by Colin Dann
‘Oh yes,’ lisped Adder, who was still thinking very much about the Edible Frogs, but had no intention of mentioning it. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose,’ he said.
‘The truth is,’ Lizard went on, ‘the distance might well prove too great for us. After last night, we don’t look forward to many weeks – or even months – of such hard going. And we know we’d be a burden to the rest of you.’
‘I think you’re very wise, Lizard,’ said Toad. ‘There’s really nothing at White Deer Park you wouldn’t be able to find here. Kestrel will be able to tell you that no humans use this corner of the army land. You’re as safe here as in a Nature Reserve. They can’t build here.’
‘Exactly,’ said Lizard. He turned to Badger, who looked as if he were about to try to persuade him to change his mind. ‘You’re very kind, Badger,’ Lizard said. ‘But I know, in your heart of hearts, you can see the sense in our decision.’
Badger dropped his head and nodded weakly. ‘Well, I suppose you’re right,’ he conceded. ‘But I hope no one else is going to stay behind?’
None of the other animals appeared in the least disposed to call a halt to their journey.
‘That’s good,’ said Fox. ‘Now, I suggest that to recover fully from the first stage of our journey, we remain here for another day. Then, when we’re completely rested, we can decide, with Toad’s advice, where to make for on our next stage. Any disagreement?’
No voices were raised on this point, and the meeting ended. Lizard’s intervention had prevented any definite plan on the animals’ future travelling pace from being formulated.
The animals stayed in the gorse thicket until it was completely dark. Then some of them began to ask Kestrel and Tawny Owl about the water-hole in the marshy ground, and it was eventually decided that, after they had all taken another nap, Tawny Owl would show them the way.
Pheasant and his mate and Kestrel returned to their roosts, while the animals found comfortable sleeping-places. Mole decided to dig himself a short way into the earth, where he said he would sleep better, while the squirrels climbed up into a small oak tree.
Tawny Owl, who really came to life at night, and who was completely relaxed in the darkness, went and perched on a railing. Fox and Badger, who also spent most of their waking hours in the dark, elected to join him for a time, as they had too much on their minds to be able to sleep.
They sat down at the foot of one of the metal posts. Fully occupied with their thoughts, none of the three spoke for some time. Finally, Fox broke the silence. He seemed to air the thoughts of all of them when he said, ‘I wonder just what chance we’ve got of going through with this thing?’
‘Well,’ said Badger, ‘if we’re careful, you know . . .’
‘I’m worried about Toad, you see,’ Fox went on, as a light breeze began to blow soothingly through his fur. ‘Everything depends on him really, and he’s completely exhausted himself on the very first stage.’
‘He made the journey before,’ Badger pointed out.
‘That’s the whole point.’ Fox gave his head a shake. ‘Perhaps two journeys of such length will be too much for him. I was really thinking of him when I suggested staying on here another day.’
‘He mustn’t walk any more,’ said Badger.’ He’ll just have to ride, like Mole.’
‘I’ve had the same thought,’ said Fox. ‘I’d carry him willingly. But, apart from that, when he made the journey before, he only had himself to think about. He travelled at his own pace, within his own limits. We’ve got far greater responsibilities.’
‘Oh come, Fox, it’s early days yet,’ put in Tawny Owl. ‘It’s not like you to be pessimistic.’
‘I’m trying to be realistic,’ returned Fox, a little brusquely. ‘But you’re right, Owl,’ he added, ‘we must look on the bright side and . . . well, go carefully.’
For some minutes longer, they sat there, eagerly breathing in the coolness of the breeze. Then Fox and Badger rejoined the other animals.
Tawny Owl spent a considerable time skimming noiselessly from tree to tree, enjoying the freedom of solitude and darkness. Occasionally, he hooted with all his old confidence, as he had done in the times when Farthing Wood had been intact. Eventually, deciding that the animals had napped long enough, he swooped swiftly in a graceful curve from a lofty elm branch and landed by the gorse thicket. Here he hooted again. ‘If anyone wants a drink, now is the time,’ he announced.
Almost at once he felt that he was standing on a small earthquake. The ground underneath him began to shake, and the earth definitely began to give way. Tawny Owl flapped upwards in alarm, and then noticed Mole’s snout appearing through a hole in the ground, near where he had been standing.
‘Good evening, Tawny Owl,’ said Mole. ‘I’ve had a wonderful sleep. I’ve quite slept off all those worms I ate.’
‘You must have a wonderful stomach,’ Tawny Owl remarked a little coldly. He was feeling peeved about showing alarm in front of Mole, an animal he felt to be distinctly inferior to himself.
‘Oh yes,’ said Mole cheerfully. ‘I could quite easily start all over again now, and eat twice as many. Oh, I can’t wait to get to that marsh. Where’s Badger?’
‘Behind you,’ Tawny Owl said drily.
Mole gave a little jump. ‘H . . . hallo . . . Badger,’ he said.
‘Now, Mole, Tawny Owl’s taking us to the water. We’re not searching for any more worms,’ said Badger.
Mole looked very crestfallen. ‘I didn’t know you’d been listening,’ he said in a small voice.
The kindly Badger relented a little. ‘Well, perhaps there will be time for one or two,’ he said. Then, turning, he called out, ‘Come on, everyone! Tawny Owl’s waiting.’
The animals began to assemble, talking amongst themselves about the drought, and the problem of finding water during their journey. Toad was still too tired to join them, and Adder’s experience with water the previous day rendered him quite unwilling to make one of the party.
So this time the animals were able to set a smarter pace, and with Tawny Owl at their head, flapping like a grey ghost through the air, they moved off through the dry bracken and grass.
Every blade of grass, every fern-frond, seemed to be drooping for want of moisture. The grass stalks were dry and brittle, looking like so much straw, and everything, including the lower leaves on the scattered trees, was grimed with dust, and panting for air.
Mole, grimly clutching the brindled hairs on Badger’s back, thought only of the second feast he intended to have when they reached the marsh.
Under the animals’ feet the ground felt bone hard, and it seemed to have retained a lot of the heat from the daytime sun, despite the slight breeze that blew. But after they had walked in silence for some time, the ground grew softer. It had a spongy feel to it; and from the clumps of dry reeds that abounded, the animals knew that they had reached the outskirts of the marsh, a part that had dried up. They began to tread carefully.
Fox, who was leading, saw Tawny Owl fly further ahead and then perch awkwardly on a reed tussock, there being no trees within easy distance. When the animals came up to him, he said, ‘I can’t go any further now. The water’s just ahead. Watch how you go. The ground’s very damp here.’
Fox nodded and went forward slowly, picking up his paws carefully, and gingerly testing the ground in front of him at each step. At this pace, the party went forward another twenty yards. Then Fox called back, ‘I can see the water now. Everyone stay here, and I’ll go forward and find a safe path.’
The animals held their breath as the chestnut body of their leader went further on, one slow pace at a time. After about thirty paces, they saw him stop and bend his head. Then he turned round. ‘It’s all right,’ he called back. ‘Just come straight forward, in single file, and don’t run. You’ll be quite safe. The water’s cold, but very bitter,’ he added.
One by one the animals went forward, treading carefully along the path Fox had taken. Mole slipped from B
adger’s back, and sportingly volunteered to be last in the queue.
Once behind the other animals, without Fox’s or Badger’s eye on him, Mole felt free to follow his own pursuits. His own short-sighted eyes could just make out Fox at the waterside, supervising the drinking. Badger was queuing along with the rest. Mole retreated a few paces and felt the ground under his feet to be promisingly spongy. Swiftly he began to dig, his voracious appetite demanding satisfaction.
Worms! Plump, juicy worms were in Mole’s mind as he dug, and nothing else. He paid no attention to the muddy water that was seeping into the hole in little trickles as he dug deeper. In his excitement he forgot he was on dangerous ground.
The other animals eventually finished drinking, and collected on drier ground. All of them felt much refreshed. Fox looked all round to see if everyone was present.
‘Are we all here?’ Badger asked him.
‘No,’ replied Fox with a serious expression. ‘Mole isn’t. I bet he’s gone off after those worms.’
‘He has. I saw him tunnelling.’ Tawny Owl swooped in.
‘You might have told us,’ Fox said shortly. ‘We shall have an awful job getting him up now.’
‘Since Badger gave him permission, I saw no reason to tell anyone,’ Tawny Owl replied in his most dignified manner.
Fox looked at Badger in surprise.
‘Well, before we set out I did just say to Mole there might be time for him to catch a couple of worms,’ Badger explained. ‘But, of course, he should have waited for the appropriate time. I didn’t know this would happen.’
Fox shook his head. ‘You’re too kind-hearted by half, Badger,’ he said. ‘He’d eaten more than enough already.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Badger, ‘But, Fox, you know how Mole can sound so plaintive.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Fox nodded wearily. ‘I’m as fond of him as you. But this is plain greediness on his part. However, don’t let’s waste any more time talking. Where was he tunnelling, Tawny Owl?’
Tawny Owl flew to the spot and pointed to it by extending his legs downwards over the hole, while he flapped his large wings furiously to maintain his position.
‘Weasel, will you take the others back?’ Fox asked. ‘Badger and I will follow behind with Mole as soon as he appears again. It would teach him a lesson if we all went off and left him to get back to camp on his own, but then we’d probably never see him again.’
Weasel obliged by leading the party off in the direction of the animals’ first camp.
‘There doesn’t appear to be anything in this hole except water,’ said Fox, looking closely at the ground. ‘Are you sure this is the right place, Owl?’
‘Positive. Distinctly saw him go down there.’
‘Well, good heavens, he’ll drown!’ Fox said with alarm. ‘Quick, Badger, we’d better dig another hole next to this and see if we can reach him.’
The two animals furiously raked back the spongy soil, but as soon as they got about six inches down more water quickly filled up the hole. They tried three more holes, each time with the same result.
‘It’s no good,’ Fox said, not daring to look at Badger’s face. ‘He must be drowned already.’
‘Oh no! Surely not!’ Tawny Owl exclaimed, feeling very guilty. ‘He’s probably branched off through a tunnel somewhere. I’m sure he’ll surface again in a moment.’
At that moment their attention was taken up by what appeared to be a red glow through the trees. ‘Whatever’s that?’ Badger muttered, and looking down, began digging again.
‘Should we call him, do you think?’ asked Tawny Owl, who had perched on a reed tussock.
‘No point,’ said Fox. ‘He’s more likely to feel our vibrations on the ground than to hear our voices. I’m afraid I’m not very hopeful. I’m sure that if he could, he would have surfaced by now.’
‘Perhaps he’s still eating?’ Badger said hopelessly. ‘His appetite, you know . . .’
‘SSSh,’ hissed Fox. ‘Listen!’
In the distance they could hear voices, a lot of voices, beginning as a whisper and rapidly becoming louder. They exchanged glances of alarm, their bodies frozen into stillness. The red glow they had noticed seemed to waver, then glow all anew.
Suddenly they saw Weasel rushing towards them, and close behind him were the hares and rabbits.
‘Fire!’ he yelled. ‘Run for your lives! FIRE! FIRE!’
9
Fire!
Fox’s first instinct was to turn and run, for, like all animals, he was terrified of fire. He knew with what swiftness it could engulf the homes of defenceless wild creatures like himself, burning everything in its path. He also knew that where there was fire there would soon be large numbers of humans, trampling everywhere with strange, frightening machines and awful noise. But Fox did not run. His sense of responsibility returned to him, and he courageously resisted this first impulse.
As Weasel dashed past him in panic, he called out, in a voice ringing with authority, ‘Stop! You’re running straight into the marsh!’
Weasel’s headlong flight was checked, and he dutifully turned back towards his leader. The rabbits and Hare and his family followed.
‘I’m sorry, Fox,’ said the sobered Weasel. ‘We just panicked.’
‘Where are the others?’ snapped Fox, one eye on the flickering glow in the distance. ‘We’ve no time to lose!’
‘They’re following,’ said Weasel. ‘We were nearly back at the camp when we saw the flames. Adder and Toad were coming towards us, moving as fast they could, and they called out to us to go back the way we’d come.’
‘Toad!’ Fox exclaimed. ‘He’ll never be fast enough to get away. The grass is so dry the flames will just roar along. Trees, shrubs, everything will go up. He’ll be overtaken in no time. I must go back – before it’s too late.’
At that moment Kestrel and the pheasants alighted on the ground by Tawny Owl. ‘The other animals are nearly here,’ said Kestrel. ‘The squirrels and hedgehogs are well ahead of the flames, and the mice are not far behind.’
‘What about Toad?’ Fox barked.
‘He’s doing his best. Adder tried to help him, but he told him to go on and save himself. I’m afraid without help . . .’
‘I’m going back for him,’ Fox said grimly. ‘Badger, I’m leaving you in charge. You’re to take the party right round the edge of the marsh. If we can get to the other side we might be safe. The damp ground here may check the flames. Anyway, it’s our only chance. Wait for the other animals to reach you here; then all go together. Toad and I will join you as soon as we can. Owl, I’m relying on you to guide them clear of the water. Badger, you lead the way, and tread carefully – the ground’s dangerous here. But go as fast as you can. Ah! The squirrels and hedgehogs are coming now. Good luck!’
Fox raced off in the direction of the flames. The other animals bunched nervously round Badger and Tawny Owl. The hedgehogs and squirrels joined them.
‘How far behind are the fieldmice and voles?’ asked Badger.
‘They’ll be here any minute,’ panted the senior hedgehog.
‘Have you seen Adder or Toad?’
‘No.’
‘We must wait for Adder,’ Badger said. ‘Fox has gone for Toad.’
‘I don’t think we should wait,’ said Tawny Owl. ‘We can’t jeopardize all the animals’ safety for one member of the party. We don’t know how far away he is.’
‘We’ll ask the mice when they get here,’ Badger insisted.
The glow through the trees was brighter now, and the animals could hear the noise of the flames. Against the black sky, the trees in the distance flickered redly.
A moment later, the furry mass of mice and voles spilled into the foreground, squeaking in alarm. They reported no sign of Adder.
‘We can’t wait,’ Tawny Owl said again.
‘We’ll give him as long as it takes for two hundred beats of the heart,’ said Badger.
Two hundred heartbeats, while under threat o
f being overtaken by fire, were obviously several times as fast as usual. Badger listened to his pounding heart and realized the impossibility of counting. But he forced himself to stay still just a little longer, in the midst of all the restless, milling animals. None of them dared to bolt, for the dangers of the marsh were directly ahead, and they felt themselves trapped between that existing danger and the approaching one.
The few agonizing moments paid off. Adder’s red eyes, baleful in the darkness, were spotted by Kestrel. In a trice he had joined the ranks.
‘At once now, Tawny Owl,’ Badger commanded, and Tawny Owl led the birds into the air, while the animals set off at top speed behind Badger.
‘Round the marsh,’ he called to the birds. ‘Kestrel knows the way.’
As the animals raced on, Tawny Owl called down directions to them from his position twelve feet above the ground. Without answering, Badger religiously obeyed them, leading his party in diversions around marshy ground, avoiding holes and bunches of reeds that screened treacherous mud. With every step and every gasping breath, the animals knew they were putting the flames further behind them. Every so often Badger and the larger animals stopped to allow Adder and the voles and fieldmice to catch up; then they raced on. Weasel dropped back to take up position as rearguard, encouraging the slow ones, and keeping an eye open for Fox.
After half an hour they reached the end of one side of the marsh, and began to turn the long corner to reach the other side – what Fox had hoped would be the safe side. The younger animals were exhausted, and all of them, adults and young alike, ached in every limb.
‘Owl!’ Badger called up. ‘We’ll stop for just a very short rest. The youngsters are gasping.’
The birds landed, and the animals sank to the ground, bodies heaving violently, their throats parched and their eyes streaming. They gulped in the air with hoarse, shuddering breaths.
In the far distance they could still see the fire. They were now on slightly higher ground, and they could see the movement of the flames. Even as they watched the fire seemed to come nearer.