It was a fox. How he did run when he saw us! We ran after him, and chased him into a pile of rails, in one corner of the camp.
You see, the soldiers had torn down all the fences, and piled them up for fire-wood. The fox ran right in among the rails; and, the more he tried to get out, the more he couldn't.
"A fox, a fox!" we shouted; hearing which, all the men, like so many boys, rushed up, and made themselves into a circle around the wood-pile, so that poor foxy was completely hemmed in.
Then a few of us went to work, and removed the rails one by one, until at last he was clear, and we could all see him. With a bound, he tried to get away; but the men kept their legs very close together, and he was a prisoner. We got one of the tent-ropes and tried to tie him.

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