In the Path of the Storm

by Colin Dann

  ‘Come on, Badger! Come over this way. There’s a deserted set close by. He can’t catch us!’

  And Trey couldn’t, try as he might. Plucky held him at bay, chasing this way and that and, eventually, the exhausted Badger, his bristly coat pouring water, pulled himself out of the Pond. He wanted only to collapse in a heap in a place of safety. His head was spinning, his throat irritated and his rump throbbed unmercifully but he kept going towards the hole in the ground. It was so close, so close. If only he could get inside it. But now Trey tried to head him off.

  Plucky dashed up courageously and, dodging the stag’s feet, jumped up to sink his teeth high up in Trey’s thigh. Badger made his escape and bolted into the empty set. But even now he couldn’t rest. He feared for the young fox. So he turned around in the tunnel and hauled himself back up to the entrance. Plucky was dancing about but now he had risked too much by coming in so close and Trey was aiming blows with his antlers to right and left. It seemed only a matter of time before one would catch him, with severe consequences to the young fox. Plucky’s way to the entrance hole was barred by the stag and Badger could see that, despite his own fatigue, he must enter the fray. Trey’s back was before Badger and the gallant old creature looked for a way to rescue the youngster whose bravery reminded him so much of his dear friend the Farthing Wood Fox. When the stag stepped back a pace Badger saw his chance and now he bit deeply into the leg that Plucky had already nipped earlier on. As Trey paused, registering this fresh outburst of pain, Plucky instantly made a dive for the hole and in the next second he and Badger were tumbling over each other in the safety of the tunnel.

  Plucky scrambled to the nearest chamber inside the set and Badger crawled after him. He was entirely spent. Outside the set Trey bellowed his fury.

  When he could muster up sufficient strength to speak, Badger said to Plucky: ‘Once it’s dark you must fetch the elders – the Farthing Wood Fox and Vixen.’ He gasped agonizingly. ‘Bring them here. And my other friends too. All you can find.’ He gasped again. ‘Tell them,’ he panted, ‘Badger’s finished.’

  11

  The Animals Gather

  FOR THE WHOLE of that day Plucky sheltered with Badger in the abandoned set. From time to time he went along the exit tunnel to see if Trey had gone. The stag hung around for a long while, hoping for revenge. In the end he realized he was achieving nothing and left with many threats of ‘getting even’ and ‘teaching you not to try and thwart a royal stag’ roared down the entrance hole.

  Badger hardly uttered a word all day except in reply to Plucky’s enquiries about his comfort. Every limb in Badger’s body ached unbearably. His rump was sore from the blow of the stag’s antlers. But, worst of all, his throat was hot and dry and he knew his drink at the stream might prove fatal. Indeed he expected to die. Every so often he was racked by a painful wheezing cough which was a constant reminder of the sufferings of the dead rabbit. Badger could think only of his need to survive through the hours of the coming night. It was imperative he give his warning to his friends. He willed himself to hold on.

  At long last the late dusk began to descend. Plucky waited a little longer. He was frantic to leave, yet he could not afford the slightest risk. Under cover of darkness he bade farewell to Badger and went up to the entrance hole. He made a thorough check of the Pond’s surroundings before actually setting off. There was no scent of deer on the air. He ran round the Pond and, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, made his way to Fox and Vixen’s earth as swiftly as his young legs would carry him. There he related to them all that had happened. He knew nothing of the events at the stream.

  ‘We must go to him at once,’ Fox said. ‘We won’t wait for the others. Plucky, I leave it to you to tell them about Badger. Quickly now, explain to me where this set is.’

  Plucky gave him the necessary directions.

  ‘Come on, Vixen,’ said Fox. ‘I hope to goodness we’ll be in time.’

  The pair of foxes were silent as they picked their way across the Park. They were both deeply worried by Plucky’s message. Fox himself, of all creatures, was closest to Badger. Their association and friendship went back such a long way that Fox simply couldn’t bear to think what life would be like without him.

  Vixen knew as well as if he had told her himself that these thoughts were passing through Fox’s mind. Her sympathy for him was intense and, coupled with this, was her own grave concern. For Badger was her friend too. Next to Fox and her own offspring she had more affection for the kind-hearted old animal than any other creature. So it was a sad and sombre pair who arrived at the pond-side.

  They were surprised to find Toad there waiting for them. ‘I’ve been to see him,’ Toad told them without preamble. ‘The frogs told me what had happened when I arrived for a bathe. He really does look as if he’s on his last legs.’

  Fox and Vixen looked at each other unhappily.

  ‘The set’s this way,’ Toad prompted and went on ahead, half-crawling and half-hopping until he reached the entrance hole.

  ‘Is – is he badly injured?’ Vixen asked with bated breath.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Toad answered. ‘He’s more concerned about something else. He begged me never to swim in the stream. It’s the stream that’s on his mind more than anything.’

  Fox and Vixen hesitated no longer but followed the tunnel down to the chamber where Badger lay in agony.

  ‘Fox! Vixen!’ he croaked. ‘Thank goodness you’ve come. I’ve managed to hang on for you.’

  ‘Oh Badger, my dear, dear friend. You sound terrible,’ Fox whispered. ‘What’s happened to you?’

  ‘I’m done for, Fox,’ Badger wheezed. ‘It’s all up with me. The stream has been poisoned somehow and I’ve drunk from it. None of you must ever go near it again. You must promise me!’ he gasped insistently.

  ‘Of course we promise,’ Fox said. ‘But how do you know all this?’

  Badger told them about the rabbit and how he himself had unsuspectingly lapped the water before he had realized the danger. The foxes and Toad were unable to speak.

  ‘Where are the others?’ Badger asked. ‘Where’s Mole? And Weasel? They must promise too. I must know they’re safe.’

  ‘Plucky will find them. He’ll find everybody,’ Fox reassured him.

  Badger relaxed. He was satisfied for the moment. He lapsed into silence but his friends listened to his harsh breathing with mounting alarm.

  ‘Oh Badger, poor Badger,’ Vixen wailed. ‘Is there nothing we can do for you?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he answered. ‘Don’t fret yourself, dearest Vixen. There’s nothing to be done. I’ve no complaints. I feel calm about it now. I’ve only myself to blame for what must come.’

  Toad took Fox aside. ‘Look here,’ he said urgently, ‘we can’t just leave him like this. There’s the Warden. D’you remember how he helped Badger before when he injured himself? Perhaps he could –’

  ‘This is no injury, Toad,’ Fox interrupted quietly. ‘It’s something much more serious. Even human help could do nothing. We all have to face this some time but – but –’ his voice shook noticeably – ‘it’s difficult to bear, isn’t it?’

  ‘Then all we can do is to stay and comfort him,’ Toad murmured sadly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fox. ‘We won’t leave him now.’

  Badger was extremely tired and he fell asleep. His wheezing breaths whistled in the dark underground chamber. Fox, Toad and Vixen remained nearby. They sat gloomily and scarcely dared to exchange a word. Later they were joined by a very subdued Weasel.

  ‘Plucky is going to look for Whistler and Adder in the daylight,’ he told them. ‘Friendly and Charmer are coming but I told them to come unaccompanied. Badger could only cope with his oldest comrades, I think? The younger foxes will have to stay away. There wouldn’t be room for them and the old fellow might be overwhelmed.’

  ‘Too difficult a journey for Mossy, I suspect?’ asked Fox.

  ‘Yes. But Plucky said he’s in a terrible st
ate about this.’

  ‘Mossy and Badger almost shared their homes, didn’t they?’ Vixen remarked.

  ‘Just like dear old Mole in Farthing Wood,’ Toad commented.

  ‘I hope Badger won’t start asking for him,’ whispered Fox. ‘I really don’t think I could endure it.’

  Daylight came but didn’t penetrate the general gloom of the set. However Badger’s breathing had eased a little. He awoke to find Friendly and Charmer had swelled the numbers. He made the newcomers swear never to visit the stream.

  ‘Is everyone here now?’ he murmured weakly. ‘No – I don’t smell Mole or Adder.’

  ‘Adder’s on his way,’ Weasel told him, though he didn’t know it for sure. ‘It’s a long crawl here for him and he’ll have to be particularly careful now it’s light.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Badger. ‘There mustn’t be any accidents on my account. That crazed stag has sworn to get even with us.’ He was thoughtful. ‘Perhaps it would be better for Mole to stay out of harm’s way.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Fox whispered to Vixen. Then he spoke up. ‘He’s doing just that, Badger. No point in his coming, is there? He never visits the stream anyway.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Badger sighed mournfully. ‘I should have liked to see Tawny Owl just once before I –’

  He broke off as he heard the sound of another animal arriving. Leveret had raced to the set and tumbled into it almost under the nose of Trey who had recommenced patrolling the area.

  ‘He’s got us bottled up here all right,’ he announced as he joined the others. ‘He’s only waiting for one of us to make a false move.’

  ‘He’ll have a long wait then,’ Friendly remarked grimly. ‘He hasn’t outwitted us yet.’

  The animals listened to Trey’s angry snorts outside the entrance hole. The stag stamped up and down, first one way, then another.

  ‘He – he’s standing guard over us,’ Leveret murmured in awe.

  They heard his regular hoof-beats. Sometimes Trey called out threateningly although he had no knowledge there was such a large gathering of creatures around Badger.

  ‘This is sheer nonsense,’ said Fox. ‘Whatever can possess an animal to bear such a grudge?’

  ‘His pride’s offended,’ Badger said. ‘So far we’ve got the better of him. We’ve outrun him and outmanoeuvred him. And he’s got the scars to prove it.’

  ‘Scars?’ Fox asked. ‘What scars? I didn’t know about this.’

  ‘Plucky and myself left our teeth-marks on him,’ Badger said.

  ‘Did you though? My word, Badger, I don’t think your days can be over after all. You attacked that huge stag!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Badger. ‘It’s not another animal that’s put paid to me, you see, Fox. It’s my own stupidity.’

  ‘If Trey’s been injured by his encounters with us it does put a different complexion on things,’ Fox remarked. ‘It’s my opinion he’ll be determined to redress the balance. He’s a vain beast. How belittling for him that he’s the dominant deer in the herd yet he’s suffered humiliations from creatures far smaller than himself. We’ll all have to be doubly cautious.’

  It was late in the day when Adder, by subtle and hidden movements, arrived near the Pond. Several times during his journey he had been on the point of giving up. He wasn’t known for demonstrations of deep affection or concern. He was, by his very nature, an unemotional animal. But each time he stopped some thought of Badger or some image of him in one of his acts of bravery or kindheartedness compelled the snake to continue. He saw Trey pacing up and down the length of the Pond and it took him an age to get to some cover close enough to the set so that he could get himself into it without trouble when the stag was most distant.

  As Adder lay hidden amongst the sedges he saw Whistler fly in and begin a search of the terrain. He was looking for the position of the set where the animals were sheltering, although there was no possibility of his entering it himself. He seemed to Adder to be in a state of excitement. The whistle of his damaged wing sounded rhythmically over the water. Inside the set the animals detected the sound.

  ‘Whistler’s agitated,’ Fox observed shrewdly. ‘His wing’s like a second voice. It’s evident he can’t settle.’

  ‘The stag must still be around,’ Friendly suggested.

  ‘I think our heron friend wants to tell us something,’ said Weasel.

  Adder was thinking the same thing as he watched the great bird’s flight. All at once the heron’s sharp eyes picked out the snake’s familiar patterned coils amongst the waterside vegetation. Taking careful note of Trey’s position Whistler descended and, flapping briskly to steady himself, landed close to Adder’s little nook.

  ‘What are you doing?’ hissed the snake. ‘You couldn’t make my presence more obvious if you were to pinpoint me with your bill!’

  ‘Sorry,’ croaked the heron. ‘But I’ve made an important discovery about the stream. I can’t get into Badger’s shelter and I thought you could tell the others.’

  ‘Tell them what?’ Adder rasped crossly. ‘The stag’s turning this way!’

  ‘It’s the humans,’ Whistler confided. ‘They’ve poisoned it. They’ve dumped –’ He interrupted himself and took awkwardly to flight as Trey began his approach. ‘I’ll be back!’ he cried hurriedly.

  ‘Irresponsible chump,’ Adder muttered as he buried himself deeper inside some dead leaves. The deer was running to investigate.

  Whistler was high in the air by this time and Trey could find nothing on the ground, try as he might. Adder’s camouflage was good enough to fool all but those with the keenest sight. Nevertheless he didn’t choose to stay put and afford the heron a second chance of blowing his cover. As soon as Trey had wandered away again Adder emerged from his nest of leaves and slithered determinedly towards the set entrance.

  Even then, when Whistler saw his movement, he endangered Adder’s dash for safety. ‘No, wait!’ he called to the snake. ‘I didn’t finish. It’s important!’ he bawled at him thoughtlessly.

  Adder cared nothing for its importance. Deaf to all entreaties he increased his effort and slid into the hole, cursing the heron roundly all the way.

  ‘Bird-brained, bird-brained,’ he hissed to himself over and over again until his anger was cooled by the mustiness of the earthen tunnels.

  Weasel came to look. ‘It’s you!’ he greeted him. ‘Whatever’s the fuss about? Badger needs quiet.’

  ‘It’s lucky that dolt of a heron can’t get in here then,’ Adder observed waspishly. ‘He’s worked himself into a lather about something and did his best to get me skewered on a pair of antlers!’

  ‘Calm yourself,’ said Weasel. ‘This isn’t the time for recriminations.’

  Adder realized he had forgotten himself, though he didn’t admit it. ‘How is he?’ he asked, referring to Badger, as he followed Weasel down the tunnel.

  ‘Hanging on.’

  ‘I’m afraid Badger’s made himself an example for the rest of us,’ Adder lisped. ‘His suffering is our warning.’

  ‘That’s exactly why he’s called us all here. We’ve all had to swear not to go near the stream. You’ll be made to go through the ritual too.’

  Badger was the last to hear Adder’s voice though he was listening hard for each new arrival. In his old age he had become increasingly deaf but he was relieved when the others told him the snake had at last joined the throng. Adder dutifully went through the motions of promising never to enter the stream.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve been able to make you the promise,’ he said afterwards. ‘I wondered if I’d ever talk to you again. Is the – er – pain very acute?’

  ‘No worse and no better,’ Badger answered cryptically. ‘But I’m so parched, you see. I think I could drink the Pond dry. And I haven’t eaten for an age, either.’

  The animals began to murmur together questioningly.

  ‘What?’ Adder hissed. ‘Are you saying you have an appetite?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ Badger admi
tted. ‘I don’t think my stomach has a scrap of food in it.’

  Adder’s tongue flickered busily. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ he demanded indignantly, ‘that I’ve scraped my scales across the breadth of the Park merely to hear you complain that you’re hungry?’

  ‘Well, I – I can’t help it, Adder,’ Badger mumbled. ‘It’s only natural, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Adder contradicted. ‘Not for an animal who is supposed to be dying, and that’s what I was told you were. D’you think I would have come all this way otherwise? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re an old humbug, Badger!’

  ‘There was something wrong with me. There was,’ Badger insisted defensively. ‘But, the truth is, I do begin to feel better.’

  ‘How much of this so-called killer water did you actually drink?’ Adder asked next.

  ‘Um – I don’t remember exactly,’ said Badger. ‘I was interrupted. I’d begun to lap and –’

  Now Weasel cut in. ‘So you only took a few laps? Then why all this bother?’

  ‘How can you talk like that, Weasel?’ Vixen asked. ‘Badger saw the rabbit die. What was he to think? And we should be celebrating, not complaining. Poor Badger!’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Weasel said contritely. ‘I’m delighted. You know I am. We all are. I didn’t mean . . . oh Badger, forgive me. It’s such a surprise, that’s all, after expecting the worst.’

  The animals all began talking at once, congratulating Badger and each other on a false alarm. Adder remained silent. He was certainly pleased Badger wasn’t going to die, but he couldn’t quite manage to mask his irritation at the unnecessary journey. Then he remembered Whistler. He waited for the hubbub to die down.

  ‘Listen, everybody,’ he lisped. ‘There’s a message about the stream. Whistler has discovered something. He wants to tell us.’

  ‘We can’t leave here till dark,’ said Toad. ‘Will he stay around?’

  ‘I’ll go and see if he’s waiting,’ said Fox. ‘It must be nearing dusk.’ He went up the exit tunnel and peered out. The light was indeed fading. He saw Trey standing by the pond-side at some distance. He was drinking. Fox pushed his head out and called. ‘Whistler! Whistler! Are you there?’