by Colin Dann
Back in Badger’s deepest chamber, the animals hardly dared to breathe. They felt that the artful Scarface would be listening for the slightest sound. The smaller creatures’ nerves were stretched to breaking point but, for the sake of all, they tried to hold on.
After what seemed an eternity a scuffling noise was heard, and they knew that one of the enemy had entered the set. The noise came nearer. Fox tensed himself, ready to spring on the animal.
‘Is anyone there?’ whispered a voice in the darkness.
No one replied.
‘Charmer? Are you there?’ came the voice again.
‘Father, it’s Ranger,’ whispered Charmer. ‘Perhaps he’s come to help.’
‘Help?’ hissed Fox. ‘He’s the arch-villain in this raid. Help? Yes, he helped his father all right, telling him to strike in the daylight. But if he comes any closer I’ll make sure he’s no help to anyone again!’
‘No, Father, please,’ moaned Charmer. ‘Let me talk to him. He’ll listen to me.’
Before Fox could stop her, she had run out of the chamber towards Ranger. ‘Here I am,’ she said. ‘It’s me-Charmer.’
Fox rushed after her. ‘Get outside before I kill you,’ he threatened Ranger.
‘You don’t understand,’ came the reply. ‘I offered to be the first to look round here.’
‘Of course you did,’ said Fox. ‘You’ll want all the credit for finding us.’
‘No! No!’ said Ranger vehemently. ‘You’ve got me all wrong. I’ll tell my father the set’s unoccupied.’
But before Fox could register his surprise at these words, a sneering voice cried down the tunnel: ‘The game’s up, my friend. You and your cronies are trapped. The set is completely encircled. Ranger, come out! I want no clashes down there. We’ll fight them in the open when we’ve starved them out!’
Ranger turned this way and that, torn between obedience to his father and his feelings for Charmer.
‘I believe I’ve wronged you, my young friend,’ Fox said to him. ‘Go back outside now. I won’t have your father’s wrath turned against you.’
Ranger turned unwillingly to leave the set. He felt he was leaving his heart behind him. ‘Whatever happens, you have one opponent less,’ he told them, ‘for I’ll do no fighting.’
Fox and Charmer went back to the chamber.
‘I’m afraid we’re surrounded,’ Fox said simply.
‘We’ll die here! We’ll die here!’ wailed one of the female fieldmice.
‘Not if I can help it,’ Fox answered her quietly. ‘I propose to see just what that scarfaced killer is made of. It’s me he really wants dead. Well, he can try his strength against me, but in a fair fight. I shall challenge him to single combat.’
There was an excited buzz of conversation in the set as Fox crept into the tunnel and vigorously shook himself in preparation. Vixen followed him worriedly.
‘Must you do this, dearest?’ she asked him.
‘It’s our only hope,’ answered her mate. ‘If we stay here we shall all be slaughtered or starved to death.’
‘But Scarface is treachery itself,’ Vixen urged. ‘You can’t trust him. Even if he should accept your challenge, he might set the others on you if you showed signs of winning.’
Fox smiled gently at her. ‘I know you are concerned for me and, were it just you and me, things might be different. But I must take this risk for the others’ sake.’
‘Oh, why must they always depend on you?’ she whispered fiercely. But she knew Fox would not be budged.
He answered: ‘It was my quarrel in the first place. I’m doing no more than my duty.’
Then she watched him go out into the sunlight.
At Fox’s appearance Scarface yapped in triumph. But there was no movement towards him as yet. Only Tawny Owl and Whistler flew to a closer perch, while Kestrel hovered low in the air, ready to swoop down if necessary.
Fox looked at Scarface steadily and then his glance turned to the other assembled throng, who were fidgeting nervously. He noticed Ranger had placed himself well back in the rear.
‘You have come in strength, I see,’ said Fox coolly. ‘Do you need all these to overcome me?’
‘You have your followers also,’ Scarface growled.
‘No.’ Fox shook his head. ‘No followers – only friends.’
‘Oh yes – your precious friends. Well, today they are going to regret they ever were your friends.’
‘You have no dispute with them,’ Fox said. ‘It is me you fear.’
Scarface’s eyes blazed. ‘Fear?’ he barked. ‘You talk to me of fear? I didn’t acquire these scars by being afraid. I fear nothing!’
‘An idle boast,’ Fox answered provokingly. ‘I say you fear me; and I believe your fear has governed all your actions since I first came to the Park.’
Scarface tensed himself and seemed about to spring on the taunting Fox, who watched him through narrowing eyes. But then his body relaxed again. ‘You are clever,’ he said. ‘I see what game you’re playing.’
‘Game?’ Fox queried. ‘I haven’t come to play, but to fight.’
The tribe of foxes began to mill about, murmuring to each other. It was clear their confidence did not match their leader’s.
‘You are an arrogant creature,’ Scarface replied with a cynical grin. ‘You would set yourself against the whole pack?’
‘Not I,’ said Fox. ‘Why would I wish to fight them? Only you have made yourself my enemy.’
‘Oh, so you wish to fight me?’ Scarface chuckled.
‘To settle this issue once and for all – yes.’
‘You’re a cool customer, I’ll give you that. But, you see, the odds are against you.’
‘I believe we have an even chance,’ Fox replied, ‘in a fair fight.’
Scarface fell silent. He seemed to have fallen into a trap. If he should refuse the fight, he would be taken for a coward. He looked up with a grim smile. ‘Why do you offer yourself as a sacrifice?’ he asked with a grudging respect.
‘Because I fight on one condition,’ answered Fox. ‘If I prove victorious, my friends are to go unharmed.’
Scarface broke into a harsh laugh. ‘And all this for a collection of mice and hedgehogs,’ he rasped. His face became as hard as stone. ‘All right, you have your wish,’ he growled. ‘And when I’ve killed you, I’ll fight your cubs, one by one, and destroy them all.’
Fox was quite aware of the seriousness of his situation. He had laid his challenge at the feet of an animal more hardened and experienced in battle than any in the whole Reserve. The only advantage on his side was his comparative youth, for he had no illusions about the other’s strength and cunning.
The two animals faced each other as if assessing the opponent’s qualities. Fox decided to take a defensive stance and so, at Scarface’s first rush, he had ample time to swing aside. Then Scarface again rushed headlong at him but Fox dropped flat on his belly, and Scarface’s jaws snapped at the air. But the old warrior turned quickly and bit savagely at Fox’s scruff. Fox broke free, leaving Scarface with a good mouthful of his fur. The other foxes watched in silence as their leader paused before his next move, while his adversary backed steadily away.
Scarface raced forward again and, with a leap, crashed right on top of Fox, bowling him over and driving all the breath from his body. As Fox lay, gasping painfully, Scarface barked in triumph and, teeth bared, lunged for his throat. But Fox scrambled clear in the nick of time and stood with heaving sides, his lungs labouring with difficulty. From the corner of his eye, he saw the heads of Vixen, Badger and Bold at the entrance to the set, watching in dismay. With a supreme effort he gulped down more air and held himself ready again. Now Scarface came in close, snapping left and right with his awful jaws, while Fox stepped further and further back at his advance. He felt his enemy’s teeth and knew that Scarface had tasted blood. They reached a patch of uneven ground and Fox stumbled, his back legs stepping into a dip of the land. Scarface got a grip on his muzzl
e and held on, biting deep. But Fox kicked out fiercely with his front legs, knocking him back on to his haunches, and then followed up with a lightning thrust at his front legs.
Scarface yelped with pain as Fox’s teeth sank into his lower leg and he tried desperately to shake him off. But Fox held fast, pinioning him to the ground and, as Scarface fell on his back trying to wrestle free, Fox transferred his grip to the other animal’s throat. To kill was not in Fox’s mind but he resolved to weaken Scarface so much so that he would be in no mood for fighting for long days to come. Even as Scarface struggled at his mercy, Kestrel zoomed down with a message: ‘The Warden is coming this way.’
Fox maintained his advantage for a few moments longer and then loosened his grip. Scarface lay still, his breath whistling agonizingly through his open jaws. Fox saw the approaching human figure and then ran for Badger’s set. Ranger and the rest of the band had already dispersed. The Warden came up to the injured Scarface and bent to help him. As he did so, the animal made a feeble snap at his extended hand, rolled over on to his feet and limped away, his brush hanging in a dejected manner between his legs.
In the set Fox was greeted as a hero again. Most of the animals thought Scarface was dead.
‘I didn’t kill him,’ Fox said as he sat heavily down by Badger while Vixen carefully and soothingly licked his wounds.
‘Why not? Why not?’ cried Vole. ‘Let us finish him off now!’
‘The Warden came,’ Vixen explained quietly, pausing for a moment in her work. ‘But Scarface is defeated. He won’t be back.’
‘If he recovers he’ll be back,’ said Hedgehog pessimistically. ‘He’s as vindictive as a household cat!’
‘If he comes again, he’ll come alone,’ said Fox wearily. ‘His tribe’s heart is not in this business.’ He turned to Charmer. ‘Ranger has seen to that, I think,’ he added with a kind smile.
‘He won’t dare to come alone again,’ Badger said. ‘He met his match today.’
‘He has a few more scars to add to his collection as well,’ Bold said proudly. ‘Father, you were magnificent.’
‘Once again, Fox, your bravery has saved us all,’ said Weasel. ‘But it’s to be regretted you weren’t able to complete the job.’
‘Fox hasn’t the killer instinct,’ said Vole sourly, ‘yet he was quite content for Adder to do the work.’
‘It might be as well for us small creatures that he hasn’t,’ Fieldmouse admonished him, ‘else we wouldn’t be sitting here so comfortably in his presence now.’
Vole scowled at him but accepted his point.
‘Let’s get back to our normal lives,’ Fox said to them all. ‘We’ve been living a false existence. To my mind the threat of Scarface is over. We’ve skulked in his shadow long enough.’
‘Hear, hear,’ responded Mole politely. ‘He wounded me but I’m not afraid of him.’
All the animals laughed at this piece of absurdity and a new, more light-hearted mood prevailed.
‘Now will someone please go and release those poor rabbits,’ said Fox, ‘else they may never come out again.’
It was some days before Adder recovered sufficiently from his pains to go far from the hole that had saved his life. He was ignorant, of course, of Scarface’s attack on the Farthing Wood creatures and of his battle with Fox. So the snake maintained his seclusion in case Scarface might come again for him. He was not going to be caught napping a second time!
He managed to sunbathe in complete secrecy, and the warmth of the sun and what titbits of food he was able to catch were the best possible medicine for him. His shortened tail was soon completely healed. This restored most of his old self-confidence and he gradually ventured further afield.
It was about a week after Scarface’s raid that Adder came into contact again with one of his old travelling companions. He was lying concealed by vegetation on the stream bank when he noticed Toad splashing about in the water. Now Adder would never have admitted to anyone that he had recently felt lonely and forgotten, but the sight of his old friend gladdened his scaly heart so much that he actually called out to Toad.
‘Hallo? Is that you, Adder?’ Toad answered, kicking his way to the bank. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m over here,’ came the reply, and Adder showed just enough of himself for Toad to locate him.
‘Well, well, I haven’t seen you in an age!’ cried his friend.
‘No. You don’t come up this way much, I believe?’ said Adder.
‘Oh, I get around quite a lot in the course of my wanderings during the summer,’ Toad told him. ‘I saw Fox a day or so ago. It seems there was some sort of fight.’
‘Really?’ Adder replied non-committally, but he was, in fact, greatly interested.
‘Yes, between Fox and that scarfaced villain. Fox came off best, I’m glad to say, but not without his share of suffering.’
‘Is the – er – scarfaced fox dead?’ Adder enquired.
‘No, unfortunately.’
‘Ah, I’m glad of that,’ Adder hissed.
‘Glad?’ cried Toad. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Oh, I have an old score to settle,’ replied Adder nonchalantly, drawing the rest of his body into the open as he spoke.
‘Goodness me, Adder!’ Toad exclaimed. ‘Whatever’s happened to you?’
‘Quite a tale really,’ Adder punned sarcastically. ‘Scarface and I had – er – a difference of opinion.’
‘That menace has left his mark on too many of us for my liking,’ said Toad angrily. ‘I understand Fox nearly killed him, but the Warden arrived on the scene just at that moment. Apparently Scarface made a raid with his subordinates with the idea of killing all the Farthing Wood animals.’
‘Fox was the hero once again, then,’ Adder surmised.
‘Yes. At any rate, he did enough damage to prevent Scarface from contemplating a second attack. But, Adder, tell me how you got mixed up with him?’
So Adder explained about the cubs’ mission to him and how he had bitten the wrong fox, so that Scarface had sought to avenge his death.
‘It sounds to me as if you were selected as a sort of weapon,’ observed Toad. ‘I’m surprised at Fox.’
‘It was my fault, to be honest,’ Adder admitted. ‘I was supposed to strike at Scarface himself.’
‘Well, you’ve certainly paid the price for it.’
‘I have. And no one has been to inquire if I am still alive,’ Adder said bitterly.
‘Then they don’t know about your scrap?’
‘Oh no. I’m just left to myself, you know.’
‘Well, Adder, you always liked to live like that before,’ Toad reminded him.
But Adder ignored the remark. ‘They will hear of me when I’ve done what I mean to do,’ he said enigmatically.
‘Er – you won’t do anything you’ll regret later, will you?’ Toad asked apprehensively, wondering if Adder contemplated some sort of punishment for his friends’ negligence.
‘Oh no. I shan’t regret it,’ answered Adder with a secret smile. ‘I shan’t regret it at all.’
Toad looked a little uncomfortable. ‘I suppose you – um – don’t feel disposed to enlarge a little on your plan?’ he asked warily.
‘As a matter of fact, my dear Toad,’ said Adder smoothly, ‘it’s a plan that will be realized in your own natural element – water.’
‘Water? Are you going to swim somewhere, Adder?’
‘I can reveal no more at this stage,’ the snake answered. ‘But, rest assured, you will hear it all eventually.’
Toad knew Adder would be questioned no further, so he returned to the subject of the snake’s tail. ‘I really am most upset to see you in this state,’ he said kindly. ‘Is the wound very painful?’
‘Not any more, thank you for asking,’ said Adder, ‘apart from the occasional throb when I move. I’m only glad that, like you, I haven’t the nervous system of a mammal. I’m told they feel things so much more deeply.’
Toad nodded. ‘W
ell, if there’s anything I can do . . .’ he began.
‘No, no,’ Adder interrupted. ‘Please don’t trouble yourself about me. But – er – if you are ever inclined to bring yourself to this vicinity of the Park again, I shall be – er – naturally – er – well, delighted.’
‘I shall certainly do so,’ Toad said warmly, feeling highly honoured by the snake’s uncharacteristic approach to friendliness. ‘Goodbye for now, Adder, and – take care!’ With a couple of kicks from his back legs he launched himself into the stream’s current. Soon he was lost to sight as he let himself be carried downstream.
Adder went back into hiding to review his plan for the hundredth time.
Further downstream Whistler and his mate were dozing on their stiltlike legs in the shallows. It was the arrival of Toad in the form of a soft bump against his leg that caused the heron to wake up.
‘Why, Toad!’ exclaimed Whistler. ‘I might have eaten you!’
But Toad was not fooled. He knew that only frogs, rather than toads, were palatable to the heron when he could not get fish.
‘How pleasant to see you and your charming companion,’ Toad said politely. ‘You both look in the pink of health.’
‘Yes, we certainly cannot complain,’ Whistler replied. ‘We eat well and we keep out of danger.’
‘I wish the same could be said of our friend I’ve just left,’ remarked Toad.
‘Who might that be?’
‘Adder. He’s in a very sorry state.’
Whistler looked puzzled. ‘I’m surprised to hear that,’ he said. ‘But do explain, Toad.’
So, just as Toad had related the details of Fox’s fight with Scarface to the snake, he now described Adder’s unfortunate encounter.
Whistler listened with a look of concern. ‘I deeply regret the fact that no one’s been near him,’ he said afterwards. ‘I, for one, would certainly have done so had I known he was close at hand – and hurt into the bargain.’
‘Well,’ said Toad, ‘I never expected to say this of Adder, but I think his feelings have been more hurt by Scarface than his body.’
‘I shall go and see Fox and the others and get them all to atone for their neglect,’ said the heron.
