The Animals of Farthing Wood

by Colin Dann

  ‘They’re going! They’re going!’ cried Mole.

  ‘How right you were, Fox, to cross at once,’ commented Weasel.

  ‘I’m very thankful it has proved so,’ Fox acknowledged.

  ‘Not such good news for Adder, though,’ remarked Toad seriously. ‘He’s more or less stranded now.’

  ‘Hallo! Here comes Kestrel,’ announced Badger. ‘I wonder if he’s seen him.’

  Kestrel alighted suddenly on one of the crash barriers. ‘The Hunt has turned back,’ he said with an air of drama. ‘The hounds were called off when they reached the line of trees. Now they’re all going back the way they came.’

  ‘Thank heavens that’s the last we shall ever see of them,’ said Hare grimly.

  ‘I’m afraid Adder hasn’t shown up,’ said Kestrel, ‘though once the Hunt has disappeared there’s nothing to keep him in hiding.’

  ‘Will you continue to watch for him?’ asked Fox. ‘Otherwise, if he can’t see any of us, he won’t know which way to come.’

  ‘I’ll go and have another search for him,’ Kestrel replied promptly, ‘but what about you? You can’t get across there.’ He motioned with his head to the speeding traffic that had not diminished in volume one jot.

  ‘Not at the moment, no,’ admitted Fox. ‘But surely it can’t go on like this indefinitely. There must come a lull sooner or later.’

  ‘And then you’ll risk crossing?’ Kestrel asked in surprise.

  ‘What else can we do?’ demanded Fox. ‘This strip of debris isn’t exactly my idea of a sanctuary. We’ll have to do it in bursts, when there’s a long enough gap between bunches of traffic.’

  Kestrel shook his head. ‘I honestly wonder if any of you except Hare are fast enough runners. Don’t forget you’ve got three times the width of a normal road to cross, and vehicles that initially appear far distant come up in a matter of seconds. Their speed is unimaginable to us wild creatures.’

  Fox’s brow creased with concern. ‘We have no option,’ he said gravely.

  ‘I think I may be of some use here,’ Whistler said. ‘Should it prove necessary, I could do a sort of portering job with the smaller animals – you know, ferry them across in my long beak.’

  ‘What a wonderful idea!’ Fox exclaimed. ‘But we can’t start until this dreadful traffic clears a bit. There don’t seem to be any gaps at all.’

  The animals sat and watched in dismay the unceasing stream of fast traffic. Where they sat, the stuffy air was thick and heavy with petrol fumes. Some of the young rabbits and Hare’s leverets began to feel sick.

  Kestrel flew away to take up his perch on the top of the bank.

  ‘Why is there any need for me to wait?’ queried Whistler, beginning to flap his damaged wing slightly, as if in preparation for flight. ‘I can relieve these youngsters’ discomfort straight away.’

  ‘Where will you take them?’ Fox asked.

  ‘I’ll unload them on the top of the opposite bank,’ replied the heron. ‘They’ll be quite safe there, and the air will be a little fresher.’

  ‘All right,’ said Fox. ‘Rabbit, Hare, get the little ones ready.’

  ‘It’ll have to be one at a time,’ Whistler explained, and he advanced upon the first rabbit, beak at the ready. Then, with extreme gentleness, he picked up the furry little body, using the blunt middle part of his beak and, holding it with just sufficient firmness, flew off to the safety of the far bank.

  One by one, in trip after trip, he carried the young animals to safety. Tawny Owl stood guard on the other side.

  ‘I might as well do the job properly,’ the heron observed to Fox, and began to ferry the voles and fieldmice across. Gradually the number of animals on the island dwindled in the face of Whistler’s continuing return trips, until finally Fox and Vixen, Badger, Mole, Toad, Weasel, Hare and his mate, and the adult rabbits, squirrels and hedgehogs remained – about half the party in numbers.

  Fox looked round approvingly. ‘We’re progressing,’ he said.

  ‘I haven’t finished yet,’ said Whistler. ‘Come on, Toad – you’re next.’

  Mole followed Toad, and the slender, light Weasel followed Mole. The squirrels, Whistler declared, were just about manageable, but once he had transferred all of them, he confessed himself beaten.

  The party was now split into three groups across the breadth of the motorway. On the downland side were Kestrel and, somewhere, Adder; halfway across, the hedgehogs, adult rabbits and hares, and Fox, Vixen and Badger were waiting; and in complete safety on the far side all the youngest, smallest and lightest animals were gathered under the joint guardianship of Tawny Owl and Whistler.

  This situation continued for a little longer, without any chance of alteration. Then, as was inevitable, the fast traffic began to thin out, and small gaps began to appear.

  ‘Hare, you’d better be ready,’ Fox warned him. ‘There’s a longish gap approaching.’

  Hare and his mate accordingly slipped underneath the outer crash barrier, and prepared for a lightning dash. As soon as the last car was level with them they hurled themselves across the three lanes of road and, without slowing down at all, raced up the bankside to join the others. They reached the top of the bank before the next cluster of traffic went past.

  ‘Fox, you and Vixen must be next,’ said Badger. ‘You’re faster than me. I may have to wait a little while yet.’

  Fox did not dispute this. He felt he should remain behind until he had seen all the party get safely across, but he was also concerned about Vixen’s safety, and so held his tongue.

  The two foxes positioned themselves on the outer edge of the island and, at the next gap in the traffic, streaked across. They were not as swift as the hares, and they had barely reached the other side before the next traffic came up.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve got much chance,’ Hedgehog said gloomily to Badger.

  These two, the other hedgehogs and the rabbits were now the only occupants of the island.

  ‘We’ll certainly have to be a little less adventurous than those four,’ Badger said.

  Another quarter of an hour went past. It seemed as if they might be stranded.

  Whistler flew over with a message from Fox. ‘He says, even if we all have to wait for the rest of the day, you’re not to budge until you’re sure you can risk it.’

  ‘Thank him,’ said Badger. ‘You can put his mind at rest on that point.’

  Eventually Badger saw a really promising space open up behind a group of cars that were fast approaching, and he got all the hedgehogs and rabbits lined up outside the barrier, alongside himself.

  ‘Go!’ he shouted gruffly as the last car flashed past, and all of them began to run desperately for the bank, himself included.

  Two of the older hedgehogs fell behind as the main bunch began to cross the second lane, and seeing the other animals increasing their lead, they began to lose heart. With such a small margin between danger and safety, a second’s hesitation was fatal. Badger and the rabbits and the faster hedgehogs reached the bank and turned round to see if they were all across. The two slower animals were just crossing the third lane, but the whole party could see they were not going to make it.

  As the first cars roared up, the two hedgehogs instinctively adopted their habitual posture of defence, and rolled themselves into balls; the very worst thing they could have done. It was all over in a trice. The rest of the party gasped in horror, and amongst them a deadly silence fell.

  Another dangerous obstacle had been passed. The animals were one step nearer White Deer Park, but two more lives had been lost.

  27

  Some comforting words

  Sadly, silently, Fox led the party down the other side of the bank and into the first field, a cornfield, that lay before them. Here the motorway was not only out of sight, but its awful roar and din had become just a murmur in their ears. Whistler alone remained on the bank top to watch out for the return of Kestrel.

  The animals lay down together in the mi
dst of the tall green corn, listlessly watching a group of tiny harvest mice climbing from stalk to stalk, using their little feet to balance on the stems as they ate. The thought of death lingered in their minds, and the hedgehogs were all wearing solemn, even severe, expressions. Only Toad, of all the animals, was feeling in good spirits, though he tried not to show it because of the others’ demeanour. He was feeling excited because, now they had crossed the motorway, he knew they were really not far from their destination.

  Whistler, standing like a sentinel on the ridge, kept his eyes fixed on the bank opposite, ignoring the traffic still streaming below. Kestrel suddenly swooped up from the direction of the downland and alighted on his piece of fence as before. He looked across the road and, seeing only Whistler, flew over to him.

  ‘Yes, they’re all over there in the cornfield,’ Whistler replied to the hawk’s first enquiry.

  ‘No mishaps?’ Kestrel asked.

  Whistler told him of the hedgehogs.

  ‘I suppose we should count ourselves lucky to have lost so few,’ Kestrel said philosophically.

  ‘And Adder?’ prompted the heron.

  ‘Oh yes. He’s all right,’ replied Kestrel. ‘He should reach the top of the bank over there any minute. You might just manage to catch sight of him from here. He’d been hiding in a ditch – said he didn’t want to be trampled. Of course he emerged once the Hunt had gone back.’

  ‘Well, let’s fly over and meet him,’ said Whistler.

  The two birds took to the air. When they reached the opposite bank, they could see Adder’s sinewy body winding itself through the grass of the slope.

  ‘I trust I shall not be expected to apologize for lateness,’ he remarked drily as he arrived on the ridge. ‘Four legs are faster than none.’

  ‘Fox is waiting for us with the others in a cornfield on the other side of the road,’ said Kestrel. ‘If you’re ready, we ought to join him at once.’

  ‘My readiness doesn’t have much bearing on the situation, I’m afraid,’ Adder drawled. ‘I fail to see how I am to venture on to a road such as that without immediately becoming transformed into an integral part of the tarmac.’

  Whistler winked at Kestrel. ‘You lead off,’ he said. ‘They’re in the first field. You’ll soon spot them from the air.’

  Kestrel at once flew up high, the better to pick out his friends from the green mass of the corn, and Whistler, before Adder had comprehended what was to happen, opened his long beak and snatched up the startled snake from the bank.

  The animals in the field had the double surprise of seeing Kestrel suddenly plummeting towards them from the empty sky, followed shortly afterwards by a whistling sound which announced the arrival of the heron, carrying an indignant Adder dangling from his beak like an enormous earthworm.

  The amusement they derived from the scene served to divert their minds, at least temporarily, from the recent tragedy. They began to chatter again, while Toad chuckled in his croaky way quite openly.

  With the return of Adder, the threat posed by the Hunt was at last over – for good.

  The cornfield became the animals’ resting-place for the following night.

  The foxes were the last to settle down. Although Vixen was quite ready to fall asleep, Fox was very restless and seemed unable to get comfortable. Vixen watched his vain attempts, and knew there was something bothering him.

  She moved closer. ‘What’s on your mind?’ she asked quietly.

  Fox turned his head to look at her as she lay down among the stalks of corn. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I can’t seem to relax. My head’s going round and round, and I can’t clear my mind of things.’

  ‘You’re worried about something, I can see,’ said Vixen in a sympathetic tone. ‘Can I help?’

  Fox smiled. ‘I don’t want you worried as well,’ he said.

  ‘If I am to be your mate,’ said Vixen with a touch of shyness, ‘I must share everything with you.’

  ‘That’s very comforting to me,’ Fox said. ‘You are the dearest creature.’ He licked her face affectionately.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about those hedgehogs,’ he explained. ‘Oh, I suppose it was no one’s fault. If anything, their age was to blame, poor animals. But whenever there’s a mishap, you see, I feel responsible.’

  ‘I know you do,’ said Vixen, ‘and it’s understandable. But you can’t control everything that happens. It’s not in your power to prevent such occurrences. Fox, you must put all this out of your mind. Nobody is blaming you.’

  ‘Of course, I realize that,’ Fox conceded. ‘They’re all such good-natured beasts. Even Hedgehog himself has avoided the subject ever since . . . but . . . but well, it’s just that I can’t stop wondering now if it would have been safer if we had waited until dark to cross.’

  ‘So that’s it!’ said Vixen. ‘I thought as much. You’re feeling guilty because your decision to cross was influenced by the Hunt.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fox. ‘You already know me pretty well, Vixen.’

  ‘Oh, how can I convince you that you did the right thing?’ Vixen cried. ‘You think that the Hunt was only interested in you . . . and me?’

  ‘They were,’ said Fox in a low voice. ‘The others might have been safer staying on the bank until dark. I can’t rid myself of the nagging doubt that two lives might have been sacrificed . . . to me,’ he finished in a barely audible voice.

  ‘What nonsense!’ Vixen exclaimed. ‘Don’t humans hunt hares . . . and badgers? And do you think those hounds, if they had caught us up, as they would have done on the bank, would have singled us out and spared all the others? The whole party was in danger, and you did the only possible thing. You removed the danger from all of us.’

  Fox was silent for a long time. Finally he said, almost timidly, ‘Do you really think so, dear Vixen?’

  ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything,’ she answered confidently. ‘And the others would agree with me.’

  ‘I’m so glad you feel like that,’ Fox said. ‘Perhaps I was right after all.’

  ‘Dear old Fox,’ said Vixen, nestling up very close, ‘don’t you know you’re already a hero to most of the animals? Just remember what you’ve led them through. You could never lose their respect now. And in only a short while, all this heartache will be over.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fox. ‘I really do believe we’re going to get there. How I long for that day!’

  ‘So do I,’ murmured Vixen. ‘I long for the peace and rest it will bring us all, and the feeling of uninterrupted safety.’ Her voice became a whisper. ‘But most of all I long for the day when I can have you all to myself, to be just my hero, instead of everyone else’s.’

  ‘Am I not your hero already then?’ asked Fox playfully.

  ‘Why else do I follow you everywhere?’ Vixen smiled and, laying her head against his, closed her eyes with a blissful sigh.

  28

  The deathly hush

  The sound of humans close by woke the animals early the following morning, and they at once prepared to move on. Once again they found themselves surrounded by farmland – only this farmland was different from any they had seen before. There were no hedgerows dividing the fields, no thatched farm cottages and no ancient lopsided barns. Everything was conducted in this area in a far more calculated, professional manner. Vast expanses of cereals and root crops grew mathematically in unbordered squares, without a wild flower or grass showing its head, even in corners. All unnecessary plants had been totally cleared away, and the fields had a cold, clinical look about them which seemed unnatural. The few trees that still existed were giants which had proved, in this cost-obsessed world, too expensive to move, and so they remained.

  The farmhouses were modern, brick-built and efficient buildings without so much as a leaf of ivy growing on their walls, and the lanes and paths were cemented or gravelled.

  Animals – farm animals, that is – could be heard cackling or grunting to each other, but they were never seen. It seemed they had all be
en shut away in the long, low concrete and steel outbuildings that were prevalent. In the overheated interiors they were probably quite unaware of the existence of lush green grass spread with buttercups, or blue sky, or the fresh feeling of a shower of rain.

  Because of the lack of cover the local wild creatures appeared to have deserted the area completely, and only domesticated sparrows, blackbirds or pigeons were in evidence. The wild creatures from Farthing Wood found great difficulty in making any progress, for they felt too exposed in these wide open spaces. In addition there seemed to be an army of farm workers about, driving the very latest and biggest monsters of machinery, and manipulating the very newest gadgets and tools.

  The animals all wanted to escape from this world, where they were clearly intruders, as quickly as they could. It was a manufactured world, devoted to human needs and requirements where anything animal or vegetable from the natural world was not only unwelcome, but considered a pest or weed, and treated as such.

  So the animals felt it necessary to remain hidden as much as possible during the daytime, and to continue towards their destination in the dark hours when the presence of humans was not such a risk. But, as the days passed, and nothing happened to alarm them seriously, they grew bolder.

  Kestrel returned from his morning reconnaissance flight one day to where his friends were sleeping under a discarded tarpaulin. The weather was warm, dull, but very still. Not a breath of wind was blowing.

  As usual Kestrel went straight to Fox and gently woke him. ‘There’s not a soul about,’ he whispered. ‘Everything’s as quiet as Badger’s old set out there. If we leave now, we could get away from this unpleasant area today. There are only a few fields for you to cross, and then you’ll be just outside the town.’