by Colin Dann
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
1 News
2 Developments
3 A Warning
4 First Blood
5 Out of Bounds
6 Some Support
7 The Result of Thoughtlessness
8 A Snake in the Grass
9 A Wild Sort of Day
10 A Council of War
11 Bold and Cunning
12 Death of a Fox
13 A Matter of Heart
14 Adder at Bay
15 Caught Off Guard
16 The Attack
17 Underground
18 A Battle
19 By the Stream
20 The Next Generation
21 Retribution
22 A Snake Under Water
23 Loss and Gain
24 A Singular Discussion
25 Cubs Apart
26 The Animals of White Deer Park
About the Author
Copyright
About the Book
It was Fox who found her. Vixen heard his cry – an angry, baffled cry of distress. She found him standing over the body of Dreamer. She was dead . . .
The fox cub Dreamer has been killed in a vicious attack, and the animals in White Deer Park have no doubt who is responsible. The old fox Scarface, feeling his position threatened by the new arrivals, has lashed out savagely at a defenceless cub.
Fox vows revenge. But are he and his young family a match for the formidable strength of Scarface and his clan? Yet again the animals must band together to avert disaster.
Another gripping adventure of the animals of Farthing Wood by award-winning author Colin Dann.
For Deborah
One day during the first spring in White Deer Park, Badger was visited by an excited Mole.
‘Badger! Badger!’ he called, as he dug his way into the darkness of his old friend’s set. ‘Have you heard the news?’
‘News? News? No, no, I haven’t heard any news,’ replied Badger a little peevishly. He sometimes felt he was a little neglected in his underground home.
‘It’s Vixen!’ declared Mole, beaming. ‘She’s had four cubs. Fox is so proud! Oh, you should see them . . .’
‘When was this?’ Badger interrupted. ‘Why hasn’t Fox been to see me?’
‘They were only born last night,’ Mole explained. ‘Tawny Owl told me all about it. I went to visit them at once. Oh! Badger, you must come. Why don’t we go together now?’
‘Certainly, if you’re sure it would be convenient,’ replied Badger. ‘Nothing I’d like more.’
‘Of course it is,’ said Mole. ‘Fox instructed me to come and give you the news straight away.’
It was Badger’s turn to beam then, and the two animals hastened out of the set, chatting cheerfully.
It was a crisp, sunny spring morning in the Park. A plentiful dew had soaked the ground and each blade of grass and clump of moss glistened refreshingly. Badger sniffed the air briskly. ‘It’s going to be a wonderful day,’ he pronounced.
He and Mole left the little beech copse where Badger had constructed his new set, and directed their steps to another group of trees, in the midst of which lay Fox’s earth. In no time Mole’s velvet coat was soaked by the dew.
‘What a state to arrive in, as a visitor,’ he complained. ‘Badger, you go on. I must make myself more presentable.’
Badger chuckled and trotted ahead. At the entrance to the earth he paused to listen. There were voices inside. ‘Er – hallo,’ he called down hesitantly. ‘Fox! It’s me – Badger. Can I come in?’
The voices ceased for a moment, and then Fox’s head appeared at the entrance. ‘Badger! How nice to see you. Mole told you the news? We’re so thrilled. Come along, old friend.’
Badger followed him down with an expectant smile. He found Vixen curled up on a bed of soft hair, with four tiny, fluffy creatures huddled around her. A warm, truly motherly expression lit up her face. Badger’s kind old heart melted at the sight. He was at a loss for words. ‘This is a happy day indeed,’ he murmured. ‘May they have a more peaceful life than we have known.’ He looked at Fox.
‘Thank you, Badger,’ said Vixen quietly. ‘I hope so too.’
‘Er – will they be foxes or vixens?’ Badger enquired a little awkwardly.
‘Two male, two female,’ Fox replied promptly. ‘They’ll keep us busy, the four of them, once their eyes have opened.’
‘Yes, they certainly look a healthy bunch,’ Badger remarked. ‘And it’s good to see you looking so well, Vixen.’ He paused. ‘Well, I won’t intrude too long,’ he resumed. ‘I expect you want to be on your own.’
Fox made some polite remarks, but Badger was determined not to outstay his welcome.
‘I’ll come back again, if I may, in a few days,’ he promised. Fox accompanied him to the exit.
On his way back to his set, Badger came across Mole basking on top of a hillock in an effort to dry his fur. ‘The cubs were all you said they were,’ he said to his friend. ‘I must admit, on seeing that cosy little group in Fox’s earth, I felt a few regrets for a family life.’
‘Well, Badger, it’s never too late,’ Mole said comfortingly. ‘You must get lonely in your set, all by yourself.’
‘I am at times,’ Badger agreed. ‘But – no, I’m too old and stubborn in my ways to share my home with any female. I do sometimes feel homesick for my old set in Farthing Wood. Of course, I had my memories there – my family lived there for generations. Here it’s different . . .’
Mole cut in quickly before Badger could wax maudlin. ‘It’s like a new beginning,’ he observed. ‘The cubs will have their father’s characteristics – or some of them. The spirit of Farthing Wood will be renewed – here.’
‘Don’t get carried away, Mole,’ Badger cautioned. ‘Farthing Wood will be only a name to them, and life in Farthing Wood as it was for us and Fox and the rest of the band, will be only a story for them to listen to. Here in the Park they’ll never know the difficulties and the dangers that were always part of our life there.’
‘That’s so,’ Mole agreed. ‘But that’s no bad thing, is it, Badger?’
‘No – except that, in the face of any danger, they may not be so well equipped for survival.’
Mole pondered this idea for some time, recalling the viciousness of the past winter in the Park. At length he said: ‘I’m sure Fox will ensure they will be able to look after themselves.’
Badger smiled. ‘What about you, my friend?’ he teased. ‘You’re young. Are you ready yet for a more serious role in life?’
Mole blinked in the unaccustomed brightness of the sunlight. ‘I don’t often think about it,’ he answered. ‘But I should like to be settled and happy one day.’
Badger was true to his word and revisited the fox cubs a week or so later. Their eyes were now open and they seemed to be taking a lively interest in everything that went on inside their comfortable earth, which was still the only world they knew. The arrival of Badger was an occasion for the greatest excitement until their father returned with a selection of choice titbits from his evening hunting foray for Vixen. Although the cubs were still suckling, they watched inquisitively as Vixen daintily accepted the food from Fox’s jaws.
Badger was amused to see one of them, already slightly larger than his fellows, totter forward to nose at his parents. ‘He’ll be their leader,’ remarked the wise old animal. ‘That’s plain to see.’
Vixen nodded. ‘He’ll follow in his father’s footsteps.’ she remarked. ‘The other male cub is not so sure of himself.’
‘But the little vixens are charming,’ Fox interrupted. ‘Just like their mother.’
A noise outside the den a
ttracted their attention. Weasel came towards them out of the early morning daylight.
‘There’s a strange fox snooping about up there,’ he said. ‘A big male with a long scar down his muzzle. He seems to be very curious about what might be happening in your den.’
‘I’ve seen him around several times,’ Fox said. ‘I don’t like the look of him, and I’ve asked Tawny Owl to keep an eye on the den when I’m out hunting.’
‘What does he want?’ Badger asked with a serious expression.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Fox. ‘We may find out one day. He’s lived in the Reserve a good number of years – that I do know – and he and his mate have produced many a litter of cubs to populate White Deer Park. I think Vixen and I may be looked upon rather as intruders on his preserve.’ All this was said out of earshot of Vixen.
‘I asked what his business was here,’ Weasel informed his two friends, ‘and he replied that the whole of White Deer Park was his business, and who was I to question him?’
‘Dear, dear, Weasel, do be careful,’ advised Badger, cautious as ever. ‘We don’t want any misunderstandings with the Park’s older residents. Most of them were probably born here, you know.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Weasel answered quickly. ‘I keep myself to myself. But I have noticed, since the winter was over, that the acclaim Fox attracted from the residents for his defeat of the poachers seems to have soured slightly.’
‘Are we resented, do you think?’ Badger asked with a concerned look.
‘Not exactly,’ replied Weasel. ‘But I think there are those here among the Park’s original community who feel we ought to recognize our position here as newcomers more clearly than we do. And one of them is our friend Scarface out there.’
‘In other words, it’s more their home than ours?’ Badger summarized.
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, they accepted us readily enough to begin with,’ Fox remarked. ‘I don’t think there’s any real ill feeling. But, I suggest, Badger, we should get everyone together in the Hollow one night soon and talk about the situation. Perhaps it would be as well for us to tread extra warily for a while.’
Badger and Weasel wholeheartedly agreed with Fox’s advice and, accordingly, took their leave of Vixen. The scarfaced fox was no longer around when they left Fox’s earth and they went their own ways quietly.
Two days elapsed and then all the creatures of Farthing Wood met at dusk in their habitual meeting place in the Hollow.
It was the first meeting of all the creatures from Farthing Wood since the winter, and so it was clear to all of them that it was to be of some importance.
‘It seems,’ began Fox, ‘that one or two of you have noticed an undercurrent of – er – unfriendliness running through some of White Deer Park’s inhabitants. Now we don’t want to find ourselves looked upon as intruders, and I wanted to caution you all to be particularly careful in your behaviour towards the native animals in the future – until things seem quieter again.’
‘The Park animals seem to think we have encroached rather on their territory, I believe,’ Rabbit remarked.
‘That could be true in the case of you rabbits,’ suggested Weasel wryly. ‘There are so many more of you now than there were when we arrived at the Reserve last summer, despite your losses during the winter.’
Some of the animals laughed but Rabbit was not amused. ‘We’re not the only ones to have increased our numbers,’ he said indignantly. ‘What about the hedgehogs? And Toad left his mark in the pond. Even Fox and Vixen now have a family.’
‘No offence meant, Rabbit,’ Weasel assured him. ‘But I think you might have been right about the question of territory. There are certain rights respecting that, after all.’
‘Humph! Lot of nonsense!’ snorted Tawny Owl. ‘Plenty of space for everyone. There aren’t that many of us.’
‘Have you encountered any difficulties, Toad?’ Fox asked him.
‘No, no,’ Toad shook his head. ‘Of course, the frogs have known me a long time,’ he said, referring to his first visit to the Park. ‘They accept me in their pond with the utmost friendliness but, you see, I don’t see many of the other creatures. My small legs don’t carry me so far as some of you larger fellows.’
The animals chortled at this remark of Toad’s, recalling the epic journey he had made alone from White Deer Park across miles of country to return to his home pond in Farthing Wood.
He smiled at their mirth. ‘Well, my travelling days are done now, anyhow,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t relish the prospect of our moving to a third home.’
‘No question of it,’ Fox assured him hurriedly. ‘White Deer Park is our home now. It’s a Nature Reserve and we’ve as much right to be protected as those that were born here.’
‘Well said, Fox,’ murmured the sardonic Adder, ‘and may I say, from one carnivore to another, I find the irony delicious.’
Fox looked somewhat embarrassed at this unexpected comment, but Badger came to his rescue.
‘It’s the Law of Nature, Adder,’ he reminded him, ‘and that is unalterable. We can’t all be grass-eaters.’
‘Of course not,’ drawled Adder, ‘especially when there are so much choicer items available.’ He leered at the mice, who ignored him totally. They knew perfectly well their common Farthing Wood background meant they were quite safe from the snake’s intentions, and that he seemed to feel that such remarks were expected of him.
Hare said: ‘My surviving youngster has grown up here. Leveret barely remembers Farthing Wood, so he’s far more familiar with the Park’s surroundings. The native hares seem to look upon him almost as if he, too, had been born here. He certainly mixes quite freely.’
‘I wonder if there are any grounds for apprehension at all,’ Kestrel remarked airily.
‘Not in your case, certainly,’ Vole rasped. ‘You spend more time patrolling the countryside outside the Park than you do within its confines.’
‘Have you ever thought there might be a reason for that?’ Kestrel chided him gently. ‘If I always hunted inside the Park, there is a very great danger that some time I might kill the wrong vole or fieldmouse. Small creatures like you look very alike when I’m hovering high up in the sky.’
‘That had certainly occurred to me,’ Fieldmouse assented. ‘But, well, you know Vole doesn’t always see things so clearly.’
‘I must apologize, Kestrel,’ Vole said contritely. ‘I should have realized you had our interests at heart.’
‘Well, well, no harm done,’ said Badger the peacemaker. ‘Er – is there any more to be said, Fox? This wind is beginning to get very chilly.’
‘No more for the present, I think,’ said Fox. ‘We must all be on our guard for a bit, that’s all. I think we should all remain in our corner of the Park for the time being also. That way, if anyone needs to raise the alarm at any time we are in a position to act together quickly.’
At this point Whistler the heron flexed his great wings, producing the familiar shrill sound as the air rushed through the bullet-hole in his damaged one. ‘Perhaps a few more of you should have done as I,’ he announced in his lugubrious tones, ‘and mated with a member of the indigenous population. There can be no swifter way of achieving acceptance amongst a foreign community.’
About three weeks after the meeting in the Hollow, the fox cubs could be seen playing with their parents in the spring sunshine outside their earth. One day Tawny Owl was watching them, sleepily, from a nearby willow tree. He noticed that, although none of them strayed far from a convenient bolt-hole to the den, one cub was slightly more adventurous in his wanderings. His small, chocolate brown body was cobby and healthy looking, as indeed were those of his brother and sisters, but his infant frame seemed to be just a little stouter.
‘He’s going to be a bold young fellow,’ Tawny Owl mused to himself. ‘Never still for a moment. Now the others are quite happy to sit at times, and just enjoy the warmth of the sun on their bodies.’ He chuckled at their antics
. ‘Yes, one in particular seems very fond of that.’
Vixen spotted the bird half-dozing on the branch. ‘Won’t you join us, Owl?’ she invited. ‘Or are you too sleepy?’.
‘Nothing of the kind, nothing of the kind,’ Tawny Owl replied huffily and promptly flew to the ground.
Fox greeted him cheerfully. ‘Glad to see you, Owl,’ he said. ‘Well, it looks as if our fears were groundless. Old Scarface has not been near recently.’
‘No. I expect he’s occupied in much the same way as you at present,’ Tawny Owl observed knowingly.
‘Oh? Is he a father again?’ Fox asked quickly.
‘Oh yes. His mate produced three cubs about the same time as Vixen.’
‘Have you seen them?’ Vixen wanted to know.
‘Not yet,’ replied the bird. ‘I don’t venture over to that section of the Park since our agreement in the Hollow. However,’ he added archly, ‘I’m sure they couldn’t be as delightful as yours, dear Vixen.’
‘Oh, flatterer!’ she laughed. ‘This one we call Charmer actually.’ She indicated one of the female cubs. ‘She has very winning ways. Her sister is Dreamer.’
‘Very appropriate,’ agreed Tawny Owl, noticing the cub thus named was the one he had singled out from his perch. ‘And the others?’
‘The big male cub is Bold,’ Fox told him with more than a hint of pride in his voice. ‘But we haven’t as yet found anything quite applicable to describe his brother.’
‘I daresay it’ll suggest itself before long,’ said Tawny Owl.
‘Oh yes,’ Vixen agreed. ‘They all have their own personalities.’
At that moment the cub in question chose to investigate the family’s visitor and approached the owl, wagging his little tail.
‘Already as big as me,’ Tawny Owl said with amusement. The little cub sat down directly next to him and commenced to sniff him all over. Finally he lay down over Tawny Owl’s talons and sighed deeply.
‘I think this one’s just named himself,’ the owl remarked. ‘At any rate, I shall call him Friendly.’
‘An excellent name,’ Fox assented. ‘Don’t you think so, dear?’
