by Colin Dann
‘Toad’s right,’ said Weasel. ‘We’ll have to deal with this menace ourselves.’
‘There’s only one way to do that,’ Fox said grimly. ‘Kill them. Kill them whenever we see them and wherever we can. We shouldn’t underestimate the danger, my friends. If disease enters the Park every creature, from the tiniest mouse to the largest stag in the deer herd, is in peril. We need to harness the help of every predator and every large animal in the Reserve. This could be the gravest situation White Deer Park has ever faced.’
Fox’s warning, deliberately calculated, had shaken the Farthing Wood community. The elders had collected merely to discuss Dash and Plucky but had discovered once more that they needed to band together to fight for not only their homes, but their very existence. Toad was satisfied he had done his duty. He was in no position to fight anything and neither was Mossy. Fighting and slaying was a matter for animals bigger than they. Their only task now was to keep on the look-out and to report any sightings in good time to the others.
So far the influx of rats was moderate. Fox, however, deemed there was no time to be lost in gathering support from the other animals in the Reserve for his campaign of annihilation. Around White Deer Park the word was passed to other foxes, badgers, stoats and weasels. Hedgehogs and squirrels were required to play their part. Hawks and hunting birds of all sizes were tipped off by Whistler. Even the deer were brought in. Their size and weight, if nothing else, made them suitable allies in the campaign. So the Park inhabitants were primed to take action. All were ready and, for a while, the threat seemed to recede. Then, during a spell of very rainy weather, rats began to be spotted everywhere. They came over the fences, they dug under the fences. Their homes outside the Park were flooded in the downpours and they were looking for new, more secure sites. The attraction of the Reserve, where the enemy Man was scarcely in evidence, was like a magnet to the hungry, dispossessed rats. More and more came to join their fellows – big brown rats with long skinny tails, fast, purposeful, skilful and highly intelligent. The residents of the Park observed the nocturnal incursions and realized that all of them truly had a battle to face.
4
Dash’s Return
Weasel was the next animal to disappear. His friends, intent on their efforts to keep the rats at bay, didn’t notice his absence for a while. Eventually, as they met together in little groups, they observed Weasel was never among them. The realization that he had gone missing came as a severe blow. Weasel was one of the stalwarts of the original group of animals from Farthing Wood. He had played a part in every adventure that had befallen them. Along with Fox and Vixen, Badger, Tawny Owl, Adder and Toad, he had formed the core of the Farthing Wood community. The others felt his loss in a way that was matched only by Tawny Owl’s flight from the Reserve the previous season when the bird had gone to seek a mate. But Owl had come back. None of them felt confident about Weasel’s return. He had suffered the same fate as Plucky and Dash, whatever that fate was. And now the rest of them began to wonder which of their number would go next.
‘You should stay near your homes,’ Badger advised them, ‘like I do. No strange fate can overtake those who don’t wander.’
‘You stay put because you have to,’ said Owl. ‘Your extreme age makes it so.’
‘You’re no fledgling yourself,’ Badger reminded him.
‘You sound just like Holly,’ was the bird’s revealing reply. ‘I mean,’ he hastily added, ‘she doesn’t like me to overexert myself.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m hinting at,’ Badger affirmed. ‘Stay close to your roost. Let the younger ones take their turn.’
‘You have a point, Badger,’ Tawny Owl had the grace to admit. ‘Weasel always had a habit of darting about, first here, then there, hardly able to keep still. Maybe he’s paying the price now for being too active, poor creature.’
Adder couldn’t restrain his usually sardonic temperament. ‘I’m sure you miss him greatly,’ he said with a leer.
Dash had come to no harm out on the downland. She had made her form in the new grasses and, flattening herself into its depression, had been all but invisible to prying human eyes. In the evenings she continued her search for Plucky, and her ramblings – or rather, in her case, racings – went on far into the night. She saw neither hide nor hair of him. At length she was forced to give up. She didn’t care for the proximity of humans and, separated from the comfort of her friends, she felt her isolation. She wanted to be back in the Park.
Early one morning she ran back to the scrape under the boundary fence. This spot had been well used since Dash had first left the Park. She noticed there was a trampled look to the soil surface here but, since she was unaware of the invading rats, she had no explanation for it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled herself into the Reserve but she was conscious of her failure in the task she had set herself. She hardly dared hope that Plucky would have returned to his old haunts in the meantime. She longed for news of him and headed directly for Fox and Vixen’s earth.
The hare hadn’t travelled far into the Park when she noticed a small group of men in her path. Something about the attitude of these humans alarmed her. She veered and doubled back, then set off again on a different route. Normally she would have avoided them altogether but this time she felt compelled to return, approaching the men from behind. She was curious to discover why they were strung out at intervals in a line as though intent on barring the progress of any creature in the vicinity. She was very cautious. She hid herself behind a clump of purple honesty. She sniffed the air. She could detect the smell of other animals, although she could see none. She could hear animal noises – muffled but distinctly nervous and frightened cries. Where were these creatures? She looked about her. A motor vehicle belonging to the men stood at some distance, parked on a flat piece of ground. Dash’s huge ears picked up the sounds from that quarter. She flicked her ears anxiously. The animals were inside the van! What was happening? She dared not move but she could see the van was open at the back. Inside there was an assortment of containers – boxes, crates and the like, with wire-mesh sides. From where she sat, quivering with agitation, these containers looked to Dash to be harmless examples of the kind of objects that humans always seemed to carry around with them. She didn’t understand what they were. But she did understand the animal cries – cries of fear and helplessness. Then she noticed a little ripple of movement inside one of the boxes – just a flash, but unmistakable. Then in another . . . and another . . . and she knew then beyond any doubt that there were animals trapped inside them. Trapped by these very humans who were now poised ready to catch others as they ran across their path.
Dash backed away and turned to make her escape. But before she could do so she saw another creature captured. And she also saw the cunning of the humans at work. She hadn’t noticed – just as none of the captured animals had noticed – that in front of the line of men was a net, camouflaged and coloured to confuse unsuspecting wildlife, and half obscured by shrubs and bushes. Now other humans hidden elsewhere began to shout and make a noise. An animal was driven from cover – this time a rabbit. Frightened and panicking, it blundered unwittingly into the folds of the net, entangling itself instantly. Before it could get free one of the men pounced and held it fast. Another came with a sack, into which the animal was stowed before being transferred to one of the containers inside the van. Dash saw a second rabbit taken and then a smaller animal, which could have been a squirrel but whose capture was so swift it was impossible for her to be sure of its identity.
She had seen enough. She was horrified by the scene. How many poor beasts had lost their liberty this way? And were there bands of humans all over the Park doing the same thing? The loss of Plucky could at last, perhaps, be explained. Groups of men had been around the Reserve for a long time. The group she had witnessed was operating in the daytime, but there could equally well be others working by night, when those animals with nocturnal habits could be rounded up: animals like bad
gers, hedgehogs, stoats, weasels . . . and foxes. Dash pelted full speed across the Park to the Farthing Wood animals’ corner. She had to warn them to beware and now she feared to discover what other losses had taken place in her absence. Her mind was in a whirl. Animals had always been safe from human interference in White Deer Park. What was going on? How could this be happening under the nose of the Warden? Their Warden, the animals’ Warden, whom all creatures trusted? How could these events occur without his knowledge? Was he somehow involved in them?
Dash burst into Fox and Badger’s little wood. It was broad daylight so none of the foxes was about. Badger snored comfortably in his set, having dined richly on earthworms and beetle grubs. Dash heard the reverberations with frustration. Was there no-one around she could tell her news to? She thought about Plucky – removed from the Park, then taken to a strange place . . . and for what? She dared not think about that. She shuddered. Who knew what had happened to him by now? Oh, it was unbearable to think she would never see him and frolic with him again. She needed to unburden herself. She began to call, in the first place for Vixen.
After a while Vixen appeared at her earth’s entrance, blinking sleepily. ‘What – what is it? Who called me?’
‘I did,’ Dash said. ‘Vixen, I have to – ’
‘It’s you!’ Vixen cried. ‘We’d given you up. Where have you been? We thought you were lost, like the others.’
Dash gasped. Were there more gone? ‘The – others?’
‘Plucky and Weasel.’
‘Is my father – ’
‘He’s safe. So far. Now tell me, Dash, what you’ve found out.’
The young hare panted out all she knew. She explained hurriedly about her stay on the open downland and what she had almost stumbled into on her return. ‘It’s the men, Vixen! The men are taking the animals!’
Vixen was shocked. She didn’t understand how such a situation could have arisen in a protected nature reserve. ‘I’ll speak to Fox,’ she whispered.
Fox’s sleep was interrupted. He emerged promptly from the den and gave himself a good shake. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Tell me everything, Dash. Vixen’s confused.’
Dash went over her story again, describing as clearly as she could what she had seen.
‘The animals are being trapped?’ Fox barked. ‘But this can’t be so. This is a wildlife sanctuary.’ He racked his brains. ‘There’s a reason for this, there’s got to be.’ He turned to Vixen. ‘Do you think the animals are being removed for their own safety?’
‘How can anywhere be safer than here?’ she questioned. ‘Outside the Reserve is all hostile country.’
‘The thought has occurred to me,’ said Fox in a low voice, ‘that there could be some danger from the rats. Supposing they are infecting other animals in some way, the Warden would need to take steps on our behalf.’
‘He’d be more likely to get rid of the rats,’ was Vixen’s opinion. She sounded very sure on the point.
‘I dare say you’re right,’ Fox allowed. ‘Then what can it be?’
Dash knew nothing about rats. She begged the foxes to explain to her.
‘Brown rats are infiltrating the Park,’ Fox informed her. ‘In dribs and drabs so far, but their numbers are increasing. We’ve been trying to keep them in check.’
Dash suddenly recalled Vixen’s mention of Weasel. ‘Has poor Weasel disappeared?’
‘Yes, he’s gone,’ said Fox. He looked hard at Dash, as if all at once the implication had hit him. Weasel captured by humans! He couldn’t go along with this – he, Fox, the leader of the Farthing Wood community! ‘Tell me where you saw the group of men,’ he snapped urgently.
Dash jumped. She was startled. ‘It was – it was – as I came past the deer pasture,’ she explained. ‘The men were standing in a line by the rough grass. There were no deer about. Perhaps they’ve gone too?’
‘No. I don’t think so,’ Fox said. ‘They may have been drinking. Vixen,’ he went on, ‘I think we should go without delay. Dash can go with us. We have to find out where the animals are being taken. Plucky and Weasel must be rescued!’
5
In Human Hands
Fox and Vixen ran silently in Dash’s wake. Less swift than they once were, they frequently fell far behind the hare’s rapid pace. Every so often Dash paused until they caught her up. Then, as she neared the spot where the trap for the animals had been laid, she slowed up. The men were no longer standing in a line. Their work was finished for the moment and they were packing up, bundling their equipment into the back of the van – along with the collection of animals taken that morning. The van was closed up. Two men got into the front. The van’s engine was started and then the vehicle moved slowly away over the grass at a pace calculated not to jolt the cargo. The other men walked behind. Fox, Vixen and Dash watched their departure with pounding hearts. Where would they go?
Fox told Vixen to stay with Dash. Then, keeping well back, he followed the men, sinking to his belly instantly when any one of the walkers turned his head. In this way he trailed the men to the Warden’s cottage.
Now Fox received a new shock. The Warden himself opened the Park gate, a heavy wooden structure, to allow the van to leave. Fox, hidden behind a tree stump (a casualty of the storm), recognized the man who for so long had been the Park’s guardian. Here was something he really couldn’t comprehend. Why was the Warden permitting wildlife to be captured and removed from his own preserve? The van trundled away down the drive. The Warden and the other men went inside the cottage, talking amongst themselves. Fox slunk away, sore at heart.
Dash and Vixen came to meet him. Fox described with bewilderment what he had seen. Dash, her thoughts constantly occupied with Plucky, reacted with the utmost vexation. ‘Where did the humans go? Which way? Which way?’ she shrilled.
‘The Warden took them into his den,’ Fox replied.
‘But the machine, Fox, the machine!’ Dash cried. She was frantic. ‘The humans’ machine with the animals inside! Where has it gone?’
Fox could see he had been lax in not keeping the van in view. ‘I’m sorry, Dash. I couldn’t follow it after it left the Park. It was too fast for – ’
‘I can follow it,’ Dash broke in urgently. ‘It can’t be too fast for me.’ She had so much confidence in her own speed she couldn’t believe anything was faster. ‘Now, show me which direction to take!’
Fox was alarmed and looked at Vixen with misgiving. ‘You mustn’t go racing after humans,’ he warned emphatically. ‘They’re unpredictable and dangerous. Anything could happen.’
‘I’ll worry about that,’ Dash answered bravely. ‘Don’t you see, I’m the only animal who has even a chance of discovering where our friends are being taken. And we’re losing time now, precious time, Fox. Quickly, show me where to go, I beg you. It may be our last opportunity.’
Fox succumbed to her pleading and led her at a run to the Park gate. Luckily it was still open. Dash took his directions and galloped away in hot pursuit of the van. So swiftly did she bound along that she seemed like no more than a mere blur of speed. Fox and Vixen returned to cover with sinking spirits. Neither of them could imagine Dash would succeed in her mad undertaking, and they didn’t expect ever to see her again.
Meanwhile Dash pounded along the track leading from the Park to the open road. She soon saw the van ahead. The vehicle had necessarily continued to travel slowly, loaded as it was with livestock. The fleet-footed young hare was able to gain on it, gradually reducing the distance. Eventually, however, the track ended and the van turned into the road and accelerated away. Dash sped to the end of the track. She saw the road and recoiled, nervous of its frightening aspect. There were other vehicles passing along the road and she knew there was no possibility of her pursuing the van on that route.
But she was loath to give up. A moment’s consideration brought her attention to the fact that the downland overlooked this road, running parallel to it. She could run over the grass, therefore, and keep the road in
view. Quick as lightning, she leapt from the track on to the springy turf. Then she raced away, keeping the road on her right all along. She had some ground to make up now, because the van was moving much faster. At last Dash had found her moment to test herself. Now she’d find out whether she actually was the champion runner she believed she was. Exerting all her strength, she urged herself forward faster and faster, glorying more than ever in the power of her young body. She streaked towards the horizon and, a few minutes later, she saw the object of her chase – the van – down below on the road. The vehicle had come to a halt and was preparing to turn into another track through the very countryside Dash herself was traversing. She brought her helter-skelter pace under control and, creeping carefully to a screen of blackthorn, watched where the van went.
‘I didn’t lose them, I didn’t lose them,’ she chattered to herself, thrilled to think that her speed alone had retained a link between her friends in the Park and those taken away from it. She saw the van go rocking over the uneven stony track and, when she felt it was far enough from her that she dared move again, she herself dropped down to the track and loped along in its wake.
After a short journey the van, with Dash well to its rear, began to approach a high wall which ran across their path at right angles. There was a double door in its centre. The driver of the van unlocked the doors and swung them wide open. The van then proceeded inside the walled area and, just before the gates were closed again, Dash had time to see on the other side of the wall a vista of greenery – pasture, clumps of trees and stretches of woodland very reminiscent of White Deer Park itself. There was nothing more for her to do now. She couldn’t get inside this other enclosure, but she had the knowledge she had hoped for. She knew – and she could pass the information on to the others – exactly where the White Deer Park animals, Plucky and Weasel included, had been taken.