knew now that she would never escape. Instead of wasting energy, she would have to fight.

The dogs were now almost in sight, running silently. She stood waiting for them, facing back along the line of her tracks. They came over a little rise, saw her, stopped short and began to howl. She stretched her head forward and growled at them; the essence of all deadly hate and loathing was contained in the sound. She began to back away from them waiting and watching for a move. They had become quiet now. Suddenly two leapt forward, but instantly her bared teeth threatened them, her eyes glared into theirs.

Little by little they grew bolder. One jumped in and, slashed at her face. She crippled him, but another sprang in at the same moment and slashed at her haunches. She turned to kill him, and the others closed in. There was a storm of slashing, snarling jaws. She fought savagely, hurling herself at the dogs. One dog slashed at her throat; she then seized his, but that was the end. She died with her jaws still locked in the dog's throat. Long, savage teeth tore the hide from her flesh, and crushed her bones.

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