by Colin Dann
Badger and Tawny Owl, the two old friends, looked at each other hesitantly. Was there another of the Beasts? As they held their silence, more roars could be heard, the one answering the other. Now more Park animals began to make themselves seen, asking each other what these awful sounds portended.
Badger said quietly to Tawny Owl, ‘Let’s go back and mix with the others. Mole will make his own way home.’
Now Tawny Owl understood about the digging. He made no comment on Badger’s use of the name ‘Mole’.
They found Fox and Vixen and Weasel in a cheerful mood that contrasted strangely with their own.
‘Why such long faces?’ Weasel chided them. ‘This is cause for celebration.’
‘Celebration?’ Badger muttered. ‘How can you –’ He broke off. A light seemed to penetrate his thoughts. ‘Can it be?’ he asked himself. And then he heard it. The cries of hundreds of birds, chirping and singing joyfully.
‘Oh tell me, Weasel – Fox – someone – tell me what you think,’ begged Badger.
‘Those roars can mean only one thing,’ said Weasel. ‘The Cat has been called away. It’s still spring. That could only be the call of a female crying for a mate!’
The roars were becoming fainter and, as they listened, dusk began to descend.
‘Yes,’ said Fox. ‘It seems that what we’ve striven for so hopelessly all along, has now been achieved by an outside influence.’
The birds were still singing. The animals thrilled at the sound. They were crying, ‘It’s left the Park! It’s left the Park!’
Epilogue
During the last few days of spring the animals could not quite believe their Park had been returned to them. The Farthing Wood community had listened to Mossy’s description of the cavern, and they had gone to the spot to look at the entrance behind the thick bushes that concealed it. Fox and Vixen had even scrambled inside to look. But the grisly remains of the Beast’s last meals had soon prompted their return to fresher air. They told none of the others what they had seen.
Some of the birds who had so gladly broadcast the Cat’s departure had not been satisfied with that alone. They had flown into open country to follow the route it took. They saw the other Cat that had called it away – a slightly smaller beast, but equally powerful in their eyes. And this one’s power did not extend merely to strength. With some surprise, the birds watched the excited meeting of the two Cats. For the smaller animal appeared to dominate the great creature that had terrorized the Park. Wherever she led, the male followed. She called to him frequently as they went and, almost with a sort of meekness, he was content to do her bidding. He ambled in her wake quite happily, and such was their stride that they were soon a long way from the Reserve. It was apparent that the female’s territory was in quite another area. Eventually the birds returned home with the news. One of them remarked that ‘it was as if the Beast had been tamed’.
So the roars and screams of the great Cat were heard no more in White Deer Park. The animals’ lives resumed an ordinariness that at times seemed almost dull by its comparison with the frights and fears they had endured for so long.
‘It almost seems now,’ Friendly remarked to his father, ‘that the danger we faced day after day added a sort of zest to our existence.’
Fox disagreed. ‘When you reach my time of life,’ he replied, ‘what you call “zest” is something you only want to recall in your memories. And Vixen and I have plenty of those.’
Soon Squirrel came back to the fold and the group of old friends was more or less complete again.
The opinions of the older creatures – Badger, Tawny Owl, Weasel, Toad and Whistler – tallied with those of Fox. They looked forward to nothing more than a period of peace to enjoy for as long as they were able to gather together. But the opinion of one old friend was not known, and that was Adder’s. He had not put in an appearance since the siege of the Nature Reserve had been lifted. Only Leveret had seen him since that time, and the snake’s excuse had been, as usual, a cryptic one. His remark had puzzled Leveret who had passed it on to the others, hoping for some enlightenment. There was none offered. They were as mystified as he. For Adder had merely referred to the fact that he had recently become interested ‘in a new association’.
The summer waxed and waned and the chill of autumn crackled with the clash of antlers of the stags in the white deer herd. The Great Stag had many rivals now and had more difficulty than ever before in holding his place. The fawns who had survived the ravages of the stranger’s raids had grown too, and eventually the leadership would be passed on, perhaps many seasons hence, to one of these. Whatever happened, the herd that had given the Park its name would still be there, stepping gracefully through the woods and grassland of the Nature Reserve.
Another winter beckoned. Deep in his set, with a thick pile of bedding around him, Badger wondered if it would be his last. His old bones were beginning to ache with age and the cold, and he found himself thinking again about his ancient system of tunnels in Farthing Wood. In a soft, rather feeble but warm voice he said to Mossy, who was visiting, ‘It was a wonderful set, Mole. Do you remember the Assembly, when the whole Wood gathered in my home to talk?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Mossy. ‘I remember. I wonder what Farthing Wood is like now?’
About the Author
Colin Dann won the Arts Council National Award for Children’s Literature for his first novel, The Animals of Farthing Wood.
THE SIEGE OF WHITE DEER PARK
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 48081 6
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Penguin Random House Company
This ebook edition published 2011
Copyright © Colin Dann, 2011
Illustrations copyright © Terry Riley, 2011
First Published in Great Britain
The right of Colin Dann to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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