by Colin Dann
Adder saw him limp up to the stream’s side and gingerly lower himself down the bank into the water. Then, not without difficulty, the fox swam across. Adder watched him limp away with satisfaction. Now he had only to wait for Scarface to return. He noticed the spot on the bank where the animal had chosen to descend, which was less steep than most, and expected that Scarface would try to recross at that point. He slithered down the opposite bank and entered the water.
Adder was a good, but not enthusiastic swimmer. Usually he only swam at all when it was essential to do so. Now he was entering the water voluntarily. At first the current of the stream carried him along a distance, but Adder exerted his strength and, keeping close to the shore, undulated his way back to the crossing point. Then he found a strongly rooted patch of weed in midstream and wrapped his body securely round it, leaving only his head above the surface. In this way he passed the night.
He was very glad when dawn broke, for the water was cold. With daylight it began to warm up. Adder kept his unblinking eyes trained on the home bank, confident that he was all but invisible from the shore. At last, in the early morning light, he saw the awaited figure approaching.
There was a quite distinguishable expression of slyness and cruelty on the animal’s face as he looked this way and that around him. He sat down on the top of the bank and yawned, watching the water. For some minutes he sat quite still, his ears pricked for any slight sound. Then he looked across the stream, directly at Adder.
The snake shrank back into the obscuring ripples until only his nostrils were above water. Another few minutes passed. Nothing happened. Adder peeped above the surface again. Scarface was still sitting on the bank, but had his head turned, looking behind him. Adder knew then he had not been detected.
Scarface looked round again and stood up. Slowly, very slowly, he clambered down the bank. Adder tensed himself. The fox waded into the stream and began to paddle stiffly towards midstream. Adder waited, immobile. At the last moment he loosened his grip on the weed stem and, as Scarface came level, gathered his remaining strength and struck upwards. His fangs sank into the fox’s soft hind parts under his flank, releasing their full store of venom. Scarface yelped with pain and alarm, but Adder merely dropped back into the water and allowed himself to be taken downstream at the pace of the water. Scarface regained sufficient composure to struggle to the other bank and haul himself clear. By this time Adder was out of sight.
Already weakened by his recent fierce battle with Fox, Scarface lay shuddering on the shore, frightened and angry. The creatures from Farthing Wood had struck back at him again. Were they to be the undoing of him after all? It was some time before he could bring himself to give Adder due acknowledgement for his plan of revenge. It had been masterly and he admitted final defeat. He decided not to attempt to get back to his den. Soon he would die like the younger fox had done. He realized that he had been the real target of his enemies all along. ‘Well, at least I’ve taken some of them with me,’ he muttered to himself, chuckling in his throat. ‘They won’t forget me!’
Meanwhile Adder had pulled himself out of the water and was sluggishly making his way back to the scene of his triumph. He felt empty and weak – but victorious. By the time he came within range of Scarface, the poison had begun to take effect, eliminating him from any danger.
Scarface at once recognized the snake’s blunt tail. ‘So it was you,’ he whispered. ‘The Farthing Wood Adder?’
‘The same,’ Adder acknowledged wryly.
‘Well, you’ve achieved more than your brave leader could do,’ Scarface told him. ‘Perhaps you should change places?’ He gasped as the first tremors began to shake his body.
Adder watched him without emotion. ‘You’ve got no more than you deserved,’ was all he said.
‘Maybe,’ Scarface answered hoarsely. ‘That’s the way of things.’ He trembled more violently. ‘You’ve – killed – me,’ he panted, ‘but – remember . . .’ He drew a deep, racking breath. ‘I’m not – the end of – my line . . .’ His words were expelled painfully and harshly from his lips. They were his last.
Adder stayed no longer. The threat implied by Scarface went unheeded by the snake. He was quite satisfied with the end of Scarface. He swam back across the stream and at once set off on the long journey towards his old friends, to bring them the news. It proved to be as well that he did so.
On his way back through the Reserve he nearly wriggled directly under the massive hooves of the Great Stag.
‘Take care, my friend,’ cautioned the leader of the White Deer.
‘Some of us have our eyes rather closer to the ground,’ Adder answered irritably. ‘We can’t look up at the sky like you do.’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ said the Stag good humouredly. ‘You seem to be in something of a hurry?’
‘Perhaps I am,’ said Adder warily.
‘Well, I’m not prying,’ the Stag went on. ‘You have your own business to attend to.’
Adder could not resist a dry laugh. ‘I’ve just attended to it,’ he hissed sinisterly.
The Great Stag looked at him circumspectly, noticing his mutilated tail. ‘You’ve been in the wars, it seems,’ he remarked presently.
‘I have,’ said Adder. ‘But I survived.’
The barest emphasis in the way he answered was noticed by the deer immediately, who already had his suspicions. ‘Am I to surmise, then, that your adversary did not?’ he asked penetratingly.
Adder’s reply was merely a sardonic grin.
‘It comes into my mind that you may have saved me a journey,’ the Stag observed.
‘As I don’t know where your journey lies I’m afraid I can’t enlighten you,’ answered Adder.
‘Shall we stop hedging, my friend?’ suggested the Stag. ‘I was on my way to visit the scarfaced fox.’
‘Were you indeed?’ drawled the snake. ‘Then I can tell you that you will find him quite close by.’
The Great Stag sighed. ‘Your caution does you credit,’ he said, ‘but I beg you to answer a civil question. Is there any point in my continuing on my journey?’
‘Er – no,’ said Adder.
‘Thank you. Now I understand the situation. But you may be concerned to hear that some of your travelling companions were killed last night by the – er – animal under discussion.’
‘That news serves only to increase my gratification at what I have just done,’ said Adder. ‘But who of my friends were killed?’
The Stag told him.
‘I see,’ said the snake, relieved, despite his recent accusations, that Fox was not among them.
‘I hope the Park will now return to its former state of quietude,’ said the Great Stag.
‘Likewise,’ answered Adder. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some news to convey.’
‘Of course.’ The Stag stood aside and watched Adder continue on his way. He shrugged to himself. ‘Well,’ he mused, ‘it seems that actions speak louder than words.’ He stood for some time looking into the distance. Then he turned and started to walk majestically back in the direction of his herd.
It was not until quite late in the day that the stiff, prone body of Scarface was discovered. His mate, who had wisely never interfered in his schemes, at last decided his absence from the earth was unusually long. She looked for him in every likely spot and, finally, accompanied by Ranger and one of her adult offspring, went to the stream.
It was Ranger who recognized the cause of Scarface’s death. After consoling his mother as best he could, he spoke to his elder brother. ‘This is the work of snakebite, Blaze,’ he said to him. ‘The appearance of our father is very similar to that of our cousin who was also killed in this way. It’s almost certainly by the same snake.’
‘You’re very probably right,’ agreed Blaze. ‘Our father might have been hunting him.’
‘I’m sure he was,’ said Ranger. ‘Some time ago I saw a snake in this area and I told Father where to find him. I thought he had been exterm
inated.’
‘You should have killed the creature yourself,’ said Blaze.
Ranger nodded. ‘Now I wish I had,’ he answered. He had no idea Adder was in any way connected with Charmer’s parents or their friends. ‘But Scarface was a jealous parent,’ he went on. ‘He would only have reproached me for doing his job.’
‘That’s how he was,’ Blaze agreed. ‘But what now? Any of us might meet the same fate!’
‘Then we must eliminate the chance of it,’ Ranger asserted. ‘I’ll comb this area for the culprit, if you go back and round up as many of the others you can. Then together, we must uncover him.’
Blaze led his mother back to her den. She was too stunned to participate in any hunt. Then he returned to the scene of the killing with eight more of his tribe.
‘Not a trace of him so far,’ Ranger announced. ‘We must work quickly before darkness falls.’
But, though they searched high and low, there was no sign of Adder for, of course, he had left the area hours ago. As dusk began to steal over the Park, Ranger and Blaze called the search off. ‘We can continue tomorrow,’ said Ranger, who was already thinking of his meeting with Charmer. ‘We’ll have the whole day ahead of us, and we’re sure to catch him in the end.’
The foxes disbanded and Ranger made his way to the usual meeting place. He felt no sorrow for his father’s death, for there had been no particular bond between them. But for his bereaved mother’s sake, he was determined to avenge his killing.
Charmer arrived at the spot, uncertain how to conduct herself. To her parents and all the Farthing Wood creatures, Adder was a hero. Even more so as he had narrowly escaped death himself from the very jaws of their mutual enemy. But she was well aware that the dead fox had sired Ranger and had, therefore, a claim on his feelings.
Ranger greeted her in his normal manner, noticing, however, her reticence. ‘I suppose you have heard of my father’s death?’ he surmised.
Charmer nodded silently.
‘Well, I realize you have no reason to grieve,’ he said. ‘I’ve no illusions about your sentiments on the matter – or of your friends. Scarface made himself your enemy.’
‘I’m only regretful on your behalf,’ she said to him. ‘As for us – well, there’s a general feeling of relief that what had been an abiding threat has now disappeared.’
‘You’re very honest,’ Ranger answered, ‘and I’m glad you are so. My only concern is that my father died the way he did.’
Charmer looked down uncomfortably.
‘I shall, of course, put that right,’ Ranger remarked.
Charmer looked at him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’ she faltered.
‘We have to rid ourselves of that snake,’ he explained. ‘We can’t allow him to pick us off one by one.’
‘But the first death was an accident!’ she protested.
Ranger glanced at her curiously. ‘How would you know that?’ he inquired.
‘Adder killed the wrong fox,’ she answered. ‘It should have been – ’ She broke off, aware of her indiscretion.
‘My father!’ exclaimed Ranger. ‘Now I comprehend. So this was all arranged. You know this snake!’
‘Of course!’ she replied hopelessly. ‘He travelled with my father from Farthing Wood.’
‘And now he’s disposed of two of my family,’ Ranger said in a cold voice.
‘Just as Scarface disposed of one of mine,’ she reminded him. ‘And several of our friends.’
‘Several?’ he queried.
Charmer told him of the recent killings of the fieldmice, the voles and the rabbits.
Ranger fell silent. Then he said quietly: ‘That, of course, I didn’t know. There’s fault on both sides.’
‘You mustn’t feel vindictive towards Adder,’ said Charmer. ‘He was fortunate not to have been killed by Scarface earlier. As it is, your father has marked him for ever.’
‘An adder is a strange creature to make a friend of,’ Ranger observed.
‘There are reasons,’ replied Charmer. ‘My parents owe him a great deal. He once saved Vixen’s life.’
Ranger nodded. ‘Then I understand the bond,’ he admitted. ‘And I am aware that your father could have killed mine had he chosen to do so.’
For a long time the two cubs looked at each other. They seemed to have reached a point of crisis in their relationship. Then Charmer broke away, sobbing. ‘If only none of these awful things had happened,’ she moaned. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that we should remain unaffected by it!’
Ranger moved to comfort her, nuzzling her repeatedly and licking her fur. ‘Wounds do heal,’ he said bravely. ‘In time all will be forgotten. We should think of the future.’
Charmer looked at him hopefully. ‘Are you prepared to forgive?’ she whispered.
‘Of course,’ he replied. Then he recalled the snake hunt arranged for the next day. ‘Where is this Adder now?’ he asked.
Charmer hesitated. ‘I’m not sure,’ she answered defensively.
Ranger looked at her piercingly. ‘You needn’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘I won’t try to search him out. I’ll tell the others I got rid of him myself. They don’t know one snake from another.’
She smiled with relief. ‘He’s somewhere in the company of Toad,’ she said confidingly.
‘Well, let’s forget him,’ said Ranger. ‘And all the others. Let’s make our own plans.’
‘Yes,’ said Charmer. ‘We’re of an age to act independently. Bold and Friendly have already left the family home. Once they heard – you know . . .’
Ranger nodded. ‘Will they look for mates now?’ he asked playfully.
‘I suppose so,’ she answered. ‘At least, I think Friendly will. As for Bold . . . I can’t say.’
‘Do you wish us to stay in the Park?’ Ranger asked presently.
‘I would prefer to,’ said Charmer. ‘I don’t know the world outside.’
‘No,’ said Ranger. ‘Nor I.’
‘From my father’s stories it sounds a hazardous place,’ she went on. ‘You really do have to live by your wits there. Survival is everything.’
‘I imagine the only thing to be said in compensation is that there are no boundaries to your freedom,’ he said.
‘Except human ones,’ Charmer said pointedly.
‘Exactly. Well, home is where the heart is. And as long as you are in White Deer Park,’ he said gallantly, ‘that’s where my heart will be.’
‘Oh – oh!’ she chuckled. ‘Now who’s the charmer?’
Ranger grinned. ‘You make me so,’ he told her. ‘Now, where do you think we should have our den?’
The animals’ reaction to Adder’s news overwhelmed him. Already exhausted by his aquatic exercise and then his long crawl across the Park, the snake lapsed into speechlessness at his friends’ wild congratulations. For a long time he was unable even to explain the reason for his blunt tail. When he was eventually able to do so, their excitement was only heightened and, despite their recent losses, Rabbit and Squirrel joined in the mutual fervour. Vole alone was unmoved.
When the exhilaration had subsided somewhat he said: ‘This news has come too late for my relief. If Scarface had been killed a day earlier I should have been the first to rejoice. However, I’m glad for others’ sakes.’
‘You must find yourself a new mate, Vole,’ Hare told him. ‘It’s the surest way to ease one’s grief.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Vole, ‘and from your words, I guess you are already making moves in that direction. But for poor Fieldmouse even that consolation is denied.’
There was no comment that could be made on this statement and all of the creatures present felt the poignancy of it.
‘Let’s be thankful, anyway,’ said Vixen quietly, ‘that so many of us have survived. Now we can look forward to more peaceful times.’
‘This will mean more independence for us all as well,’ said Fox. ‘The whole of the Reserve is ours again, to roam in at our leisure. We shall all be as fre
e as the birds of the air.’
Kestrel and Whistler laughed, while Tawny Owl pretended to ignore the remark. For him, it smacked of a certain sarcasm.
‘Don’t look so straightfaced, Owl,’ Kestrel teased him. ‘We don’t mind a little joke at our expense, do we? Fox knows we’ve all pulled our weight in this recent sinister business.’
‘Humph!’ mumbled Tawny Owl. ‘I long ago told that Scarface what I thought of him.’
‘Of course you did, of course you did, and we appreciate it,’ said Weasel with mock solemnity.
Mole tittered while Tawny Owl struggled to retain his dignity. Vixen quickly changed the subject. ‘Well, who is going to act on my earlier suggestion?’ she challenged. ‘The need to integrate ourselves with the natives of the place is now our prime task.’ She looked round at the assembled group. ‘I’m sure you’re all very eligible,’ she laughed. ‘Who’ll be the first?’
‘It appears that Hare is likely to be,’ remarked Whistler. ‘But what of all you youngsters: Bold, Friendly and – you, Mole.’
‘Me?’ cried Mole nervously. ‘Oh dear, I hadn’t really thought about it – mating, I mean . . .’ He lapsed into a tongue-tied embarrassment.
‘High time you did, then,’ Whistler admonished him with jocular gravity. ‘But, let me see – Vixen, we seemed to be surrounded by bachelors!’
‘A bachelor I am, and a bachelor I shall always be, I fear,’ sighed Badger. ‘Who’d want an old fogey like me? My mating days passed in solitude in Farthing Wood. I was the remnant of the badger population there and – ’
‘Yes, yes,’ cut in Fox, before he started rambling on. ‘Don’t let’s talk of the past. And, anyway, Toad found himself a mate in the delightful form of that plump young Paddock, and he’s no juvenile.’