Underneath the outspread wings of the chicken was the open trap, and as soon as Sharp Eyes’ paw touched the spring, snap! shut went the jaws of the trap, catching him fast there. It was the jaws of the trap pressing on Sharp Eyes’ paw that hurt him.
“Oh, if I could only get away!” said the little fox boy to himself. “If I can only get away I’ll never jump at a chicken again, without looking first to make sure there’s no trap!”
But it was too late to think of that now. Sharp Eyes was caught, and every time he pulled his leg it hurt him so that he soon stopped.
“Red Tail was right,” he whispered to himself. “He said something would happen to me some day, and it has. Oh dear!”
Sharp Eyes kept quiet as long as he could, and then his paw pained him so that he had to cry out. But he cried very softly. Then he called for his father and mother, using fox language, of course.
But they did not answer him, for they were far away.
“Twinkle! Winkle! Can’t you come and help me out of the trap?” barked the little fox boy, held fast, all alone in the woods, near the dead chicken.
But neither Twinkle nor Winkle answered. They, too, were far away. They were off hunting with their father and mother, and though they wondered where Sharp Eyes was, they thought he was safe.
“Sharp Eyes can take care of himself,” said his mother.
“But I hope the hunters or trappers don’t get him and take his lovely, silver fur,” said Winkle. If they could only have known what had happened to poor Sharp Eyes they would surely have gone to help him, wouldn’t they?
“But I _must_ get away,” thought Sharp Eyes. “If I stay in this trap much longer the hunter will come and get me. Or his dogs will come and bite me! Oh, I must get loose!”
So he pulled and tugged away to get out of the trap, but his foot hurt him more and more and he had to stop.
Sharp Eyes was in such pain, and so troubled about what might happen to him, that he did not even feel like eating some of the chicken, though he had been hungry a little while before. Now his appetite was all gone.
The little fox did not know what to do. He called again for his father and his mother, and for Twinkle and Winkle, but none of them came. Then, all at once, there was a noise in the bushes, and something seemed to be coming toward Sharp Eyes where he was caught fast in the trap.