by Colin Dann
Once again Vixen was wary. ‘I wish we could leave this to the humans,’ she said. ‘The Cat is sure to kill another deer sooner or later, and then they’ll be combing the Park for it.’
‘We can’t trust to that,’ Fox answered. ‘It would almost certainly elude them again. Anyway, we know what they don’t know. We’ve found its hidey-hole.’
‘From what Adder told me, this lair seems to be used only periodically,’ Whistler said.
‘That’s enough,’ said Fox easily. ‘We’re bound to catch him at home some time.’ Then he turned to Vixen again and said softly to her, with all his old affection, ‘You’ve been a wonderful mate to me – no fox could have asked for a better one. I’ve always listened to your advice. But we’ve always looked after our own and our age doesn’t alter our obligations. Husky’s death makes it necessary for us to take some action now, when before we might have stood aloof. I have been thinking of Bold. Remember how he wore out his own life to ensure that Husky and his other offspring should be born here – in what he believed was a haven. I feel we owe his memory something.’
Vixen’s eyes melted as she looked at him and, for a brief moment, she and Fox were lost in their own private world. Whistler stepped awkwardly away on his long thin legs. Neither of the foxes spoke any more but Vixen had given her answer.
It took some time for the animals to gather, for word of the discovery had to be taken around from creature to creature. By the evening, however, there was a large assemblage outside Fox’s earth, while new arrivals swelled the numbers all the time. There were creatures of all sizes – foxes, badgers, stoats, hares, rabbits, squirrels, hedgehogs, weasels, even mice and frogs. In the nearby trees there were owls, rooks, magpies, crows, thrushes, jays, blackbirds, starlings and tree sparrows. The Farthing Wood animals and their kin kept in a group together. All of them had come, including the smallest-Toad and Mossy. Whilst none of these assembled animals would have had the temerity to act of their own accord, they felt safe in the heart of the gathering, and even appeared to be enjoying themselves. Only the deer herd had stayed apart. The deer were convinced that they were the true quarry of the hunter, and therefore served their own purpose best by staying together and trying to protect each other.
During the night there were more arrivals. Fox was content to wait until dawn. He knew the Beast was active principally by night. So the most likely time to catch it unawares was by day when it would probably be resting. In the darkness many of the animals slept. At first light, Fox was ready to move. With Vixen alongside, and with all their relatives behind them, he set off for the stream. After the foxes came Badger, Weasel and Leveret. The rest of the creatures followed them, the largest at the forefront. Overhead the birds flapped, with Whistler at their head.
Adder’s first realization that something was happening was the sight of the heron accompanied by Tawny Owl, with birds of all sizes strung out in their rear.
‘It’s begun,’ was Whistler’s announcement to the snake. ‘You never saw such a collection.’
Adder made no comment. He was waiting for Fox. When he saw him approaching he slid forward. It was still early morning.
‘You’ve chosen a good time,’ the snake remarked. ‘A short while ago I saw the Cat slaking its thirst downstream.’
‘How far?’ Fox asked at once.
‘Oh, not far. About as far as the lair lies from here.’
‘Then the game is on,’ Fox murmured.
The animals moved on at their varying paces. The most timid of them experienced a feeling of security in the company of fiercer creatures that was quite unlike the normal pattern of their existence. For they all knew that there was but one aim in all their minds.
Adder guided the leaders as far as he dared. He indicated the mass of vegetation that clothed the entrance hole. It was indeed perfectly hidden from observation. Fox went down the bank and stepped gingerly into the water. Keeping near the shore he paddled out just far enough to see the lair for himself. Nothing could be detected inside. No sound issued from the den. He returned to the bank.
‘Well, we must assume our friend is there,’ he said. ‘We have no proof.’
Many of the animals began to question him about his tactics. Would he go in? Would he wait for the Beast to come out? What were they to do in the meantime?
‘There’s nothing to do at present,’ Fox told them. ‘We have to be sure.’ He looked thoughtful. What was needed was for one of the smallest creatures, and one who could swim well, to get as close as was necessary without being noticed. But how could he ask for a volunteer? As it turned out, he did not have to. Toad had come forward himself.
‘I’ll soon find out if he’s in there,’ he offered boldly.
‘Are you sure, Toad?’ Fox asked his friend dubiously. ‘You see, it would mean going some way into the hole itself to be certain. I don’t want to send you to –’
‘Don’t be concerned,’ Toad interrupted. He had not bargained for doing any more than having a little swim, but he thought it would look cowardly now to withdraw. ‘Is the Beast,’ he continued, ‘going to take any notice of a tiny inedible mouthful such as me?’ He tried to sound humorous.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Fox answered. ‘But I’m still not very happy about it. Please, Toad, do use the utmost care!’
‘Of course I will,’ said Toad as he moved to the edge of the bank. Then, with a little kick from his hind legs, he jumped into the water. His small body hardly disturbed the surface. He swam in short spurts to the lair entrance and pulled himself out on to the muddy strand. Then, a few centimetres at a time, he crawled into the darkness.
Toad was probably the most suited of all the animals for the job. He was small and therefore light-footed, unexcitable, and naturally unhurried and quiet in his movements. Once he had left the stream he was hidden from view, and all the animals waited with bated breath in an unaccustomed stillness. Fox, above all, longed for Toad to reappear.
Time crept by. There was no sign of Toad. Fox began to fear the worst. Then, as if he had been engaged on nothing more serious than a pleasurable splash around, he was seen slowly swimming upstream, against the current, to where the others were assembled.
‘Took rather longer – than I thought,’ said Toad, arriving a bit short of breath. ‘I had to – go in a long way. It’s very dark; not much light gets in to see by. I could hear breathing – deep and steady, typical of a mammal when it’s asleep. That gave me the confidence to go closer. The breathing got louder so I knew I was getting near. Then I saw a shape, curled up. I could make no more of it – too dark, you see. I wondered whether to leave then. But I thought – what’s the good of that? I still don’t know what’s here.’
Toad paused for a rest. He was enjoying being the focus of attention and wanted to make the most of his story. Then he went on.
‘I decided the only thing I could do was to go right up to the sleeper. So I did and I hopped all round, and it took me quite a while just to do that. I can tell you, the thing is enormous! It has silky fur, like a cat’s – some of the hairs brushed me as I made my inspection. By then I was sure enough. No other creature of its size lives in this Park, except for the deer, and I know it wasn’t one of them. So I left – slowly and cautiously. The breathing sounded the same. I heard nothing else. So I don’t think I could have woken it. Now I don’t know what you plan to do, Fox, but we should do something soon. The animal is there. We can seal off its exit and – we have it at bay!’
Toad’s courageous deed was obscured by the urgency of taking action together. But it was not quite so simple, as Fox told him.
‘We can’t all stand or swim around in the water, Toad, waiting for it to come out. That’s one escape route we can’t deny it.’
‘What about the strand?’ Toad asked.
‘How big is it?’
‘Big enough for a few of the largest animals such as yourself to station yourselves there.’
‘That’s no use, then,’ Fox commented. �
�A few would just be tossed aside.’
‘What shall we do then?’
‘We must find out if there’s another entrance to this lair. I think it unlikely the Cat would always get in from the water.’
Fox went off along the bank. He wanted to try and get in under the vegetation to see if there was an opening on the land side. The animals watched him go. They were keyed up, and some of the more highly-strung amongst them were no longer able to keep still. Rabbits and various groups of mice began to jump about nervously, wishing they had not come. It was quite apparent that the stranger would only have to show itself for them to turn tail and bolt.
Fox had set himself the most difficult of tasks. He did not want to rouse the sleeper. Yet it was quite impossible for him to avoid making a noise as he pushed himself into the clumps of growth. He thrust about with his muzzle, pausing tensely after each rustle and swish. Finally he managed to nose his way into the heart of the greenery. If there was another entrance he knew he might suddenly come face to face with the Beast, for every slight noise he made was magnified by his own fear. But he found nothing, though he made as thorough a search as he could.
As Fox was withdrawing from this screen he heard a noise break out; a noise of many voices. Animal and bird cries swelled in pitch and he knew something was astir. Above it all he could hear Vixen calling him and he hastily pulled himself clear. He imagined all sorts of horrors, but what he actually saw was so unexpected that it brought him to a halt. The collection of animals had pulled back, even the foxes. It seemed their confidence en masse had been a short-lived thing. Some of the rabbits had begun to run away, and were now paused at some distance, trying to gauge the situation. The smallest creatures – the mice and frogs – had already disappeared. And there, calmly seated by the waterside, was the Cat, watching them all with an expression of total disinterest. As Fox went by, the creature stretched each of its limbs luxuriously and then began to wash itself. It paid them less attention than if they had been a swarm of flies.
Fox joined Vixen at the head of the throng. He looked back at the stranger. It was a magnificent animal. Its body was clothed in glossy golden brown fur with darker blotches. It had long legs, a small compact head with rounded ears, and a long thick banded tail with a blunt end. It was easy to detect the power and grace of the creature even as it went through its cleaning performance. The muscles of the neck and shoulders rippled beneath its skin as it used its paws, feline fashion, to wipe its face; then it licked its coat, patch by patch, with loose, easy motions of the head. The animal’s confidence in its own supremacy amounted to arrogance as it turned a disdainful glance on its audience. The motley collection of onlookers was, quite simply, overwhelmed. They had never seen such a beast before. They were overwhelmed by its size, by its majestic ease, and by a consciousness that it could scatter the whole pack of them if it should choose to do so. But they did not disperse. They were held by a fascination for the creature’s beauty. To them it was perfection – a being from a strange world they did not know. They were lost in their admiration for it.
None of these lesser creatures could break the spell. That was left to the great Cat itself. When it was satisfied its coat was clean, it bent to take a few laps from the stream. Then, with a final glance in their direction that seemed to imply a sort of challenge, the Cat leapt into the water, dashing spray everywhere. In a few moments it had reached the opposite bank and, with a series of effortless bounds, it was away and lost from sight before the animals could draw breath.
But the spell was broken and all of the onlookers began to cry out to each other. Only then did they remember their purpose.
Whisper said to Fox, ‘The Beast is huge – I think as big as a great mastiff dog that befriended Bold and myself. But this Cat is no friend. It’s an enemy and an enemy we are powerless to stop.’
It was not long before the smaller and weaker animals disbanded. They did not even wait for their leader, Fox, to give them new directions. They had seen all they wanted to see. As far as they could tell, Fox was helpless, and they themselves were keen to get out of the unnaturally vulnerable position in which they were situated. Predators were on all sides.
The larger animals and the hunters among the group began to complain that they had come to do something and now the opportunity had been missed. They spoke from the safe knowledge that the Cat was no longer near.
The birds flew away. Their limited interest in the venture had soon been dissipated. Only Tawny Owl had the presence of mind to follow the Cat as far as he could.
Fox was silent. He knew his plan was a failure and he thought that probably it had been doomed from the outset. But he had felt a need to be doing something and so the expedition had been mounted. Now the Park’s inhabitants would no longer believe he had any right to expect them to follow him. He had shown that he was as inadequate in dealing with the Cat as any of them.
Vixen watched him. She could guess much of what was in his heart. ‘At least you tried,’ she murmured to him.
‘Tried!’ he growled. ‘The Beast showed its contempt for all of us. The entire Reserve is in thralldom.’
She tried to comfort him. ‘We mustn’t forget the skilfulness of Man,’ she reminded him. ‘There’s always a chance the Warden will catch up with it.’
‘Perhaps,’ Fox said morosely. ‘Anyway, that’s our only hope now.’
The larger animals were gradually drifting away. Most of them were relieved that they had not actually had to prove themselves in a confrontation. As it was, they were not unduly pessimistic about the situation. They felt that, now the deer herd was in the open again, the rest of them would only be secondary targets. In the end only the Farthing Wood contingent remained.
‘Did you find another entrance to the lair?’ Toad asked Fox lamely.
‘No. But there could be other bolt-holes all over the park, and what difference would it make?’ Fox sounded bitter.
‘We – we seemed to be hypnotized,’ stammered Mossy. He was so purblind that he had not seen the Cat himself, but he understood the reaction.
‘Exactly,’ Badger corroborated. ‘I found myself marvelling at the creature. I’ve lived a long time and seen all sorts of things, but never anything quite like that.’
The vixens were eager to get back to their dens and their cubs. It was only Fox the elder’s call for solidarity that had induced them to leave them. So the numbers of animals dwindled bit by bit until only a handful were left, staring disconsolately across the water to where the Cat had vanished from sight.
‘We don’t seem to be achieving much by staying here,’ Adder drawled, ‘so I think I’ll just slip away.’
None of the others attempted to stop him. Mossy was heartily glad to see the back of the snake. He was not sure that Adder was party to the conspiracy about ‘Mole’. Toad alone called a farewell.
‘I don’t expect Tawny Owl will have achieved much either,’ Weasel remarked. But his observation was not quite accurate.
There was a stretch of open land on the far side of the stream and Tawny Owl was able to keep the Cat in view quite well, though he could not match its pace. It moved very swiftly, with a bounding movement of its long legs. Owl realized it was heading directly for the Park’s boundary but, surprisingly, on the side where it bordered a lane leading to human habitations. Eventually the Cat was lost among the first belt of trees. Tawny Owl flew on faithfully in its wake.
A ditch ran along the edge of the Park, just beyond the perimeter fence. Hazel bushes and young trees hung over it from the Park side. At one point under the fence animals had dug the soil away and there was a gap. The Cat knew about this, and it knew about the ditch. It had crossed a large chunk of the Reserve in broad daylight and now arrived at the boundary. It flattened its back and scrambled under the fence, then jumped down into the ditch. This channel was for drainage but it had not been cleared since the previous summer. Leaves and twigs had accumulated in it from the overhanging boughs, so much of it was reasonabl
y dry. The Cat squatted in the bottom. Sunlight pierced the greenery irregularly, dappling the ground all about. The Cat’s markings blended in perfectly with its surroundings. From the road it was hidden. No human stroller passing by would have noticed, nor suspected, the existence of a large beast skulking in the ditch. The Cat made sure its head was well out of sight. It had discovered that this spot was a good place to lie in wait for any prey that might wander in the trees. It had caught squirrels and rabbits here and once, in the evening, a deer had stepped almost close enough for a pounce. The Cat could see animals walking along the road too. It was not averse to the possibility of leaping out at an unaccompanied dog.
Tawny Owl reached this edge of the Reserve a minute or so after the Cat had hidden itself. He flew along the Park’s perimeter, always searching for a sign of that tawny coat. He actually perched in a branch that overlooked the ditch, but the Cat’s splendid camouflage fooled him for a while. Then the slightest of movements caught his roving eye. His head swivelled round and he stared long and hard. All was still. Was he imagining things? No, there it was again. Just a twitch of the back fur. A midge or spider had caused a moment’s irritation. Now Owl could make out the long powerful body. What was it doing in the ditch? It certainly could not know it was being observed. Owl decided to move even closer.
He looked round and selected a stout sycamore sapling that grew right on the edge of the drainage channel. He fluttered over to it and alighted. It was not the best of landings. The sapling bent under his weight and he grappled for a firmer hold. The sycamore’s leaves shook noticeably. The Cat turned sharply and looked directly at Tawny Owl. Its lips curled back in a soundless snarl, annoyed that it had been detected. This time Owl maintained his position, aware that he was out of reach, and stared back full in the Beast’s face. The Cat’s eyes did not waver and in the end it was Tawny Owl who looked away. But there was a magnetism about the Cat and it drew the bird’s head round again. The Beast opened its mouth.
