by Colin Dann
During these weeks they had not seen or heard any further evidence of the fact that they were in hunting country. Their narrow escape from the Hunt, and the terror they had all experienced had, with time, become little more than a bad dream.
However, while in the resting-place Fox had chosen for their last daylight hours on the downland, the animals’ memories were very suddenly and unpleasantly jolted.
It occurred during the afternoon while they were sleeping. Only Kestrel was awake. He never seemed to find it necessary to take more than a few hours’ rest. He had left his friends snoozing peacefully in the midst of a thick stand of thorn bushes, and was enjoying his solitude, alternately soaring and floating in the cloudless July sky.
His superb eyesight picked out various objects moving across the green expanse far below him. There were little groups of people picnicking, couples strolling with dogs, other birds forever flying from tree to tree and point to point, and motor traffic, in a moving rainbow of colours, flashing like beacons as the glass and chrome reflected the sun.
Kestrel looked out for the new road that Toad had mentioned. He knew in what direction it lay, but it was screened from his view by a high bank and a long, straight swathe of trees. Had he seen it, he would have been obliged to report that it was not at all the sort of thing they were expecting. As it was, a blur of scarlet in the far distance in another direction was an abrupt reminder of a danger they had almost forgotten.
Kestrel hovered, trying to assess the distance of the threat. There was no doubt that it was moving slowly towards him; he could see the ripple of movement running through the tightly-packed mass of hounds, and the pattern was repeated by the horses carrying their scarlet-coated burdens. He decided they were at present far enough off for him to remain calm, but not far enough away to be ignored altogether. He flew back to the camp to wake Fox and put the matter to him.
Fox thought they should move at once to be sure they kept ahead of the hunters, but he woke Vixen for her advice.
‘Yes, we should leave here at once,’ she said emphatically. ‘We can’t afford to wait and hope they won’t come this way. If we did, we might find we’d left it too late to get away.’
Fox nodded. ‘My thoughts exactly,’ he said. ‘But there’s no cause to alarm the others, is there?’
‘I think they’d be less likely to worry if you tell them why we’re moving on,’ Vixen said.
‘I expect you’re right,’ admitted Fox. ‘You always are,’ he added admiringly.
Vixen smiled and helped Fox and Kestrel to rouse the sleepers.
Some of the animals grumbled at first at their slumbers being interrupted, but Fox soon acquainted them with the seriousness of the situation.
‘Now there’s no need for any panic or alarm,’ he pointed out coolly. ‘As long as we keep to a good steady pace, there will be no danger. And when we’ve got safely across the new road, we’ll have put the Hunt, and everything connected with it, behind us for good.’
‘How long till we reach the road?’ asked Hedgehog.
‘I couldn’t say exactly,’ Fox answered, ‘but it’s just beyond that line of trees. Now, are we all ready? Come on, Toad, up you get.’
He looked all round to make sure everyone was with him. ‘Mole, are you all set? Good, I think that’s it, then. I can’t see Adder. I suppose he’s here?’
‘I’m right behind you,’ said the snake. ‘If you remember, you woke me before anyone else, and I’ve been waiting ever since.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ said Fox good-naturedly. ‘All together then?’
With a tuneful whistle, Kestrel was accompanied into the air by Whistler, but Tawny Owl continued to hold himself aloof, keeping a few feet behind them now that it was daylight.
Keeping their target of the line of trees constantly in sight, the animals made good progress across the last stretch of downland. No sound of hounds or horns reached their ears, and, apart from a few cautious pauses and detours to avoid other humans who were out enjoying themselves, they had little to worry about.
However, as the outline of trees gradually assumed a more definite shape while they approached, another kind of sound became increasingly noticeable. It was the sound of motor traffic.
As the nearest road in that vicinity was the one Toad had seen being built, Fox became more and more apprehensive. Eventually he called Kestrel down, and asked him to go on ahead and investigate.
The animals watched the hawk diminish into a black speck in the sky, and finally disappear beyond the trees. In a few minutes he was back.
Whistler and Tawny Owl escorted him to the ground, and the animals stopped for his report.
‘We might have guessed it,’ was Kestrel’s preliminary remark. ‘Toad’s new road has been finished, and it looks as if it’s been so for some time. There are six lanes of traffic on it, with an island in the middle, and high banks on either side.’
Some of the animals looked accusingly at the dismayed Toad, as if he were responsible.
‘Oh, heavens!’ he croaked. ‘I . . . I’m sorry, everyone.’
‘Nothing to apologize for,’ said Fox. ‘It’s a good while since you passed this way. Humans build quickly, as we all know to our cost.’
‘What’s to be done?’ asked Squirrel nervously.
Adder chuckled without humour. ‘We shall have to cross it, of course,’ he drawled.
‘But it’s impossible! We’ll all be killed!’ wailed Rabbit.
‘We wouldn’t have much trouble getting across one half,’ Kestrel told them. ‘There’s a big traffic jam on the side nearest us: a mass of cars and huge lorries stuck fast, nose to tail.’
Fox looked at him quickly. ‘And they are not moving at all?’ he asked sharply.
‘Only at long intervals, it seemed,’ answered Kestrel.
‘But by the time we get there, who knows?’
‘Surely it’s safer to wait until night-time to cross?’ suggested Weasel. ‘The road might be almost clear by then.’
‘There wouldn’t be so much traffic,’ Fox agreed. ‘But this is obviously a motorway, and motorways are never entirely clear.’
‘Even so, we’d have more chance then,’ Weasel insisted.
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Fox returned. ‘If we reach the road while this hold-up continues, we have a very good chance of at least reaching the centre island safely.’
‘Yes, and there we’d stay,’ Weasel said a little irritably, ‘while hundreds of human eyes looked on. No, I don’t like that idea at all.’
Fox lifted up a back leg and scratched himself thoughtfully. ‘We’re in danger of forgetting one thing,’ he said evenly, ‘the thing that decided us in the first place to travel at this time of day instead of during the dark hours.’
‘Well, we’ve heard nothing so far,’ Weasel pointed out.
‘Quite right,’ agreed Fox. ‘However, we must ascertain our position.’
Kestrel needed no bidding. ‘If you’ll just be patient for a minute . . .’ he said, and flew upward again to discover the whereabouts of the hunters.
What he saw was disconcerting. ‘They’re much closer,’ he told Fox. ‘I think the hounds might be on your trail again.’
‘Right. That answers your question, Weasel,’ said Fox decisively. ‘Press on, everyone. There’s no time to lose now. There’s not much further to go, and they can’t follow us beyond those trees. I think you’ll agree a lot of stationary cars is rather less dangerous than a maddened pack of hounds?’
‘Caught between two fires,’ muttered Adder.
The animals kept moving as quickly as they could, and the traffic noise was soon really loud and very frightening to them. Fox tried to keep everyone calm, but the fact was that none of them was at all used to being so close to heavy traffic, and the nearer they approached to the line of trees, the more nervous they all became.
‘This is ghastly,’ said Rabbit. ‘I don’t see why we can’t wait for the road to clear. Even if the Hunt should
come this way, they’re not likely to be concerned about us small fry. Fox and Vixen can go now if they want to.’
This last remark he made in a much lower voice, which showed that he did not have the courage of his convictions, and that it was intended to be unheard. But Hare swung round on him. ‘You’re an utter disgrace,’ he said witheringly. ‘Surely by now even your small mind has grasped the fact that Fox decides on the best course for all of us. There’s to be no splitting up. And I might add that you wouldn’t get far on your own without others to think for you.’
As usual Badger was the peacemaker. ‘Please, please, Hare, you know quarrelling is never any help,’ he said beseechingly. ‘And, Rabbit, you should try to be more unselfish, fox is in a very difficult position.’
‘I know,’ admitted Rabbit. ‘I’m sorry, Badger. I’m just feeling scared, I suppose.’ Only to Badger would the animals admit their faults.
His old striped face lit up with a smile and he said, ‘Of course you are, Rabbit. Nothing to be ashamed of. But we’ve been scared before, haven’t we? Nothing new to us, h’m?’ And he gave him a reassuring poke with his muzzle.
It was not long after this conversation ended that the animals heard for the first time proof that the Hunt was again on their tail, and closing the gap. The fear they had experienced on their previous encounter with the furious dogs and riders, when they had so narrowly escaped, returned to them in a moment, and Fox and Vixen unconsciously began to run faster.
Although the sounds of the baying and the shrill blasts of the horn were faint in the distance, all the animals knew only too well how swiftly this faintness became louder, and, taking no risks, every one of them began to streak across the remaining few hundred yards towards the trees.
Fox, Vixen and the hares were first to arrive, and they waited in the shade, in trepidation, as they watched their friends drawing nearer.
One by one they came up breathless, and Fox counted them all in. With all the little mice and voles safely arrived, only Adder was to come.
The animals strained their eyes to see him slithering through the grass, but no one could spot him.
Kestrel went off to discover his progress, and the rest of the party momentarily turned their attention to what lay before them. As they stood together under the shade of the trees they could see just a few yards more of grass in front of them, running up into a high bank that obscured the motorway at that point. Whistler volunteered to fly over the bank to report on the latest state of the traffic.
As he left, the animals looked back towards the downland they had just travelled through. There was no sign of Adder, but they could now see the first hounds breasting a slight rise, not half a mile away. They exchanged glances of alarm, but none of them spoke.
Mole broke the silence. ‘Do you think they’re coming for Adder?’ he asked timidly. ‘You know – in revenge?’
‘Oh no, not at all,’ said Fox. ‘But we can’t wait for him. He’ll have to manage by himself,’ and he involuntarily shivered as he continued to watch the hounds’ approach. With a visible shake of his head, he tried to pull himself together.
‘Come on, everyone!’ he said peremptorily. ‘Up to the top of the bank.’ And he nudged Vixen forward.
Together, the animals ran across the last open space and up the grassy bank overlooking the motorway. The bank was topped by an open wooden fence, which was no obstacle to them. They merely passed underneath the lower rail, and once on the other side they felt considerably safer from the sound of the Hunt.
However, there were now no more barriers between them and the motorway itself, and the crossing had to be faced.
The bank sloped straight down in front of them to the margin of the road, and a few feet beyond that was the nearest lane of traffic: cars and lorries of all shapes and sizes stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction, and all unmoving. Two similar rows of such seemingly peaceful monsters were lined up parallel to this, their gleaming metalwork baking in the heat, and from the end of each monster there issued a constant feathery column of smoke, that hovered for a little in the air and then seemed to vanish.
Separating these ranks of motionless vehicles from those that were roaring by in the opposite direction, was a thin strip of paper-strewn grass and weeds bounded on both sides by low crash barriers.
In one spot of this narrowest of islands, comfortably standing between the crash barriers, was the imperturbable Whistler. His back was turned to his friends on the bank, and he appeared to be completely engrossed in watching the fast traffic on the far side, for his head was turning rapidly from left to right as each vehicle flashed past.
‘He looks as if he’s been mesmerized,’ whispered Weasel.
The animals had taken in the scene before them at a glance, and at the sight of all the humans ranged in lines in their stationary cars so close to them, they instinctively dropped to their bellies, while the nose of every creature, big or small, wrinkled in disgust at the tainted air.
Fox knew they would have to make a move very soon. Save for Vixen, he more than anyone felt they could not risk remaining still, with the threat approaching them from the rear. Although he believed that the possibility of the hounds being allowed to go further than the line of trees was remote, that was enough for him.
Kestrel found them on the top of the bank, watching Whistler.
‘I couldn’t see him,’ he said, referring to the missing Adder. ‘I think he’s done this deliberately, in case he might be needed again to halt the advance of the Hunt.’
‘Hmph!’ Tawny Owl grunted. ‘That last exploit must have gone to his head then.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Fox said soberly. ‘Adder’s not like that, whatever else you might say about him.’
Above the roar and whine of speeding cars and lorries, and the low hum of idling engines, the animals caught again the hubbub of barking on the air.
Fox got up and looked behind him, then quickly dived down again.
‘We’ll have to move,’ he said bluntly. ‘It shouldn’t be difficult. There’s plenty of space under the backs of the cars. We can run in and out of those lines of cars and join Whistler before we’ve even been spotted.’
‘But, Fox, supposing they start moving when we’re halfway across?’ demanded Fieldmouse. ‘Even just a few inches’ movement could squash most of us, particularly the tiny ones.’
Fox looked again along the lines of traffic in both directions before he answered.
‘There doesn’t seem to be any likelihood of that,’ he said, ‘but the sooner we go the better.’
‘Perhaps there’s a footbridge over the road somewhere?’ suggested Rabbit.
‘Yes, and perhaps it will have tiny little steps up to it made especially for the convenience of mice,’ said Fieldmouse sarcastically.
‘I hadn’t thought about that,’ said Rabbit with embarrassment.
Fox turned to Kestrel, who had perched on top of the fence running along the ridge of the bank.
‘Kestrel, will you stay and keep an eye open for Adder?’ he asked.
‘Of course I will. Both eyes,’ he said merrily. The present difficulty facing the animals, as indeed with most of those they had already surmounted, did not affect him or Tawny Owl in the least.
‘Well, my friends,’ Fox said, turning to the rest, ‘will you come with me, then?’
He looked round with just a trace of shyness on his face. He knew that most of the animals felt they were safe where they were for the time being, but the thought of the Hunt was, naturally, never out of his own mind.
Without a word Badger got to his feet and, with a look, bade Mole take his place on his back. Hare rose too, and hustled his family together.
Vixen, who had caught the almost pleading expression on her hero’s face, nuzzled his side sympathetically and lovingly licked his fur.
One by one the other animals stood up. The rabbits were the last to do so. Tawny Owl flew off first to tell Whistler the heron to stay put.
Then Vixen ran quickly down the slope, shepherding the mice and voles in front of her, and in a trice they were lost to sight as they threaded their way through the traffic, under bumpers and between wheels, until they emerged on the island.
Fox let out his breath in a sigh of relief. Gathering the squirrels together, he made haste to follow in the steps of Vixen. Hare and his family went close behind him.
Weasel joined the hedgehogs, and eventually the rabbits, who were at last persuaded that the crossing was not as hazardous as they had believed, condescended to move.
Badger and Mole brought up the rear, so that in the space of a few minutes the whole party had safely crossed half the motorway, and was gathered in the precarious haven of the island between the two crash barriers.
Only Kestrel remained on his look-out post on the fence, searching in vain for a sign of the missing Adder.
As Fox and the rest of the party sat amongst the litter and weeds pondering their next move, they could see human faces looking at them in astonishment from the imprisoning cars and the cabs of lorries. Excited children gesticulated to their parents, their mouths oohing and aahing in silence behind the glass. The line of traffic nearest to the island held humans who were a matter of inches only from the animals, and before long tentative arms groped towards them from open windows. Fortunately for the animals they remained just out of reach, and as the vehicle occupants were all aware of the law prohibiting walking on the motorway, they were safe from any interference.
However, they did not greatly enjoy the closeness of the humans, and they all looked despondently from the roaring traffic on the other side of the road to their audience in the stationary rows, feeling very exposed.
But unknown to the animals, a mile away, where the jam started, traffic was starting to move forward at last. Like an imperceptible wave rippling to the shore, the movement was passed back down the long queue until finally it reached the spot where the animals had crossed. So the vehicles inched forward, taking away the amazed passengers. The animals were soon forgotten as their various journeys and errands reassumed their prime importance in the humans’ minds.