by Colin Dann
‘I do indeed,’ Fox said. ‘Never ever will I forget the river crossing.’ He referred to an incident during the animals’ long journey to the Park when the rabbits had panicked badly and caused a disaster.
‘All right, all right,’ nodded Rabbit. ‘Neither am I ever likely to, even if allowed.’
‘No hurt intended, I assure you,’ said Fox quickly.
‘Don’t mention it,’ was the reply. Then Rabbit smiled. ‘Where else in the Wild would a fox talk so politely to a rabbit?’
Fox smiled back, and Rabbit turned to go.
The afternoon brought an excited Kestrel to Fox’s earth. His piercing cries brought Fox and Vixen hurriedly to the surface.
‘What is it, Kestrel? You do seem in a state,’ Fox said.
‘I’ve just spotted that ginger cat walking in the Warden’s garden,’ he shrieked.
Fox misunderstood the motive for the hawk’s excitement. ‘Calm down, calm down,’ he said. ‘You just make sure you don’t go in too close, and he won’t attack you again. Your scars healed perfectly, didn’t they?’
‘No, no, it’s not that,’ Kestrel said hurriedly. ‘I hadn’t even thought of it. You don’t seem to have grasped the significance of the cat’s reappearance. The Warden must be back!’ He looked triumphantly at the pair of foxes, as if he had brought the man and his cat back personally.
‘Of course!’ said Fox. ‘The cat disappeared at the same time, didn’t he? Oh but, Kestrel, can we be sure?’
‘I would have hovered around a little longer to make sure,’ said Kestrel, ‘but I wanted to bring you the news.’
‘It’s marvellous news,’ said Vixen. ‘It means we can all breathe again. The poachers won’t dare come back now.’
‘I’ll fly straight back and see if I can spot our protector,’ Kestrel offered. ‘Then we can spread the word.’
‘Oh, this calls for a celebration,’ said Fox happily. ‘If the Warden is indeed back with us our worries are over.’
The Warden had returned and, to prove it, was seen on his rounds later in the day by many of the animals. Badger and Fox stood together by Badger’s set talking.
‘What changes will he see since he went away?’ Badger mused. ‘If only we could tell him of those who have been killed.’
‘If he counts the head of white deer he will see their numbers have dropped,’ said Fox. ‘But he may not be suspicious of it.’
‘How I wish those slaughterers could be brought before him,’ growled Badger. ‘Why should they escape their punishment?’
‘Well, we’re helpless in the matter,’ said Fox. ‘But, at least, no more creatures will meet their fate in the Park at their hands.’
Little did Fox imagine then that Badger’s wish was to be fulfilled, and that the animals of Farthing Wood were to be the instruments of bringing the offenders to justice. For the poachers, ignorant of the Warden’s return, were about to make one trip too many to the Nature Reserve.
Fox’s own cunning, which perhaps led him to anticipate better than other creatures the way humans might behave, was to be proved right again in his doubts expressed to the Great Stag. The poachers, it seemed, were still determined to wreak revenge where they could, although they now knew they must avoid the deer herd. That very evening they entered the Park at a different point, intent on redressing the balance in their favour by the work of their pistols.
Relieved, as they thought, of the need to stay under cover at night, a lot of the animals, as well as Tawny Owl, were abroad at the time on their various errands. But, separated as they were, they all stopped in their tracks at the same instant as they heard once more the report of a gun.
Fox and Vixen were, as usual, together. ‘I don’t believe it,’ Vixen whispered. ‘They can’t have come back again.’
‘The noise came from that direction,’ Fox indicated. ‘We haven’t heard it from there before.’ He scowled. ‘The murdering scoundrels,’ he said thickly. ‘Come on, Vixen, we’d better get back.’
But Vixen did not move.
‘What’s the matter?’ Fox asked. ‘We can’t stay here.’
‘Perhaps it would be better not to go back,’ Vixen said cryptically.
Fox looked at her in astonishment.
‘Do you recall your latest plan?’ she reminded him.
‘The Warden’s garden?’ he asked. ‘But it’s not necessary, now he’s back. These men are his quarrel now.’
‘Exactly,’ replied his mate. ‘And we can lead him to them – or rather them to him.’
‘Phew!’ gasped Fox. ‘That’s a little ambitious – even for us.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she acknowledged. ‘But don’t we all want these men caught? Well, we could make that more likely.’
Fox, as so often, looked at her in sheer admiration. ‘You are a wonder,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we could do it. But we must be very, very careful.’
At the sound of the gun Tawny Owl had automatically played his part. He flew straight to where the shot had been fired to locate the danger. He saw the men and, this time, no victim. The shot had gone astray. Back in the direction of the home area he winged his way and, spying Fox and Vixen from the air, told them what he had found. Fox sent him to warn Badger, Weasel and any of the others around to exercise the utmost caution, and to tell them of Vixen’s suggestion. Silently Tawny Owl flew off.
‘I want to handle this myself,’ Fox said to her. ‘I don’t want you at risk too.’
‘I’ll stay well clear,’ she replied. ‘But I’ll be right behind you.’
Fox slunk off through the shadows to offer himself as bait to the poachers, while Vixen crept in his wake, twenty yards distant. The men were easily spotted, stirring up the dead undergrowth with sticks for any hapless creature cowering beneath. But Fox, safe behind a broad oak tree, yapped as he had yapped before in their hearing. The men looked up and saw a shadowy figure under the trees. At once they gave chase, both firing haphazardly. Fox, his body close to the ground, sped away through the copse towards the Warden’s Lodge. Behind the men ran Vixen, nervous, frightened, but with every nerve tingling.
Tawny Owl had rounded up Badger, Hare, Weasel and Rabbit. Then he went on to inform the Great Stag and the deer herd. Together all these animals began to converge from different directions on the focal point. No-one wanted to be left out of the adventure, and Rabbit had a particular wish to see himself avenged. The lights were on in the cottage, for the Warden also had heard the gunfire and was preparing to investigate. Badger even spotted Ginger Cat roaming outside the door. All seemed to be set for the finale.
Fox ran swiftly on a looping course for the cottage lights, making himself moderate his speed to keep the men within distance of him. As he neared his goal, he saw the Warden framed in the doorway and, to the left of the Lodge, the deer herd milling about in spectral array. Too late the poachers saw where they were running and stopped. As they tried to swing away to run from their fate, the deer herd rushed towards them, surrounding them, and buffeted them off their feet. The Warden raced over and shouted back towards his open door. While Fox and Vixen delightedly mingled with their watching friends a second man, whom Badger recognized as the animal doctor, ran out of the house. The poachers were collared and marched indoors. For a moment, in the doorway, the Warden turned back. He looked at the array of wild creatures strangely gathered together before his home. Each one of them looked towards him, and an expression, came over his face of a wonderful compassion and affection that lit an answering flame in their own hearts. The moment passed, but there was a timelessness about it that was never to be forgotten. When he had gone, the most complete and utter silence reigned.
Finally the Great Stag spoke, rather stumblingly and inadequately. He was greatly moved. ‘My friends, today we have formed a new bond of companionship,’ he said. ‘Today we are at one with Nature – er – and humanity.’
No-one else spoke or moved. The air above, the ground beneath were shot with magic; a strange echo of an Ancient World th
at none of them could comprehend had sounded in White Deer Park.
The spell was broken by the movement of Ginger Cat who walked nonchalantly over to Badger. He seemed quite undeterred by the memory of their fight.
‘We meet again,’ he purred enigmatically.
Badger nodded. ‘I hope in happier circumstances?’ he ventured.
‘Certainly,’ came the reply. ‘I’m quite aware I owe my life to your forbearance. Er – how is your friend the hawk?’
‘Perfectly well,’ answered Badger. ‘And yourself?’
‘Oh, couldn’t be better,’ the cat said. ‘But I must say I’m relieved to be back here. I was taken to a spot miles away and shut up with a lot of other cats in cages while my mast – ah, I mean the man, was treated for his illness.’
Badger smiled at the cat’s slip of the tongue, and Ginger Cat smiled back. He and Badger knew each other pretty well.
Fox and Vixen came over for a word, and the Great Stag led the deer herd away.
‘Well, you all look a lot happier since I saw you last,’ said Ginger Cat. ‘And I’m glad to see, Fox, you’ve put on a little weight.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Fox. ‘We’ve had some hard times, but we’ve come through all right.’
Badger recalled Toad’s last words before hibernation when he had wished they would all ‘come through’ the winter. How long ago that seemed. And now, with the temperature steadily rising, they could all look forward to their friend’s re-appearance. But, of course, they had not all ‘come through’. What changes Toad would see in their numbers.
‘You seem very pensive, Badger,’ remarked Ginger Cat. ‘What is it?’
‘Oh, nothing really,’ he said. ‘Just thinking of old friends.’
Weasel, Tawny Owl, Hare and Rabbit joined them.
‘Three times we’ve overcome those humans,’ Rabbit said proudly. ‘They must think the Park is jinxed.’
‘The ones we’ve just seen caught?’ Ginger Cat enquired. ‘What happened before? You must tell me your news.’
‘I will,’ Badger offered. ‘But another time, my feline friend. It’s been quite a night.’
Hare felt inclined to mention to his cousin Rabbit that he had not seen him much in evidence on the two previous occasions, but decided against it. It was not a time for needless criticism.
The animals and Tawny Owl bid Ginger Cat farewell and, together, wandered slowly away from the cottage. ‘I think we’re entitled to have that celebration now,’ Vixen said to her mate.
‘Yes, I think so too. Now, truly, our troubles are over.’
‘But our party is incomplete,’ said Badger. ‘It would be churlish to ignore the hedgehogs and, most of all, Toad.’
‘Pooh, there’s no knowing when they’ll be back with us,’ said Rabbit. ‘And in any case they’ve played no part in our adventures.’
Now Hare felt he must intervene. ‘I think some of us here present could hardly be said to have played much more of a part than they have,’ he said pointedly. The remark was not lost on any of the others, Rabbit included. He looked a little foolish.
‘Well, well, that’s as may be,’ said Badger, smoothing things over. ‘But I don’t think any of us need to have particular qualifications to enjoy ourselves together.’
‘Why don’t we make it a double celebration?’ suggested Vixen. ‘To mark our survival through our first winter and also to rejoice at seeing our hibernating friends again.’
‘I think that’s an excellent idea, Vixen,’ said Badger. ‘Don’t you, Fox?’
‘I do. Incidentally, does anyone realize we’ve none of us thought of Adder?’
‘Certainly a case of out of sight, out of mind,’ Tawny Owl remarked. ‘But then, he’s never the most genial of characters.’
‘Nevertheless, it would be unthinkable not to have him with us,’ Badger declared. ‘In his own way, he’s been a loyal enough friend.’
‘As I have cause to remember,’ murmured Vixen.
‘Then it’s postponed until the spring?’ Weasel summarized.
‘Perhaps not quite that long,’ said Fox. ‘The first really mild spell will bring the hedgehogs out. And probably Toad, too. I’m not exactly sure how long snakes need to sleep.’
As February progressed to its conclusion, the final traces of snow and ice disappeared completely from the Park. The long, hard winter, which had begun so early, released its grip at last. Everything pointed to the fact that a warm spring was approaching, perhaps sooner than usual. Mild breezes blew and, underfoot, the ground was soft and spongy with water where the snow had melted. Most days were blessed with sunshine, however, which prevented the Reserve from becoming too waterlogged.
Already the earliest buds were swelling when the hedgehogs climbed out of their beds of thick leaves and twigs. Their first thought was food, and insects, slugs and spiders were in such abundance because of the mild weather, that they could never have guessed that for months previously their friends had battled against starvation. The hedgehogs’ elected leader, having feasted grandly, went to look for signs of his old travelling companions.
As always, Kestrel was the first to spot this new movement on the ground. He dived downwards to intercept his recently emerged friend. ‘Hallo, Hedgehog! Hallo!’ he called as he hurtled down.
‘Kestrel! It’s good to see you!’ said Hedgehog enthusiastically. ‘How have you been?’
‘Better than most,’ Kestrel informed him. ‘How did you sleep?’
Hedgehog laughed. ‘Like a log – as always,’ he replied. ‘And the others? Have they fared well?’
‘Not all of them, I’m afraid. You have been well out of the troubles we’ve experienced since we last saw you.’
‘Dear, dear,’ said Hedgehog. ‘Has it been a bad winter, then?’
‘The worst any of us can remember,’ answered Kestrel. ‘And that includes Badger.’
‘But tell me,’ Hedgehog said, looking concerned, ‘have any lost their lives?’
‘Many,’ said the hawk simply. ‘The voles are reduced to a single pair – Vole himself and his mate – and the fieldmice only one better. The rabbits have suffered badly, too. And the squirrels have had their losses.’
‘This is shocking,’ responded Hedgehog. ‘I never expected anything like this. But Fox, Badger, Vixen …?’
‘The larger animals have all survived – but only just. I tell you, Hedgehog, you can’t conceive how near to death we all were. I think this winter has left its mark on everyone.’
‘Is little Mole then –?’
‘No, no. He’s all right. I think he suffered less than anyone. It appears his beloved worms are easier to find in cold weather – it restricts their movements.’
Hedgehog nodded. ‘And the other birds?’
‘Yes, Owl and Whistler have made it, too. But the winter hasn’t been the only thing we’ve had to contend with.’
‘Good gracious! What else?’
‘Well, come along. Come and see the others and you’ll hear all about it. I’ll meet you at Badger’s set.’
So Hedgehog made his way along and soon was surrounded by a number of the other animals. Together they told him of the harrowing events during the preceding months. At the end of it, he felt glad and relieved that some of his friends were there to greet him.
‘And I’ve slept through it all in blissful ignorance,’ he said wonderingly.
‘Best thing to have done,’ Hare told him. ‘You’ve had a happy release.’
With the re-appearance of the hedgehogs, the animals knew that their party, although reduced, would soon be together again. One particularly warm morning in early March they all decided to make the trip to the Pond, as Badger was quite convinced that Toad and Adder would be tempted by its pleasantness from their burrow.
As they approached the water, the scene of such a dramatic occurrence during the winter, there were already signs of activity. The Edible Frogs had woken and were splashing about furiously, or sitting by the water’s edge, croaking. A
nd nearby, on a sunny slope, basking delightedly in the warm rays of the sun, who should they find but Adder?
‘Mmmm,’ he murmured dreamily as he spied the company, ‘don’t talk to me. I’m not really awake yet.’
The animals laughed but ignored his request.
‘Certainly not alert,’ Fox corrected him, referring to his proximity to the frogs, ‘but definitely awake.’
‘Where’s Toad?’ Badger asked. ‘Did you leave him behind?’
‘Oh no,’ drawled Adder. ‘When I awoke the hole was quite empty. He must have decided to greet the sun before me.’
‘I wonder where he is,’ said Badger. ‘We couldn’t have missed him.’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the snake. ‘But please – leave me. Let me doze.’
‘Unsociable old so-and-so,’ muttered Tawny Owl. ‘We’ll get no sense out of him for the moment.’
Fox was looking for the patriarch of the Pond, the large frog that knew Toad best. Perhaps he could throw some light on Toad’s absence. He found him, newly glistening, surveying the scene from a piece of flat rock.
‘Oh yes, I saw him,’ he answered in reply to Fox’s question. ‘Two days ago. He was making off towards the Park boundary.’
‘What!?’
‘Yes – there, in that direction.’
The animals were stunned. What could he be up to?
‘Perhaps he’s lost his memory,’ piped up Mole. ‘During his long sleep, I mean,’ he added, thinking he may have sounded silly.
‘You all seem to have lost yours,’ rejoined Adder in his lazy lisp. ‘It’s obvious what’s happened. It’s Spring. Toad’s returning to his birthplace.’ His red eyes glinted in the sun as he looked at their astonished faces contemptuously. ‘He’s on his way back to Farthing Wood.’
The rest of the animals and the birds were dumbfounded. They looked at each other with blank faces. It was too incredible. Yet it had happened before. They all owed their knowledge of the Park’s existence to Toad, who had discovered it and travelled across country for the best part of a year to bring news of it to the beleaguered Farthing Wood. On that occasion, however, he had been returning to his old home – Farthing Pond – only to find it had disappeared; destroyed by humans.
