Tales from Sty-Pen - Swerlie-Wherlie Meets Sox the Fox

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Tales from Sty-Pen - Swerlie-Wherlie Meets Sox the Fox Page 1

by Brian Leo Lee


Tales

  from Sty-Pen

  Brian Leo Lee

  Published by Brian Leo Lee

  Copyright 2016 Brian Leo Lee

  Cover and Illustrations by Brian Leo Lee

  Copyright 2016

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  Swerlie-Wherlie

  Meets

  Sox the Fox

  The noise in the sty-pen was so loud it had given Swerlie-Wherlie a headache. So, getting to his trotters, he shook off a load of straw from his small back and called out

  'Hey you lot, pack it in. Now.'

  All of his eleven brothers and sisters stopped arguing and looked over to his corner. They could tell that he was upset.

  Swerlie-Wherlie was the youngest of the litter and Mumsy had told all of them that they must look after him at all times. He was so small compared to his brothers and sisters and he often got forgotten about in the crowded sty-pen.

  'That's better,' said Swerlie-Wherlie as he pushed through the squabbling piglets and carefully climbed over Mumsy, who was trying to have her afternoon sleep in a shady part of the sty-pen.

  Pushing the sty-pen gate open, he turned round and said in a low voice, 'I'm going for a walk to get some peace and quiet. Keep it down so Mumsy can have her nap. Okay.'

  Oinky-Oinky, the oldest piglet whispered back, 'We'll try our best.'

  Swerlie-Wherlie walked around the big tractor, careful not to wake Cockie the Cockerel, who was trying to catch up on his lost sleep. He had after all been awake since sun-up. There was a shout from the sty-pen. 'It's my turn you cheat ........'

  'Come on,' he, said to himself. 'Let's get away from here before I get really annoyed.'

  The afternoon was sunny and warm, just the weather for a nice walk.

  Passing through the cornfield gate, Swerlie-Wherlie went along the hedgerow growing that side of the field, eventually reaching the giant acorn tree in the bottom corner.

  A hole in the hedge by the tree, allowed him to climb down, then up the side of a dyke, which drained the cornfield. Fortunately, there had been no rain for a few days, so it was dry.

  A path by the dyke went down the hill towards a stream that Swerlie-Wherlie had first been shown by his friend Izzzzzabela the grass snake. He hadn't seen her for ages. He hoped she was all right.

  The stream today was really only a trickle of water. This was the chance he had been waiting for. Across the other side of the steam, at this very spot, was a small wood and he could smell hazelnuts.

  If there is one thing a piglet likes to eat more than acorns, it is hazelnuts.'

  So, sniffing eagerly, he paddled through the nearly empty stream and entered the small wood.

  As he entered a little sunlit glade (a small open grassy space), he heard the sound of crying.

  On the far side of the glade by a bush, he saw a small animal. It was a fox cub, and it had been caught in a snare.

  Swerlie-Wherlie was shocked at what he saw. Something was pulled tight round the fox cub's neck and it was connected to a piece of wood stuck into the ground.

  As the fox cub struggled, the thing round its neck had tightened and the poor animal was choking.

  'Keep still,' Swerlie-Wherlie said as he rushed over to help.

  The fox cub twisted its head painfully and saw him.

  'No, don't move,' Swerlie-Wherlie said urgently. 'You will hurt yourself even more.'

  The poor fox cub was lying on its side, panting. It had stopped crying when Swerlie-Wherlie arrived and now it watched him with frightened eyes.

  He looked carefully at the thing round the fox cub's neck and noticed that it stretched to the stick in the ground.

  If I got that stick out of the ground, thought Swerlie-Wherlie, it would make the thing around the neck looser.

  So, he put his snout (nose), next to the stick and began to root (dig) up the ground.

  A pig snout is ready made for digging in the ground and it only took a few moments for him to loosen the soil and the stick fell over.

  The fox cub rolled over as the stick became loose and began to breathe much easier. The thing round the neck was loose as well.

  'Wait a minute, wait a minute,' said Swerlie-Wherlie. 'You're not free yet.'

  Then he noticed something else.

  The thing was actually a thin strap of material which was split and then joined together again by a special link, which, if pressed together, came apart.

  By pure chance, Swerlie-Wherlie bit this part and the thing broke in two.

 

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