by Colin Dann
Kestrel was unable to speak.
After some minutes, Badger shook himself.
‘We’ll move on tonight,’ he said. ‘There’s no point in staying here. Do you hear me, everyone? The journey continues. Be ready to leave tonight.’
There was a new authority in his voice which was unmistakable. Tawny Owl said nothing. There was nothing to say. Badger had recovered, and he was the new leader of the party. It was as simple as that. No one wanted to dispute the fact, and, strangely enough, Tawny Owl felt himself quite content with the situation.
17
Which way?
As dusk fell, the animals set out on the next stage of their journey.
Badger informed everyone that he was fully rested, and assured Mole he would not feel his weight on his back. Toad climbed up on Hare, and the party moved off silently, all of them with their minds full of thoughts of their missing leader.
It was a cool, breezy night with clouds chasing overhead, behind which the moon struggled to shed some light.
The rabbits looked a particularly forlorn bunch, for, despite Badger’s forgiveness, they still felt the rest of the animals held them to blame for the loss of the courageous Fox. They shuffled along in the rear of the party, faces down, not caring to meet the eyes of their companions.
The grassy meadows they were passing through smelt sweet and lush, and some of the rabbits, mostly the younger ones, paused to nibble at the scented stalks.
‘Come along! Come along, you youngsters!’ called Rabbit harshly. ‘No dawdling! We don’t want any more trouble.’
After some time had elapsed the animals began to feel the need to talk. It was Weasel who broke the silence.
‘Somehow,’ he said, ‘I still have the feeling that Fox is not lost. Perhaps even now he’s making his way back to us.’
‘Swimming up river?’ suggested Adder sarcastically. He had no time for those who would not accept facts.
‘No, no, of course not,’ said Weasel. ‘It’s just that . . . well, nobody knows for sure what happened to him.’
‘But we are sure he’s no longer with us,’ Adder persisted, ‘and we should therefore get used to the idea that we have to reach our destination without him.’
‘Now, Adder,’ Badger felt obliged to cut in, ‘there’s no harm in hoping, you know.’
‘Oh, as to that,’ the snake replied in a whisper, ‘I hope for a lot of things.’
After this exchange silence prevailed again for a spell. The animals entered the last meadow.
‘What do you see ahead, Owl?’ Toad called to the bird, who was fluttering a little in advance of the band.
‘Looks like open country,’ Tawny Owl called behind him after a moment.
‘Good,’ said Toad. ‘It’s as I expected.’ He raised his voice so that all could hear. ‘A stretch of easy going now,’ he announced. ‘Cheer up, everyone. Things aren’t so bad. We’ve come a long way.’
‘Yes. We have,’ Mole said pointedly, in a small voice.
‘Try not to distress yourself too much,’ said Badger to him. ‘Fox wouldn’t want that, you can be sure.’
‘I’m sorry, Badger,’ said Mole. ‘I know he would wish us to go on. But . . . Oh dear!’ he sighed miserably, and stayed silent.
‘I’ll get you there,’ said Badger encouragingly. ‘You’ll see.’
The animals left the meadow and found themselves on wide, open downland. Underfoot the rich grass rippled beneath the breeze with a gentle waving motion. The air was bracing, the grass springy and soft to walk on. The little party found their spirits lifting despite themselves.
Toad and Mole were determined to share the exhilaration of their friends, and took to their feet, walking side by side.
Hare, freed for a while of responsibility, could not resist the urge to run and jump about, and he called to his mate to join him. Together they gambolled about, chasing each other and racing away at breakneck speed, their long hind legs and lean bodies as supple and elastic as if they were on springs.
All the animals relaxed and travelled at an easy pace. They forgot the anxious moments of the past, and, confident that for the present no danger or hardship was at hand, were determined to enjoy their new sense of freedom.
Badger looked up at Tawny Owl. ‘Won’t you join me for a moment, Owl?’ he asked. ‘Come and have a natter.’
Tawny Owl obliged willingly, and fluttered to the ground by Badger’s side. ‘I’ll walk a few steps with you,’ he said.
‘You know,’ said Badger, ‘this is the first time since we left Farthing Wood that I haven’t wished I was back in my old set. I really feel a sense of adventure at last.’
‘I know what you mean,’ agreed Tawny Owl as he strutted along, his wings folded comfortably on his back. ‘I think we’ve really put our old life behind us now, haven’t we?’
‘Yes,’ said Badger. ‘And I’m glad we weren’t there to witness the wood’s final destruction. At least we have our memories untainted.’
They strolled on, talking of the old days. The party had scattered and spread out into little groups of two or three, but a few walked alone like Adder and Weasel. For once the animals did not feel confined; they were enjoying the extra space.
Suddenly Toad halted, and looked all about him. He looked puzzled. The others stopped too. Some yards away Hare and his mate sat down and looked back.
‘Anything wrong?’ asked Weasel.
‘It’s strange,’ Toad muttered. ‘I’m sure we go straight ahead here, and yet something is nagging at me, drawing me away to the left.’ He shrugged and hopped on in the same direction. His companions continued slowly, keeping their eyes on him.
He halted again after a few more yards. ‘It’s no good,’ he said. ‘This feels wrong to me. I’m not comfortable. My legs want to turn left. And yet . . .’ He looked all round again. ‘Can’t understand it,’ he murmured.
‘Perhaps we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere?’ suggested Squirrel.
‘No. No, that’s just it. I remembered everything quite clearly as we came along.’ Toad was emphatic.
‘Shall we try the other direction,’ Badger asked, ‘if it seems right to you?’
‘All right,’ said Toad, and swung left. The animals reformed into a bunch and followed him.
But Toad did not look happy. He shook his head in a puzzled way, although he did not stop.
‘This should prove interesting,’ Adder drawled. ‘Looks as if our guide has lost himself.’
‘Good gracious!’ exclaimed Badger. ‘I hope not.’
Toad ignored this remark, but continued on with a somewhat grim expression, continually turning his head in all directions, as if searching for a clue.
In the face of Toad’s doubt the travelling began to lose its enjoyment.
Tawny Owl rejoined Kestrel in the air. Kestrel honoured his return with an aerial loop. Tawny Owl was unimpressed. The hawk’s dexterity in the air was a simple matter of fact to him. Now it was night, he, Owl, held sway in his natural element.
The next moment Kestrel’s words seemed, unbidden, to acknowledge the situation. ‘I’m afraid I can’t be of any use in the dark,’ he began, ‘but you can see. Why not fly on ahead and spy out the land? Then Toad will know if we’re on the right track.’
‘Surely you don’t imagine I hadn’t already decided that for myself,’ the owl replied haughtily.
‘You said nothing,’ retorted Kestrel. ‘I’m merely trying to help.’
He watched in annoyance as Tawny Owl flapped his powerful wings harder, and flew away without a word. ‘Can’t bear to be told anything,’ Kestrel muttered in disgust.
‘Where’s Owl off to?’ Mole inquired of Badger.
‘We shall soon see,’ replied Badger. ‘Tawny Owl never does anything without a reason.’
Toad had no need to ponder over the owl’s action. He realized at once what the bird was doing. He felt relief, and at the same time alarm. If it should prove he was leading the party in the wrong directio
n, he knew they would all feel he had let them down. Would they not then lose faith in their guide? Toad shuddered. Every one of them depended on him so much – on his memory. They had trusted him completely so far, and he had not made one error. And now? He longed for, yet dreaded, Tawny Owl’s return. Nevertheless, the strange unseen influence that had made him turn left still beckoned. He plodded on.
Badger could sense Toad’s anxiety; he could feel a definite tenseness in the air.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said kindly, and so quietly that only Toad could hear. ‘If you’ve made a mistake, no one is going to blame you.’
Toad looked up at the familiar striped head and smiled as their eyes met. He could not bring himself to say anything.
‘I suggest we stop for a bit,’ Badger said more loudly. ‘We’ll wait for Tawny Owl.’
Toad nodded unhappily and the animals came to a halt behind him. Most of them stretched out at their ease on the soft grass. Kestrel joined them.
They did not have long to wait. Tawny Owl’s grey shape appeared in the gloom. Every eye was turned on him as he came to rest amongst them. Only Toad failed to look up. His flat, broad head was bowed, as he waited with bated breath.
‘It’s the wrong way,’ Tawny Owl announced with an air of finality. A medley of gasps and sighs followed his words. ‘We’re almost back at the river. We’ve travelled a complete circle.’
Toad felt all eyes were on him, accusing him. His error had cost the animals precious time and effort. Time and effort that was completely wasted.
‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ he sobbed.
Badger was about to speak, while Mole nuzzled their miserable guide, but Tawny Owl had not finished.
‘No need to be sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s quite obvious what’s happened. Your homing instinct has begun to work, just as it did when you were captured before and then escaped on your own. It’s leading you back to your pond at Farthing Wood – your birthplace.’
Toad looked up. ‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘The irresistible urge – pulling me the wrong way.’
The other animals felt they had become victims of a mystery; an age-old mystery over which they had no control.
‘What . . . what do we do now?’ asked Fieldmouse.
‘Simple,’ said Tawny Owl. ‘Turn round and retrace your steps.’
‘But what about Toad?’ said Vole. ‘How can he guide us now?’
‘Fortunately, Toad still has his memory,’ replied Tawny Owl. ‘He can no doubt remember what lies ahead of us on our route.’
Toad nodded.
‘But,’ said Tawny Owl, ‘in future you will have to rely on my guidance by night . . .’
‘And mine by day,’ said Kestrel.
‘Will it work?’ asked Squirrel.
Tawny Owl drew himself up. ‘Of course it will work,’ he said pompously.
18
The butcher bird
The travellers, in fact, made little progress under the guidance of Kestrel and Tawny Owl, but through no fault of theirs. Several of the mother voles and fieldmice presented the party with additions to its number during the next rest period, and these events proved to be a turning point in the journey.
It was obvious to all, particularly to the despairing Badger, that the vole and fieldmouse parents concerned in these births would no longer be able to travel, and a conference of the group leaders was arranged in the resting-place they had chosen in some heath scrub.
‘It looks as if our ranks are to be depleted further, then?’ said Weasel.
‘There’s no other solution,’ Badger said miserably. ‘We can’t put a halt to our journey until these young ones grow up.’
‘It was bound to happen,’ remarked Fieldmouse, ‘but nobody ever mentioned the subject.’
‘If we had reached White Deer Park I would have been delighted with the whole thing,’ said Badger.
‘But we haven’t,’ said Tawny Owl.
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Badger. ‘1 wonder what Fox would have done.’
‘That question shouldn’t arise,’ said Tawny Owl impatiently. ‘We have to decide.’
‘There’s really no decision to make,’ Adder chipped in. ‘If we’re to continue on our way these new broods of our friends the mice must be left behind. If we can’t bring ourselves to do this, then we must all stay here and sing silly songs while they grow big enough to walk. Believe me, there’s no doubt in my mind what we should do.’
‘If it had been left to you, none of us would have been here in the first place,’ said Vole angrily, steeling himself to ignore the horrific leer which served as Adder’s reply.
‘Please, please,’ Badger interrupted hastily, ‘this isn’t getting us anywhere.’
‘Adder’s right, of course,’ said Tawny Owl emphatically. ‘The parent mice concerned will have to do the best they can for their babies, and that is to stay behind. We can help them to look for a home in the area. Then we must go on. All of us are committed to it.’
‘Well, Owl, you know,’ Badger nodded his head as he spoke, ‘I must admit I’m in agreement with you.’
‘Well, I am not !’ retorted Vole. ‘The issue is not so cut and dried as far as we voles and mice are concerned. These creatures are our kith and kin, and we can’t just abandon them here.’ He looked at Fieldmouse for support. ‘I say, if some of the mice stay, we all stay.’
Badger looked distinctly alarmed. ‘Please don’t take that view, Vole,’ he begged.
‘Well, you must realize, Badger,’ said Fieldmouse, ‘there will be no second opportunity for these animals to press on to White Deer Park – even when their babies have grown. I can see Vole’s point of view. How can we take the responsibility of leaving our relatives behind to await – who knows what fate?’
‘I will take the responsibility,’ said Badger stoutly. ‘I am your leader now.’
‘But you’re not a vole or a fieldmouse!’ snapped Vole. ‘You don’t see the situation in the same light.’
‘I really don’t see,’ drawled Adder, ‘why everyone is getting so concerned about something they had no part in.’
Vole and Fieldmouse glared at him.
‘I think you’re forgetting something, Adder,’ said Badger. ‘Before we began our journey we all swore an Oath, including you. That Oath meant that the safety and well-being of any member of the party was the concern of all the others. You should reflect on that,’ he finished in a schoolmasterly tone.
It was not in Adder’s nature to apologize. He merely grinned disarmingly.
Vole and Fieldmouse turned to Badger again.
‘Then surely, Badger,’ Vole said, ‘if that Oath meant anything at all, how can you talk about leaving even one of us behind?’
‘Because, Vole, you know as well as I do that the parents with their babies can’t attempt to travel. But, for the safety of the whole party, we must complete our journey as quickly as possible; and, having come this great way, the rest of you mice should be moving on with us. We’ll do everything possible to find them a safe home here,’ he added. ‘I’m sure they’ll be quite comfortable, you know. It’s a secluded spot.’
‘Thank you, Badger,’ said Fieldmouse, who was inclined to be more reasonable than his cousin. In a persuasive tone he said to Vole, ‘Badger’s in a difficult position, don’t you see? He didn’t ask for this to happen, and he has to think of everyone.’
‘At this moment, I am thinking primarily of my own kind,’ said Vole. ‘You should be, too, Fieldmouse. We have to stand by them. I can’t go on if any of them stay behind.’
‘I’m sorry, Badger,’ Fieldmouse muttered. ‘I’m afraid Vole is right.’
‘If that is your decision I shall have to accept it,’ said Badger sadly. ‘But our priority is to reach our destination. In Fox’s absence, I have to see that the rest of us succeed. I’m sorry.’
Vole shrugged and left the meeting without another word. Fieldmouse lingered, as if in two minds, but finally followed his cousin.
‘It’s nat
ural they feel so concerned,’ said Weasel.
The conference broke up with the intention of searching for the best settling-place for the voles and fieldmice as soon as it was daylight.
Badger wandered off alone to think. The break-up of the party that had already travelled so far preyed on his mind, and he found himself thinking how happy he would have been if he had had Fox to consult. But the animals depended on him now, and he must see them through.
As soon as it was light, a number of the animals, led by Badger, set off to look for a new home for the mouse contingent. It was not a difficult task, as these small creatures’ requirements were modest.
On the advice of Fieldmouse they chose a spot in a thicket of birch scrub, where the leaf litter was thick and soft, and there was plenty of cover in the way of twigs and bracken. Vole agreed that the sunny hillside nearby would make the area ideal for his group, and the animals hastened back with the news.
The mice and voles were soon comfortably installed in their new home and, after all the farewells had been made, the main party continued on its way with Kestrel as guide.
As the sun rose higher, the day grew hotter and hotter, and the animals’ pace became correspondingly slower. They were relieved to find a little stream at which to quench their thirst, and the shallow gurgling water was so inviting that several of the animals followed Toad’s example and stepped into it to cool themselves.
The countryside seemed so empty and peaceful that Badger decided to pause awhile, until they were all completely refreshed.
Kestrel and Tawny Owl flew on ahead to spy out the land, and the sunny, quiet day lulled the animals into a state of drowsiness. Toad was floating blissfully on the stream’s surface, buffeted gently by the ripples, his limbs spread out, and his beautiful jewelled eyes glinting as they reflected the sun. He was half asleep.
Suddenly he returned to full consciousness with a jolt. He heard a violent squeaking noise and saw a small, fierce bird flying overhead with a tiny, wriggling fieldmouse clamped firmly in its beak.
