“And you’re a stupid rabbit. Don’t you get it. I’m not the one who’s about to maul you. The dogs are. They’ll maul you and me both.”
Rabbit slowly turned around and came face to face with Polkan and Muxtar. They were breathing heavily, their tongues hanging out, their snouts pointed straight at him. Behind them was a whole pack of hunting hounds.
“If you want, we can hug,” suggested Fox. “We aren’t strangers, after all. They say if someone is hugging you, it’s not as scary to die.”
“Yes, let’s hug, Fox,” whispered Rabbit barely audibly.
They hugged.
“Killer Fox! You’ve hidden here in hopes of escaping the law. But you can’t hide from us any longer! We’re going to maul you and your friend Rabbit,” Muxtar announced triumphantly. “Would you like to clear your dying conscience and admit to murdering the chicken?”
“I’m not a killer,” sobbed Fox. “I only hid here because no one would’ve believed me! But I didn’t do it! I didn’t murder the chicken!”
“It’s true. She didn’t,” came Chief Badger’s voice. “But I know who did.”
CHAPTER 11: IN WHICH YOU CAN'T TRUST A SOUL
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in—suicidal woodland heroes!” snarled Muxtar looking over Chief Badger as well as Badgercat, Vulture, Starling, and the veteran Ferret who’d all arrived on his heels. “I like it when game delivers itself to the hunters. What were you mumbling about the murder?”
“I know who killed your chicken,” said Badger.
“So do we. Fox,” Muxtar chomped the air. “All right, Polkan,” he added, turning toward him, “let’s get to mauling.”
“No, it wasn’t Fox,” said Badger calmly.
“Yes, let’s go,” said Polkan, nodding, and the pack of dogs collectively wrinkled their noses and began growling.
“It was a dog! A dog killed the chicken!” Badger yelled over the growling. “It was one of you! Stop the Hunt! Listen to me! I demand a cease fire!”
The growling escalated.
“You’re all cowards!” Badgercat scanned the hunting hounds. “It looks like you dogs are more cowardly than our Rabbit. He wasn’t scared of risking his own life to save his woods. But you’re afraid of hearing the truth! Afraid to find out which dog is a liar!”
“There aren’t any cowards in our pack,” said Polkan proudly. “Or liars. We’ll listen to the Police Badger. Then we’ll resume the Hunt.”
“Thank you, Polkan,” nodded Chief Badger.
“Polkan is a noble hound,” exhaled Fox. “I always knew that about him. Polkan respects woodland animals…”
“Enough with the flattery, Fox,” frowned Polkan. “We’re listening, Police Badger.”
“Better yet, listen to him,” said Chief Badger pointing to Starling. “This is a recording of an eye witness’s testimony.”
“I haven’t been sleeping well, darling,” said Starling in Pence’s voice. “I keep thinking about your extra weight and the apple-nut-honey stuffing…”
“What kind of buffoonery is this?” barked Muxtar.
“…So, yes, I saw something. Something very strange. The chicken wasn’t killed by a fox. It was killed by a dog wearing a fox mask. I definitely saw that it was a dog, but I couldn’t make out the breed in the dark. Darling, I think it was Muxtar…”
“What? This is absurrrrd,” howled Muxtar. “Don’t believe him! Don’t listen to him!”
A nervous growling spread through the pack. Polkan authoritatively raised his paw, ordering the dogs to quiet down.
“Continue, bird,” said Polkan. “This is getting interesting.”
“…I think it bothered him that the chickens had started to rebel, chanting ‘stop the soup,’” continued Starling in Pence’s voice. “I assume he killed the chicken to put an end to their uprising. But he pretended to be a fox so that Nina Palna wouldn’t punish him…”
“He’s lying!” Muxtar bared his teeth. “These are just the words of some dirrrrty swine! Repeated by some dirrrrty bird! This isn’t prrrroof! I swearrrrr—”
Chief Badger looked at Muxtar, then focused on Polkan.
“Continue,” said Polkan dryly.
“This theory is also corroborated by the chicken’s testimony,” said Chief Badger.
“Fox’s face is motionless,” said Starling in Chicken Four’s voice. “Fox’s grimace is terrifying! Fox’s face is absolutely motionless! The stone face of a murderer…”
“If you take a look at our Fox,” Chief Badger indicated toward Fox, who was still hugging Rabbit, “you’ll see that her face is lively and animated. And that she is hardly capable of arousing such panicked fear in a victim. Look, even rabbits aren’t afraid of her. Decide for yourselves.”
The dogs in the pack cocked their heads to one side in unison, examining Fox and trying to decide for themselves.
“Hearrrrsay!” roared Muxtar. “You can’t rely on the testimony of a stupid chicken!”
“But, most important, we have proof. Physical evidence,” said Badger, showing the pack of dogs the fox mask. “Look. The motionless face of a fox with a terrifying grimace.”
“That’s not mine!” whined Muxtar. “That’s not my mask. This is the first time I’m seeing it!”
“Stop it, Muxtar,” said Polkan bitterly. “Stop lying to us. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You killed one of our own, a farm chicken! And then had the nerve to give us all the runaround and blame innocent woodland animals of your crime.”
“But…I didn’t kill…”
“Something else that’s of interest to me, are the bite marks on the victim’s body,” continued Badger.
“You can stop,” Polkan waved him off. “There’s already enough proof of Muxtar’s guilt.”
“If I may, I’d like to disagree,” said Badger politely. “There isn’t enough proof of his guilt. I actually don’t think it was Muxtar who killed the chicken.”
The dogs in the pack cocked their heads to one side in unison.
“What are you saying, Chief?” asked Badgercat, stunned.
“But…you said from the beginning that…,” mumbled Polkan.
“I said that a dog did it.”
“But the witness Pence…”
“Pence saw a dog but admitted that he couldn’t make him out in the dark. Isn’t that so? And he only speculated that it had been Muxtar.”
“Exactly,” yapped Muxtar, full of hope.
“Then who, in your opinion, killed the chicken?” asked Polkan.
“You,” said Badger.
The dogs in the pack turned to stare at Polkan.
“With all due respect,” said Badgercat quietly, “Chief Badger, what in the world are you talking about?”
“Yes, what in the world?” asked Polkan.
“Polkan isn’t a criminal!” protested Fox. “Polkan is a kind, sympathetic dog. Unlike that one over there…” She gave Muxtar the side eye.
“So you think he’s sympathetic and kind?” asked Chief Badger suddenly interested.
“Yes,” said Fox.
“And how has Polkan been kind and sympathetic toward you?”
“He tried to help me. He understood my plight as a predator. He was very encouraging.”
“Interesting,” Chief Badger narrowed his eyes. “And how did he help and encourage you?”
“He…Polkan…” Fox hesitated. “Sometimes I’d come to roam around the coop, just to get a whiff of the chickens…since, according to the laws of the Far Woods, predators like myself must be vegetarians…but I just wanted to get a smell. So, anyway, Polkan would sometimes come out and we’d chat. He said he understood me and my predatory nature…that defying nature wasn’t truly possible…that a predator would always be just that…that killing just one chicken wouldn’t be a big deal…that chickens are brainless and stupid…and that they’re eventually made into soup anyway…”
“Am I understanding correctly, Fox, that Polkan encouraged you to kill a farm chicken?” asked
Chief Badger.
“No, no, it wasn’t like that…though, maybe…” Fox faltered, wrapping herself up in her tail. “Hmm, it’s as if he really did…did encourage me…”
“But why?” asked Rabbit.
“It’s very simple actually,” said Badger. “Polkan had grown old. He’d lost his famous Jaws of Death. His owner, Nina Palna, had even found his replacement—a purebred hunting puppy named…What’s his name?”
“Count,” said Starling.
“Yes, a puppy named Count. But Polkan couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he’d been benched. He was sure that he was as strong as ever and longed to prove it to Nina Palna and win back her trust and affection. All he had to do was come up with a reason to have a Hunt. At first, Polkan just expected to goad Fox into committing the crime. To some degree his plan had worked—Fox really did attack the chicken. However, the chicken survived and even returned to the coop. So Polkan decided to stage another fox attack. He put on a fox mask and attacked the chicken himself.”
“But…the coop’s rebellion…Muxtar’s brutal suppression of the uprising,” Badgercat mumbled helplessly.
“Yes, Polkan chose the opportune time for his attack—during the uprising. He knew that if, somehow, a dog would be suspected of the crime, the suspicion would fall on the guard dog Muxtar—which is exactly what happened.”
“Exactly!” barked Muxtar.
“You don’t have any proof,” said Polkan quietly. “I’ve always been on the side of peace and fairness. While Muxtar was always ferocious and hotheaded. Muxtar is the murderer.”
“How dare you?” growled Muxtar. “Frrrriends—do you believe him?”
The dogs cocked their heads to one side in unison.
“This isn’t a question of believing. There needs to be indisputable proof,” said Badger wearily. “We must conduct a thorough investigation—in this case, compare bite marks. So, what do we have?” He turned to the pack of dogs, who cocked their heads in unison to the other side. “Due to Muxtar’s recent attack of Assistant Chief Badger of the Far Woods Police, we have his bite marks on Assistant Chief Badger’s neck. Show them the bite marks, Badgercat!”
“You see,” interjected Polkan. “Muxtar has always been overly aggressive. Of course he’s the murderer. And keep in mind, I was the one who played peacekeeper in the conflict between Muxtar and Gophercat…”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Badger dryly. “So we have Muxtar’s bite marks on Badgercat’s neck. Similarly, we have Polkan’s bite marks on the body of the veteran Ferret.”
“Polkan’s famous Jaws of Death,” the limping Ferret demonstrated his crippled hind leg. “It still aches when the weather changes—”
“Please note that Polkan’s bite marks are quite distinctive: his top right fang is slightly chipped, making it all the more sharp, like a sharpened spear—”
“Oh yes, like a spear!” said Ferret. “I remember that great, that terrible Hunt—”
“So all that’s left to do,” interrupted Chief Badger, “is to compare Polkan’s bite marks on Ferret’s body and Muxtar’s bite marks on Badgercat’s body to the bite marks on the deceased chicken’s body, and we’ll know who was the murderer. We have footage from a security camera and our crime scene investigator Vulture has thoroughly examined the bite marks on the body of the victim.”
“Unfortunately, due to the poor quality of the image, I cannot say for certain who the bite marks belong to,” said Vulture. “The marks are very hard to see. But once zoomed in, it seems that they have the distinctive mark of a chipped fang… However, I hesitate to say so for sure.”
“Slander and speculation,” snarled Polkan.
“Vulture’s analysis, as well as my own badger logic, lead me to believe that Polkan is the murderer,” said Chief Badger. “However, Polkan is right. We do not have definitive proof of his guilt.”
“Exactly,” said Polkan.
“However, Vulture is willing to perform a closer examination of the victim’s body. To do so, we’ll need to go to Huntington Farm,” said Badger, looking at the pack of dogs. “Please grant us permission to examine the bite marks on the body of the deceased chicken in order to establish the identity of the murderer.”
“I won’t grant you anything,” growled Polkan.
“And I will,” growled Muxtar in response.
“I’m the alpha dog of the hunting pack,” said Polkan menacingly.
“And I’m the head guard dog. I’m about to issue entrance permits to Huntington Farm for the chief Badger, the kittyhamster, and the instigator Vulture.”
“And I’m about to order the pack to maul them along with their entrance permits!”
“And you’re confident they’ll follow the orders of a criminal? Frrrriends,” Muxtar turned to the pack, “are you going to follow the orders of a crrrrimnal?”
The dogs cocked their heads, thinking it over.
“We Englishmen don’t follow criminal orders,” said the English setter.
“We Russians don’t either,” said the Russian wolfhound and Russian spaniel.
“The pack believes in justice,” barked the dogs in unison. “We grrrrant permission to enter Huntington Farm.”
“Excellent,” said Chief Badger, pleased. “But we’ll need an extra entrance permit,” he said, turning to Muxtar.
“No problem. For whom?”
“For Wolf.”
“For Wolf?” Muxtar tensed up. “Why?”
“For peace keeping purposes. Our Wolf is a famous peacekeeper. There’s even stories written about him.”
“All right…,” said Muxtar hesitantly. “I’ve been known to enjoy a story or two…”
CHAPTER 12: IN WHICH DREAMS COME TRUE
“And so the bite marks on the victim’s body are undeniably Polkan’s,” said Vulture after completing his examination. “Take a look—the distinctive mark of a spear-like broken fang.”
“Poor Chicken Five,” said Badgercat. “What an undeserved death!”
“Kill chickens!” Brewster was distraught. “Everyone kills chickens! And now there’s a wolf in the coop!”
“Me? Never!” Wolf was offended. “I’m a famous peacekeeper! I’ve never killed a soul.”
“We are all very sorry for your loss,” said Chief Badger. “And our Wolf really is harmless. Unlike your Polkan—whom I hope will be punished to the full extent of the… Where is he anyway?”
Muxtar looked around, alarmed. Then jogged around the coop.
“He ran off, that dog!” Muxtar flattened his ears against his head in shame. “How’d I let him go? We’ve got to send out a search—”
“Chicken slaughter!” came a sudden shrill cry from the direction of the pigsty. “Chicken slaughter! And pig! And mini pig!”
“Chicken Four,” whispered Badgercat. “I recognize her voice.”
Coming from behind the pigsty fence they could hear the piercing squealing of swine, a chicken’s clucking, and Nina Palna’s hysterical yelps of “I’ll slaughter you!”, followed by “Chicken slaughter!” and “Stop the soup!” from Chicken Four. A few seconds later they all saw the mini pig Pence bounding across the yard, with Chicken Four upon his back, her wings spread majestically. Behind him, wheezing heavily, trotted his wife, Petunia. And on their heels was a beet-red Nina Palna brandishing a cleaver.
“O’er mountains and meadows may we chickens keep soaring!” sang Chicken Four, spurring on Pence. “As we vanquish our foes, all hail the coop, we’ll keep crowing!”
“I’ll slaughter yoooouuu!” cried Nina Palna.
“Okay,” said Badger, “we’ve come right in time. Quick. Start the chant I taught you,” he said, turning to Wolf.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff,” howled Wolf.
Nina Palna froze, dropping her cleaver.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff.”
Nina Palna’s eyes grew wide, and the color drained from her face.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down!
”
“Wolf!” screamed Nina Palna. “Help! He’ll blow my house down! He’ll eat me!”
“I can help you,” Chief Badger offered gallantly. “I can protect you from the wolf.”
“Yes! Please help me!”
“But only under one condition. You must read and acknowledge this open letter from the residents of the Far Woods.” Chief Badger handed her the letter. “They’d like to make you an offer you won’t want to refuse.”
Nina Palna took the letter with a trembling hand and began reading.
We, the free and wild animals of the Far Woods, would like to propose that you become a vegetarian and completely give up the slaughter and consumption of chickens, pigs, cows, goats, and all other farm animals. In return, we can offer you complete protection and will guarantee that the big bad wolf will, under no circumstances, blow your house down or eat you. In addition, we agree to grant you, and only you, full access to the best mushroom picking spots in the Far Woods, where no human has ever stepped foot. Every summer, we agree to alert you to the location of these spots…
“Oh my!” Nina Palna scanned the animals and winced at the sight of Wolf. “What a wonderful offer! Of course I agree to it. I’ve dreamed of this my whole life.”
“Hail to the coop!” crowed Brewster, and all the chickens joined in. “Hail to the roosters! Hail to the eggs and the hens!”
“Hail to the Far Woods!” exclaimed Chicken Four. “Hail to the police badgers!”
“Hail to the badgers!” yelled the chickens, pigs, and dogs.
“Hail to the police badgers, of course,” sounded Doc Hawk’s surly voice. “But doctors shouldn’t be forgotten about either. The situation was quite hopeless! I had to perform beak to muzzle resuscitation…”
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” Muxtar wrinkled his nose. “Polkan!”
It was true: Polkan was trudging along the yard, staggering, his head bowed. The gray fur on his chest was matted and the three gold medals—for courageous hunting, committed hunting, and callous hunting—dragged on the ground. Doc Hawk fluttered above him, holding Polkan up by his scruff with his beak from time to time so that the dog wouldn’t topple over.
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