by Colin Dann
‘If Badger’s gone outside the Park, then why don’t we go after him?’ suggested Weasel. ‘He’s not so swift-footed that we couldn’t soon catch him up.’
‘Yes, and which direction would we go in?’ Adder demanded. ‘Would we all go crawling about over the countryside together? Or take different paths? That way there’d be more than just Owl and Badger numbered among the lost. As it is, if I don’t get underground soon I shall be lost anyway. Lost for good if the frost gets to me.’
‘Nobody’s asking you to hang around,’ Weasel pointed out.
‘Thank you for your civility,’ Adder hissed. ‘D’you think I can sleep the winter away without knowing if Badger will be here to greet when I wake again?’
‘Well, well, you snakes must become more sentimental as you get older,’ Weasel remarked. ‘I’ve never known you admit to such feelings before.’
‘Never you mind about that,’ Adder rasped, his demeanour resuming its usual mask of nonchalance. ‘I think it was you who was instrumental in driving out Tawny Owl from amongst our company?’
‘Never!’ Weasel cried. ‘Not I! I’d never do such a thing. I acknowledge I may have pulled his leg once or twice but how could I have foreseen the consequences? Why, I’ve never ceased to rue the day he left. All I want is for us all to be together again especially as – well’ – here his voice dropped, even trembling slightly – ‘as we all grow older.’
Whistler said, ‘I’ll fly a reconnoitre now and again. But you know I had no luck seeking out Owl. It may be as unrewarding looking for Badger.’
‘There’s one advantage,’ said Friendly. ‘Badger’s on the ground. Easier to spot an animal than a bird.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Whistler promised.
Fox turned to Adder. ‘Please don’t put yourself at risk,’ he advised the snake. ‘Toad’s already slumbering in his winter quarters. We don’t want any more losses.’
‘I’ll wait awhile,’ Adder said firmly. ‘There have been no frosts so far. And one thing’s for sure. There is no dearth of leaves to bury myself in at night.’
‘If you should need extra warmth,’ Vixen offered graciously, ‘our earth can be the cosiest of places . . .’
Adder’s tongue flickered busily. He was strangely moved. ‘D’you know, Vixen,’ he said softly, ‘that sinking my fangs into that horse’s leg, so long ago now, is something I’ve always considered as one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life?’ The snake’s red eyes seemed to glow particularly brightly for an instant and Vixen didn’t fail to notice.
‘I’ve never forgotten it,’ she whispered, ‘and I never shall.’
Whistler began flying over the downland the very same day. His eyes scanned the mass of green for a flash of black and white that would reveal Badger’s whereabouts. No other animal had that unmistakable colouring. But while the heron coasted and soared on his broad wings, Badger had paused to rest in the shadow of a large building. He had made uncertain progress but the church under whose walls he now lay sleeping was the first positive reminder to him that he had chosen the correct route. Just like Tawny Owl before him, it was the one recognizable landmark for him in that region. And, even as he snored in the open with his back pressed against the stonework, Tawny Owl and Holly were heading for the very same building from the opposite direction.
19
Home
TAWNY OWL’S JOURNEY back to White Deer Park had not been the happy one he had planned. Holly had taken charge of all hunting activities since he had exhausted himself on the first stage of their flight. She had nurtured him with the plumpest of the prey she had caught, almost as if he were a fledgling. Much as he enjoyed these tasty meals, Owl was only grudgingly grateful as, with each day, he felt he was losing more of his independence. Holly also made sure he didn’t overtax his stiffened wing muscles, and of this he was quite glad since as soon as his strength returned fully he intended to end his reliance on her. The only function left to Tawny Owl now, over which Holly could exert no control, was his navigation of their route. One by one the major features of the journey – the river, the area of the Hunt, the motorway, the town – were marked and passed. Now Owl set their course for the church.
Sometimes, when Holly had been particularly irksome, he wondered about leaving her in whatever roost they had chosen that day, and then flying away as she slept. There were occasions when he definitely wished to be rid of her. But something always held him back. He would remind himself that he would lose the very thing for which he had left White Deer Park in the first place – a mate. And he was conscious of the fact that he did owe a debt of gratitude to the female owl. She had kept him alive when he had been trapped in the beech at Farthinghurst. So they stayed together and now they neared the end of their journey.
Holly was constantly asking about when they would arrive. Tawny Owl always replied that, once the church was within their sights, they were as good as home. When at last he spied the building ahead, feelings of excitement, relief, anticipation and also uncertainty flooded over him. All along he had dreaded finding what the storm had done to White Deer Park. And now that moment had almost arrived. The two birds flew straight to the church and Tawny Owl, remembering the indignation of the colony of belfry bats, led Holly to the nave roof instead where they perched side by side.
‘So this is it at last,’ Holly breathed. There was no mistaking her own excitement. The stars shone brilliantly in the wide expanse of sky. It was a perfect night for hunting. ‘I’ll waste no time,’ she said to Owl. ‘The sooner we eat the sooner we can complete our journey. And, just think, the next time I hunt it will be in the Park itself.’
Tawny Owl flexed his supple wings. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘This is the last occasion when you bring me my food. You must stop treating me like an owlet.’
Holly looked at him askance. She guessed his thoughts. ‘There’s no need for your friends to know about our arrangement,’ she said archly. ‘I’m sure they don’t watch you hunt?’
‘Well no, but –’
‘Very well then,’ she interrupted. ‘I can go on looking after you just as before. You should be grateful to be relieved of the tedium of hunting. You’ll have a most comfortable and cosseted old age, I promise you.’
‘Look, I don’t want . . .’Owl began peevishly, but it was no good. Holly flew away without listening just as she always did. ‘How am I to get her to understand?’ he fluted in exasperation. He watched the bats darting on their aerobatic flights from the belfry. Then he glanced down and, by the south side of the church he saw an animal stirring in the shadows. The striking striped head of a badger was illuminated by the crisp autumn starlight. Tawny Owl gasped. He could scarcely believe his eyes. In his amazement he almost overbalanced from his perch on the roof. He recognized Badger instantaneously.
‘Badger! Badger!’ he called and swooped downwards.
The old animal looked up with a puzzled expression. Then he saw Tawny Owl who alighted next to him.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Owl asked in an astounded voice.
‘Oh, Owl,’ said Badger who was still very confused, ‘you shouldn’t have come looking for me.’
‘I didn’t come looking for you,’ replied the bird. ‘Whatever are you talking about? I haven’t seen you at all for the whole of the summer. And wherever are you going?’
‘Going?’ mumbled Badger. ‘Oh – um – going home, Owl. Going home.’
‘I should think so. But why have you left it?’
‘Left what?’
‘Home.’
‘Well, we all left it, didn’t we, when we travelled across country to the – to the . . .’
‘You’re not making any sense,’ Tawny Owl interjected. He could tell that something was wrong with Badger. ‘Now, tell me again. Where are you going?’
Badger looked at him as if he thought it was the owl who was out of his wits. ‘Well – Farthing Wood, of course.’
‘FARTHING WOOD?!’
‘Yes, I have
to get home, you see, because I can’t live out in the open. I need shelter and – and –’
‘Badger, stop. It seems there’s something seriously wrong. Now, what’s happened? What’s the matter with you?’
‘The matter with me?’ Badger echoed. ‘Well, I should have thought that was obvious. I’m homeless, Owl. That’s what I am. Homeless.’
Tawny Owl was able to put two and two together. He realized there had been destruction in the Park and now he dreaded more than ever what he was going to see. But he tried to concentrate on Badger’s troubles. ‘Your home is White Deer Park,’ he prompted. ‘Why have you left the others? Where are they?’
‘Oh, they’re all right,’ Badger answered sensibly enough. ‘They didn’t lose their homes like me. So they – er – they’ve stayed put.’
Tawny Owl was moved by his old friend’s sad plight. ‘Dear Badger,’ he said. ‘You don’t understand. There is no Farthing Wood. So you must turn back and go along with me.’
But Badger, who had almost lost his reason, couldn’t accept this. ‘Of course there’s a Farthing Wood,’ he disputed. ‘What a ridiculous thing to say about the place we all grew up in!’
‘Oh Badger, have you no memory?’ Owl cried. ‘The wood was destroyed! Why ever else would we have left it?’
‘It was being destroyed when we left,’ Badger agreed, ‘but most of it was still there. Well, some of it . . .’ He was beginning to sound uncertain.
‘Well, it isn’t there now,’ Tawny Owl insisted in a loud voice as though Badger might be deaf. ‘I’ve been there – all the way back. There’s not one stick left standing. No, not one plant. Everywhere is covered with human dwellings. So you must turn back.’
The old animal seemed to be trying to register this information. He couldn’t quite grasp it. ‘You – you’ve been there?’ he repeated.
‘Yes.’
Badger was regaining a semblance of his wits. ‘Is that where you’ve been all this time?’
‘A lot of it, yes. I’ve a long story to tell you.’
‘But why did you go there?’ Badger asked perplexedly as he noticed a second owl skimming towards them.
‘Here’s one reason,’ Tawny Owl replied as Holly arrived, with her bill crammed with food. ‘Now, why don’t we all eat together?’
Gradually, with Owl’s patient help, Badger’s understanding began to return. He saw how his foolishness had resulted from the shock of finding himself without a home. When they were ready, they set off for the Park. Badger was very slow, but Tawny Owl was determined not to let the old creature out of his sight and was quite satisfied to fly in short bursts to accommodate his slower pace. As for Holly, for once she was content to take a back seat.
As they went, Tawny Owl was able to piece together from what Badger told him, how the hurricane had devastated the Park. He learnt of the poisoned stream, too, but that despite everything all his old companions had survived. Then he, in his turn, described to Badger his own adventures and the sad fall of the last relic of Farthing Wood.
‘So you see, we only have one home, don’t we?’ he summed up. ‘And that’s White Deer Park.’
It was broad daylight as they approached the Nature Reserve. Tawny Owl sought out a suitable entry point for Badger where the fencing was not yet repaired. High in the air, Whistler saw the three travellers, flew closer to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him and then, with a ‘krornk’ of utmost delight raced to rouse Fox, Vixen, Weasel and Adder.
So when Badger trudged once more into the Park, the group of friends were there to greet him and the long-lost Tawny Owl.
‘I hardly dared hope for this,’ Fox murmured emotionally. ‘It’s a day like no other. How did you come together?’
‘There’s much to tell,’ Tawny Owl answered joyfully.
‘My heart beats for both of you,’ Vixen whispered to the two lost ones. ‘And, Owl, I see you’ve not travelled unaccompanied?’
Holly was speechless at the sight of the gathered group, so many of them seemed to her like living legends. Tawny Owl wasn’t slow to notice this.
‘No, I’ve had good company,’ he said, ‘though, as you can see,’ he added mischievously, ‘it’s been difficult for me to get a word in edgeways.’
There was much amusement at his remark, though the animals did not, as yet, understand its irony. Weasel was so relieved to see the return of Tawny Owl that he was quite unable to offer him any banter.
‘Well, at long last I can retire,’ hissed Adder. ‘Sinuous has given me up for lost. I’ve seen what I wanted to see and I don’t wish for any more than that. Badger, Owl – I salute you, though you have caused me discomfort. Farewell, All. Till the spring!’
They watched him slither hastily away.
‘Come, Badger, old friend,’ said Fox. ‘We have something to show you.’ He led the way and eventually they all arrived at Fox and Vixen’s earth. Next to it there were new earthworks. While Badger looked on in wonder, clods of earth were thrown up from within this new construction which landed almost at his feet.
‘It’s not quite ready yet,’ Fox said apologetically. ‘But there’s a company of busy fox paws digging away, as well as others’. You won’t have too long to wait.’
‘Me?’ Badger murmured. ‘Is it for me?’
‘Of course it’s for you. Who else?’ said Fox. ‘You’re to be our near neighbour. And what could be better than that?’
‘Nothing,’ said Badger. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘It’ll be your home for ever,’ Fox told him. ‘We shall stay close together for the rest of our lives.’
Just then Mossy surfaced from the new set. ‘The foxes dig so furiously,’ he said, ‘I’m in danger of being buried.’ He rushed to be re-united with Badger.
‘I think,’ said Tawny Owl to Holly, ‘we can safely leave them to it for now. Animals have their own habits and we birds’ – here he flapped his wings vigorously – ‘we have other occupations. The story of Farthinghurst can wait. As for now, I propose we make a circuit of the Park. I haven’t seen it for a while and I need to re-acquaint myself with my best hunting terrain. Come on, I’ll show you around.’
Holly promptly followed him as he launched into flight.
‘Well!’ exclaimed Weasel. ‘That’s something I never thought I’d see.’
About the Author
Colin Dann won the Arts Council National Award for Children’s Literature for his first novel, The Animals of Farthing Wood.
Also by Colin Dann
The Ram of Sweetriver
The King of the Vagabonds
The Beach Dogs
Just Nuffin
A Great Escape
A Legacy of Ghosts
The Farthing Wood Series:
Animals of Farthing Wood
In the Grip of Winter
Fox’s Feud
Fox Cub Bold
The Siege of White Deer Park
In the Path of the Storm
IN THE PATH OF THE STORM
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 48077 9
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, 1989
Illustrations copyright © Trevor Newton, 1989
First Published in Great Britain
Red Fox 9780099205517 2011
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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