by Colin Dann
‘Hurry up, Fox!’ Kestrel called, as he hovered above them, his eyes turned towards the fire. ‘The flames are racing this way! Quickly, quickly!’
Weasel, having watched the plight of the rabbits, knew that the water would completely cover his low-slung body if he endeavoured to walk across. So, with grim determination, he entered the dark water and began to swim towards the island.
Toad and Adder were quick to join him, and, keeping their various pairs of eyes fixed firmly on the little island where their friends were cheering them on, they struck out bravely.
Adder undulated swiftly through the water, only his small head above the surface, and as he neared land, Fox and Badger were running back across the causeway for their third load.
While Badger carried the young rabbits, Fox managed the small hedgehogs. As they stepped towards the brink again, the fire was roaring at them from both directions.
‘You’ll have to swim for it too!’ Fox panted to Hedgehog and the other adults. ‘No time to come back again.’ As he and Badger raced for safety, the flames burst upon the hedgehogs, who leapt in one bunch for the water.
Kestrel dropped from the sky like a bullet, while Tawny Owl and the pheasants had long ago flown to join their companions.
Adder and Toad, both of whom were excellent swimmers, had soon reached dry land again. All of the animals were now safe from the fire, although some were still struggling in the water.
The hedgehogs, and Weasel too, were good swimmers, but their feet were continually becoming entangled in the weeds and reedy water-plants. This made the crossing doubly tiring, but they helped each other and shouted encouragement, as did all the animals already on the island, until finally, the last dripping body emerged from the water on to dry land.
With a quite unconscious movement, all the animals clustered closely together as they watched the dancing flames across the water. Standing in a tightly-knit group, each individual experienced a comforting feeling of security and mutual affection.
Fox voiced their common feelings. ‘In the face of danger,’ he said, ‘we have managed to forge a community. We are all members of one unit and we can never be divided.’
Although he spoke the words quietly, there was some emotion evident in his voice which communicated itself to all of them. Every animal and bird felt that, whatever else might happen to them on their journey, this particular moment would always retain a vivid significance.
Then they heard the voices. They were human voices, calling directions and advice to each other as they fought the fire. They saw tall dark shapes, in helmets and thick coats, wielding huge pipes, which gushed water at the flames. Other men were beating the ground with stout staves to which were fixed heavy fireproof cloths.
‘The humans will soon win this battle,’ Tawny Owl declared knowingly. ‘You can already see the flames receding.’
‘All this damage and horror was caused by one foolish human,’ said Toad. ‘And all of it has to be put right by these others of his kind who had no hand in it.’
‘They’re certainly a strange species,’ agreed Badger. ‘I never pretended to understand them.’
As the animals watched the flames gradually diminishing under the efforts of the firefighters, many of them felt, for perhaps the first time, an unusual kinship with the humans who shared their desire to see the fire, their mutual enemy, quenched. Yet this kinship, they each understood, was to be short-lived. For as soon as the fire was finally overcome, the very presence of the humans at such close quarters posed a new problem for their freedom. As long as the men remained on the other side of the causeway, the animals’ safest escape route was blocked.
Fox turned towards Badger, and found his eyes on him. He saw they reflected his own thoughts. Fox beckoned his friend aside, and motioned to Tawny Owl and Kestrel to join them.
‘I think we shall all have to swim for it,’ Fox said.
‘Not quite all of us, of course,’ Tawny Owl needlessly corrected him. ‘But I see your point. The humans are far too close for comfort.’
‘We still have one advantage,’ Badger pointed out. ‘They haven’t spotted us yet.’
‘Don’t rely on that,’ the pessimistic Owl warned him. ‘At the moment they’re too intent on their work to look about them. I don’t think we should fool ourselves. There’s virtually no cover of any value on the island. As soon as they’ve mastered that fire, we shall be noticed.’
‘Tawny Owl’s right,’ Fox agreed, grimly nodding his chestnut head. ‘As I see it, we’ve two alternatives. We can swim across to another side of the marsh, or we can wait until the fire is put out, and then make a dash for it back across the causeway.’
‘Right under their noses?’ Kestrel asked in amazement.
‘The element of surprise could give us just the few minutes we need to get clear,’ Fox answered.
‘Better still,’ suggested Badger, ‘the birds could create some diversion – I don’t exactly know how – that might enable us to slip past without even being spotted.’
‘I’m afraid you’re forgetting two very important points,’ Tawny Owl said somewhat pompously. ‘First of all, it will take several trips across that causeway before you’re all back on the mainland again; just as when you were coming on to the island. Secondly, even when the fire is out, the ground will remain red-hot for some time. None of you animals could possibly set foot on it, and as for Adder – why, he’d be roasted alive.’
‘Of course,’ muttered Fox. ‘I must say, Owl,’ he added after a moment, ‘your judgement is of the greatest value.’
Tawny Owl passed off the compliment with the words, ‘I merely wish to help,’ but he was not entirely successful in disguising an expression that was a little smug.
‘What do you advise?’ Fox asked him.
‘If all of you were powerful swimmers, and if there were no juveniles, I shouldn’t hesitate to advise you to swim for it straight away,’ Tawny Owl replied. ‘But even the fully grown hedgehogs, and Weasel, had the utmost difficulty in swimming to the island. So I think there’s only one course open to you. You will simply have to stay put, and trust in the good nature of the humans, or in the likelihood of their being too exhausted, after their efforts, to bother about a handful of wildlife.’
Badger and Fox knew there was nothing they could say to refute Tawny Owl’s statement.
‘However,’ Kestrel added, ‘although I’m sure you’ve correctly summed up the situation, Owl, there’s still a possibility of we birds diverting the humans’ attention, as Badger suggested.’
‘Only for a few minutes, surely,’ argued Tawny Owl.
‘Unless we can attract their attention, and make them follow us far enough, and for long enough, to leave the coast clear for the animals to get away.’
‘Sounds like a very long shot to me.’ Tawny Owl shrugged his wings.
‘It’s worth a try,’ Kestrel said pointedly, and with some irritation.
While the four of them were debating the point, a gleeful shout, repeated by all the other animals, reached their ears. ‘There’s Mole! There’s Mole!’
They broke off their conversation, and Fox and Badger looked at each other in astonishment. They hastily rejoined the others, who were all craning their necks over the water, and standing on the very edge of the island, completely disregarding the danger of their toppling in.
On the edge of the marsh there were now only one or two isolated pockets of flames. One of the firefighters, who appeared to have only recently come on to the scene, had removed his jacket and was mopping his brow. He had quite carelessly dropped the coat in a bundle on to the ashy ground, and from one of the deep pockets Mole had half emerged, and was peering short-sightedly all around.
The man had fortunately not heard the animals’ cries of excitement, which to him would merely have sounded like a chorus of yelps and squeaks, but Fox at once told everyone to remain silent.
The animals suffered unbearable tension as Mole, not seeming to be in too much o
f a hurry, pulled himself right out of the pocket, and stepped off the jacket.
‘He’ll burn himself !’ said Tawny Owl.
But Mole seemed to feel no ill effects, and began to wander aimlessly around over the ashy ground.
‘Quick, Kestrel, and Owl, I beg you, go up in the air and catch that man’s eye,’ said Fox urgently. ‘I’ll try to reach Mole myself.’
The birds glanced at one another for an instant, and then together swooped into the air, uttering their loudest cries.
‘Hoo-hoo-hooooo,’ called Tawny Owl.
‘Kew-kew-kee-kee-kee,’ screeched Kestrel, soaring like an arrow way up into the sky, and then diving downwards again, as straight as a javelin.
The man, still holding his handkerchief in one hand, looked up at the cloudless sky. Kestrel and Tawny Owl began to loop round and round each other like two giant gnats, still hooting and screeching as loud as they could.
With one eye on the man, Fox stepped down on to the causeway and streaked towards the shore. The two birds continued to make such a racket that the noise of Fox’s splashing was quite unnoticeable.
He reached the other side safely, and realized at once why Mole had appeared to walk quite comfortably over the burnt ground. The gallons of water squirted from the pumps had cooled the surface tremendously, and though it still felt warm, the soft ashy deposit was extremely comfortable to the feet. This encouraged Fox a great deal, and in a few bounds he had reached Mole.
At the suddenness of Fox’s approach Mole began to make little twittering noises of alarm. The two animals exchanged not a word as Mole quickly climbed on to Fox’s back, and Fox at once turned back for the causeway.
At this moment the man, who had been staring up at the two birds, found his eyes beginning to water, and was obliged to look down again. Out of the corner of one eye he saw a blurred shape dash past, and turning round, saw Fox, with his passenger, jump into the water and run back towards the island.
‘Well, I’ll be . . . !’ he muttered, walking quickly to the water’s edge to look more closely. He saw at once the promontory of land running underneath the water, and, looking along its length, soon spotted the little collection of creatures on the island.
‘Good – ness gra – cious!’ he exclaimed loudly, and began to call his colleagues. ‘Quick, lads, come and look at this! There’s a regular zoo over there! Just look at them!’
Most of the other men joined him at once, leaving only two beaters at work on the remnants of the flames. Standing in a line by the waterside, they stared pop-eyed at the animals gathered on the island. Even as they stood, unable to speak, Tawny Owl and Kestrel dropped from the blue and landed amongst their friends.
‘It’s . . . it’s uncanny,’ one of the men whispered. ‘Where have they come from?’
The animals, with their party once again complete, faced the humans with a feeling of solidarity. Behind the men, now joined by the last two beaters, stood the huge scarlet engine, like a dormant monster, in an expanse of black and ash-grey. The fire was out.
And so the two groups confronted each other: human faces staring at animal faces, and animal faces staring back, both wondering who would move first.
11
The storm
While the animals and the men had all been absorbed in watching or fighting the progress of the fire, they had not noticed a dark formation of cloud moving slowly towards them. Only Kestrel, sporting with Tawny Owl in the sky, had seen this bank of cloud, but the significance of its approach had not really impressed itself upon him. Now, as the party of animals on their little island stood wondering if they were once again in danger, the first rumblings of thunder could be heard.
The men looked at each other questioningly, and then upwards, noting for the first time the gathering clouds. The slight breeze that had prevailed had blown up into a strong wind, and so the clouds came on apace. The end of the long drought was at hand.
It was only a matter of minutes, while the two groups still stood somewhat uncertainly facing each other, before the first heavy spots of rain fell on the scorched ground. The reverberations of thunder became louder and louder, and it grew steadily darker. The sun was blotted out. Finally lightning began to flicker across the dark sky, and the rain started to fall in real earnest.
The animals felt the welcome wetness on their bodies, and Toad, who always enjoyed really wet weather, leapt joyfully off the bank into the water, and paddled up and down croaking happily.
The men, who only minutes earlier would have rejoiced at the rain, now instinctively behaved as all members of the human race do in such a situation. They dispersed to find shelter from the downpour.
This was the very chance Fox had been hoping for. He hastily called Toad out of the water and on to his back, while he bid Mole take up his usual position on the back of Badger.
‘Now, follow me!’ said Fox in urgent tones, ‘as swiftly as you can!’
On to the causeway he jumped, with the larger animals following close behind.
Three trips Fox and Badger made through the heavy rain before all of the animals were safely on land again.
‘Which way do we take?’ Fox asked the passenger Toad.
‘Straight ahead,’ he replied. ‘That will bring us to the fence on the other side of the army land. Then we’re into the farmland. We’ll have to go carefully, but there will be plenty of shelter.’
Water pouring from their drenched fur, and their heads bent beneath its fury, the animals slunk through the downpour. Only Toad and Adder, who had no fur to worry about, seemed to enjoy the feel of the rain. Toad tried to croak a little tune to cheer up the others, but the deafening noise of the peals of thunder unfortunately smothered his good intentions.
Tawny Owl and the other birds had been flying on ahead for short distances, and then waiting for the rest of the party to catch them up.
‘This is most unfortunate,’ the soaked Badger remarked to Tawny Owl as he passed him again. ‘First the fire, now a torrent of water. We really couldn’t have been more unlucky.’
‘You should remember, Badger, that it afforded us just the diversion we needed,’ Tawny Owl pointed out.
‘Yes, I suppose we should be grateful that we’ve come this far and are still all together.’
‘I’m the luckiest of all,’ said Mole. ‘I was given up for dead.’
‘You would have had only your own greed to thank for that,’ Tawny Owl said sternly.
‘Oh well now, Owl,’ Badger said, ‘I’m sure he’s learnt his lesson.’
‘Thank you, Badger,’ Mole said timidly.
Tawny Owl flew on ahead again, and the animals remained silent for some time.
Suddenly, Mole said, ‘But we’re not all still together.’
‘The lizards?’ asked Fox quietly.
‘Yes.’
‘I was rather hoping no one would mention them,’ Fox said.
‘If only I could have persuaded them to have stayed on the journey,’ Badger said miserably. ‘I knew they were taking the wrong decision. And now . . .’ he broke off, unable to finish the sentence.
‘They may have escaped,’ Fox said with false heartiness, but he knew it was no comfort to Badger, who refused to be consoled.
Presently they crossed beyond the limit of the burnt ground which marked the extent of the fire in this direction, and after that the soil became increasingly spongy and soggy. The small animals, with their lighter weight, were able to run over the surface fairly easily, but the heavier animals began to slow down considerably.
The rain continued to pour down, and soon Fox, Badger, and the hares and rabbits, found that their paws were sinking into the softening ground. As they trudged on, the situation worsened. They sank up to their ankles in mud.
‘We’ll have to keep on.’ Fox barely turned his head to call behind him. ‘There’s no shelter here, and this mud will only get worse.’
Toad had long since ceased his singing, and was peering ahead through the rain. ‘Yes, the
re it is!’ he suddenly cried. ‘I can see it! I can see the railings! Not much further!’
Heartened by the news, the line of animals put on a little spurt. Soon they could all see the line of metal posts and rails which was the boundary of the army land.
Beyond the fence was a thick hedgerow of shrubbery and thorn trees, where Kestrel, Tawny Owl and the pheasants were already sheltering, while they preened their drenched feathers. They watched the animals threading their way underneath the rails. They looked a sorry sight, with their fur plastered down, and streams of water dripping from their sides.
Fox led them into a thick mass of holly shrubbery, where the closely packed leaves had kept the ground underneath comparatively dry. They sank down with dejected faces and empty stomachs.
The mother rabbits and mice had to quieten their hungry children. There was no possibility of looking for food until the storm abated.
Their shelter was periodically lit by a dazzling brightness as the lightning flashed directly overhead. Some of the animals endeavoured to sleep.
Toad wanted Adder to join him in a foraging expedition, but the snake declined. ‘I’m too tired,’ he drawled. ‘I haven’t been riding all the way like you.’
‘Please yourself.’ Toad shrugged, and wandered off into the teeming rain to look for slugs and worms.
The other animals looked at each other miserably. They felt very wet and very uncomfortable.
Badger thought of his old, dry, comfortable set and wondered what had become of it. ‘It’ll be many long weeks before I can build another one,’ he thought to himself.
Weasel and the voles, and Fox and the rabbits, also wished they were in their snug underground homes. Mole wondered if he dare dig a tunnel for comfort, but feared Badger’s disapproval.
So the merciless rain lashed down. Toad, returning from his hunting foray, found the animals’ makeshift shelter was getting damper and damper. Eventually they were as wet as if they had remained in the open.
