Danger in the Deep Dark Woods

by Jennifer Gray

  After the others had left, Thaddeus E. Fox returned to the table and sat down. He opened a drawer and took out a piece of expensive headed notepaper. The address on the top was Eat’em College. Thaddeus E. Fox smiled. He found a black pen and some Tipp-Ex. Then very carefully he painted out a word with the Tipp-Ex and began to write. When he was sure the Tipp-Ex and the ink were dry he rolled the piece of paper into a scroll, unscrewed the silver tip of his cane, placed the paper inside it, and replaced the end. Satisfied with his work, he curled up for a quick nap. Then, when it was pitch-dark, he picked up his cane and made his way silently out of the burrow, through the Deep Dark Woods to the wire of the chicken pens and there, very quietly, he started to dig.

  The next morning the hen-mistress of Dudley Coop Academy was sitting at her desk, writing end of term reports, when her secretary came in with a scroll of paper.

  ‘This arrived for you last night,’ the secretary said.

  ‘Thank you.’ The hen-mistress took the scroll and unrolled it.

  Inside was an invitation.

  ‘That sounds fun!’ the hen-mistress said. ‘I’ll pin it up on the door so that all the parents see it when they come to collect the chicks at home time. I’m sure lots and lots of them will want to go.’ She frowned. ‘If we can get out of the chicken pen, that is.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ the secretary reassured her. ‘Someone dug a hole under the fence last night.’

  ‘Great!’ the hen-mistress said. ‘That’s a big help. I’m sure we’ll all have a lovely time.’

  Later that morning at Chicken HQ, Amy sat dejectedly on her stool in front of the computer with Boo and Ruth beside her.

  ‘What’s Fox up to?’ Professor Rooster was back on the screen. ‘What??!!’ He limped backwards and forwards across the picture.

  Amy wished she could tell him. The problem was she didn’t know.

  ‘It’s something terrible. I can feel it in my feathers.’ Professor Rooster sighed. ‘I wish Pond was here,’ he muttered. ‘With him we might have stood a chance. Now …’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘There’s still a chance, Professor,’ Amy said quietly. ‘We’re a good team. Even without Pond.’

  ‘Amy’s right, Professor,’ Boo said. ‘We are. Honestly.’

  ‘Remember what Shigong Egg said?’ Ruth chipped in. ‘We’ve got courage, intelligence and perseverance. We can do it. Really, we can.’

  ‘Do what, though? That’s the question?’ Professor Rooster responded gloomily.

  Amy was thinking hard. Ruth’s mention of Shigong Egg had reminded her of something. ‘What were those nutty things Shigong Egg used to say?’ she asked her friends.

  ‘The road to wisdom lies through sheep dung?’ Boo suggested.

  ‘No, not that one.’ Amy scratched her head.

  ‘It takes many steps to reach the top floor … unless you take the lift?’ Ruth said.

  ‘No, not that either …’ Amy closed her eyes. She concentrated hard. ‘Wait! I’ve got it! “Know your enemy”,’ she said triumphantly. ‘That was it. “Know your enemy”. That’s what we’ve got to do with Fox.’

  ‘You mean maybe if we can get into Fox’s head, we can work out what he’s planning?’ Ruth said slowly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good thinking, Amy!’ Boo exclaimed.

  Some of the chickens’ enthusiasm seemed to have rubbed off on Professor Rooster. ‘You’re right, chickens,’ he said. ‘We need to know everything about him. Everything. From what he likes for breakfast …’

  ‘To what his favourite colour is …’ Boo said.

  ‘To what books he reads …’ Ruth suggested

  ‘To where he went to school.’ Amy chipped in.

  ‘By god, Amy!’ Professor Rooster cried. ‘That’s it! The college.’

  ‘The college?’ Amy repeated.

  Professor Rooster nodded. ‘Remember I told you that Thaddeus E. Fox was educated at Eat’em College for Gentlemen Foxes?’

  The chickens nodded.

  ‘There’s a reunion every year for the old boys,’ Professor Rooster told them. ‘A dinner. Thaddeus and all his old foxy classmates go. It’s always held at Eat’em College on the edge of the Deep Dark Woods.’

  ‘When is it?’ Ruth demanded.

  ‘The last Saturday in July.’

  Amy checked the calendar. ‘That’s today! We’d better get down to the chicken pens.’

  ‘But he can’t get into the pens,’ Ruth reminded her. ‘The humans strengthened the wire after the last raid, didn’t they, Professor? And even if he could get in he wouldn’t be able to take enough chickens to feed all those foxes.’

  Amy screwed her eyes tight shut again. She felt she was on the verge of a flash of chicken inspiration. ‘What if he doesn’t want to get in?’ she asked. ‘What if he wants them to get out?’

  ‘What do you mean, Amy?’ Boo asked.

  ‘What if he invited them?’ Amy said. ‘To the banquet?’

  ‘They wouldn’t go,’ Ruth said promptly. ‘No chicken would accept an invitation to a foxes’ banquet.’

  ‘What if they didn’t know it was a foxes’ banquet,’ Amy persisted. ‘What if they thought it was something else? What if they thought it was something more chickeny?’

  The others stared at her.

  ‘They’d never fall for it,’ Ruth said.

  ‘Yes, they would,’ Amy insisted. ‘The Month 4 chicks fell for Kebab Claude’s worm-burger stand.’

  ‘Amy’s right,’ Boo whispered. ‘They didn’t suspect a thing.’

  ‘But what about the grown-up chickens?’ Ruth said. ‘Surely they’d realise something was up?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Professor Rooster said heavily. ‘That’s the problem with the flock. They’re too trusting. And they don’t know about the foxes’ banquet or where Thaddeus E. Fox went to school. It’s quite possible Fox could dupe them into going there. It’s just the sort of sneaky, freaky, despicable, detestable, vile, sordid, wretched, loathsome, lousy, wicked, rotten, inhuman trick that lowlife fox would play to look good in front of his friends.’ He fixed the chickens with a stern stare. ‘Right, team,’ he said. ‘You’d better get over to the pens straight away. I just pray you’re not too late.’

  Despite the danger of the situation, Amy couldn’t help feeling a flicker of delight. The professor trusted them to do the job. Without James Pond! And they wouldn’t let him down. ‘Don’t worry, Professor,’ she said in a businesslike tone. ‘We’ll stop him.’

  ‘Take the Emergency Chicken Pack,’ the professor ordered. ‘You’ll find some things in there that might help you.’

  Ruth rummaged about in the gadget cupboard. ‘Got it!’ She strapped the pack around her neck.

  The chickens clipped themselves into their flight boosters and hopped out of the potting sheds.

  A few minutes later the chickens arrived at the pens. To their horror they were empty. The chickens of Dudley Manor had disappeared.

  ‘They must have got out under here,’ Ruth scratched at the hole under the fence.

  Amy squatted down. The hole looked as if it had been dug recently. And there was a tuft of red fur caught on the base of the chicken wire. ‘Fox!’ she whispered. ‘I knew it!’

  ‘Looks like you were right, Amy,’ Boo said. ‘He’s tricked them into leaving the pens.’

  ‘Let’s see if we can find any clues,’ Ruth suggested. ‘We need to be sure they’ve gone to the college.’

  The three chickens burrowed through the hole and scuttled towards the deserted coops. It was the first time they had actually visited the chicken pens. Amy thought what a lovely place it was. Or it would have been if it were full of chickens. There were about a dozen coops, all painted bright colours, tucked away amongst the trees. The little hen houses were made of wood with sloping red roofs, built up on stilts of brick. To get in you had to hop up a ramp and through a door. Amy thought they looked very comfortable. There was even a roosting box built out to one
side where you could go if you felt broody.

  One of the coops had lots of tiny muddy footprints leading up and down the ramp.

  ‘This must be the school,’ Amy said. She scuttled up the ramp to investigate. There was a piece of paper pinned to the door. Amy read it carefully.

  Boo and Ruth joined her.

  ‘It’s just as we feared,’ Amy said. ‘The chicks and their parents have gone to Eat’em College for the barbecue, not realising it’s them on the menu!’

  ‘We need to hurry,’ Ruth said. ‘We’ve got to stop Fox.’

  ‘How though?’ Boo asked as they descended the ramp. ‘I’m not being a scaredy-hen, but we don’t have a plan.’

  Amy and Boo both looked at Ruth.

  ‘Hmm …’ Ruth scratched her head. ‘Let’s see what’s in here. The professor’s bound to have thought of something we can use.’ She emptied the contents of the Emergency Chicken Pack on the grass. There were four items. The chickens had never seen any of them before. They regarded them curiously.

  ‘Handy Hawk Kit,’ Amy said, selecting a rectangular box. She read from the instructions: ‘Takes minutes to assemble. Remote control and batteries included.’

  ‘We can use it to scare the pigeons!’ Ruth cried. ‘They’re terrified of hawks. Here, pass it to me!’

  Amy handed it to her. ‘Do you know how it works?’

  ‘Easy-peasy,’ Ruth said, scrutinising the box.

  ‘What about these?’ Next Amy chose two small, labelled plastic bottles. One said ‘Essence of Beef’, the other, ‘Essence of Fish’.

  Ruth examined them. ‘The professor must have meant these for Kebab Claude and Tiny Tony Tiddles,’ she said slowly.

  ‘How?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Look.’ Ruth held up the bottles so that Amy and Boo could see. ‘Each has a dropper on the end so that whoever is using them can lay a trail for Kebab and Claude to follow,’ she said.

  ‘I can do that!’ Boo offered eagerly. ‘I can make it really hard to follow. That would give you enough time to free the chickens.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ said Amy. ‘That just leaves Fox. What do we do about him?’ There was only one item left on the ground. It was a curious funnel-shaped object with a handle. She picked it up. There was some lettering on the side:

  VULPES VULPES VOICE CHANGER

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Vulpes vulpes is Latin for red fox,’ Ruth said thoughtfully. ‘I think it means that when you speak through this you sound like one: a red fox, I mean.’

  ‘What good’s that going to do?’ Boo asked, mystified.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ruth admitted. ‘Maybe it’s to scare him?’

  ‘But Thaddeus E. Fox isn’t scared of other foxes,’ Boo said. ‘Is he?’

  Amy shrugged. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ She and Ruth stuffed the gadgets back into the Emergency Chicken Pack and the three chickens took off towards the Deep Dark Woods, ready for their mission.

  ‘There it is!’ Amy landed in an old crow’s nest at the top of a tall tree. ‘Look. Down there.’

  Eat’em College for Gentlemen Foxes lay beneath them, a hundred metres in from the edge of the Deep Dark Woods. The chickens peered curiously at the old stone cottage. It was long and low-built with narrow windows. It looked as if it had been designed by humans but then abandoned. The panes of glass were broken. Ivy grew up the walls. The roof was covered in green lichen. In fact, thought Amy, if you didn’t know it was there, you might not see it at all. It was almost as if it had been taken over by the Deep Dark Woods and become part of them. Yet there were signs of life. Or death, if you were a chicken, Amy thought. For at one end of the cottage stood a chimney. And from that chimney came a thin trickle of smoke.

  ‘We have to hurry!’ Boo said. ‘Give me the bottles.’ She made a grab for the Emergency Chicken Pack.

  ‘Wait!’ squawked Amy, putting out a wing to stop her. ‘Thaddeus E. Fox will be expecting us. He’s bound to have someone keeping a lookout.’

  ‘The Pigeon-Poo Gang!’ Ruth had donned her super-spec headset. ‘They’re over there.’ She pointed.

  Amy peered down. Hidden amongst the tangled ivy were the three pigeons.

  ‘Pass me the Handy Hawk Kit,’ Ruth ordered.

  Amy handed the box to Ruth.

  ‘Hold these.’ Ruth placed two cylindrical-shaped objects in Amy’s wings and got to work with the screwdriver.

  ‘What are they?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Batteries,’ Ruth said. ‘Don’t drop them. We need them for the remote control.’

  Amy held on to them tightly. She watched Ruth in admiration. Honestly, she was glad she didn’t have to assemble the hawk. It didn’t look very handy at all. She wouldn’t have a clue which bit went where. She was glad Ruth was so clever.

  ‘Finished!’ Ruth held up the model.

  Amy thought it looked really impressive. It had great long wings and a curved beak. From a distance it would be impossible to tell it was made out of cardboard.

  ‘Okay, here goes.’ Ruth placed the pretend hawk on the edge of the crow’s nest and pushed a button on the remote control. The chickens watched as the pretend hawk flew out of the tree and down towards the roof of the cottage. Once she was satisfied it was within sight of the pigeons, Ruth pressed the ‘hover’ button. Then she pressed ‘circle’.

  The hawk’s shadow moved in slow, measured loops above the dilapidated roof, as if it were looking for prey.

  Amy heard a petrified cooing. The Pigeon-Poo Gang flew up in a confused flutter of grey and purple. ‘It’s working!’ Her voice trembled with excitement. ‘They’re leaving!’

  The terrified pigeons disappeared into the woods.

  ‘Great work, Ruth!’ Amy said.

  ‘Okay,’ Boo took a deep breath. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

  Amy took the two small plastic bottles out of the Emergency Chicken Pack. She held them out to Boo.

  ‘You don’t need to take the bottles,’ Ruth said quickly. ‘Here.’ Gently she squeezed the rubber stopper on the top of each one; then let go of them gradually. Amy watched, fascinated as the liquid inside the bottles sucked up the tube. It was like magic!

  ‘Simple difference in pressure,’ Ruth explained. ‘When you squeeze the stopper it pushes the air out. When you put it in the bottle the liquid is drawn up inside.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Amy. She wished she’d paid more attention in science.

  Ruth removed the droppers and gave them to Boo.

  Boo tucked them under her wings. She smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Amy,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine this time.’

  Amy gave her a quick hug. After all, Professor Rooster wasn’t there to see! And anyway, Boo deserved it for being so brave. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered.

  Boo launched herself from the crow’s nest. She fluttered elegantly down from the tree, her feathered boots brushing the branches, and landed lightly on the ground close to the door of the cottage. Amy watched, her heart in her mouth. Please let none of the foxes come out now, she prayed.

  In the blink of an eye Boo squeezed a drop from each bottle on the doorstep and somersaulted under a bramble bush. From there she vaulted on to a fallen branch and squeezed two more drops of essence underneath it amongst some mouldy leaves.

  Then she raced along the branch, grabbed a twig and did a complicated dismount into a rabbit hole. Seconds later she emerged from the rabbit hole and somersaulted this way and that, deeper and deeper into the Deep Dark Woods until after a while she disappeared from Amy’s view.

  ‘Any minute now …’ Ruth predicted.

  Suddenly the door of the stone cottage was thrown open.

  Tiny Tony Tiddles came out, closely followed by Kebab Claude.

  Tiny Tony lifted his head. ‘Fish!’ he said. ‘I knew I could smell something even more delicious than chicken.’

  Kebab Claude’s chops drooled. ‘Beef!’ he sighed. ‘I want it.’

  The two villains dropped their noses to the ground and started
to follow the false trail that Boo had laid. Very soon they disappeared as well.

  ‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’ Ruth asked anxiously.

  Amy had no doubt. ‘Of course she will,’ she said. ‘She’s a chicken on a mission. Like us.’ Amy glanced at the chimney. The trickle of smoke was getting thicker. ‘It’s up to us to deal with Thaddeus and his pals,’ she said.

  ‘But what are we going to do?’ Ruth squawked.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea,’ Amy said. ‘But I’ve got a feeling this may come in handy.’ Clutching the voice changer in one wing, Amy flew towards the cottage. She settled on a convenient branch and looked in through the broken window.

  ‘Phwa ha ha ha ha!’ Thaddeus E. Fox was enjoying himself. What could be better than this? He was in the Great Dining Hall at Eat’em College for Gentlemen Foxes, lording it over some of his favourite old school pals. Above him, dangling from the rafters by their feet, were all the chicks from Dudley Coop Academy and their parents and teachers who had turned up for the Don’t Eat’em College for Ladies and Gentlemen Chickens Open Evening and Fair. In one corner was a huge bowl of lumpy custard to serve with the chickens once they were cooked. And in the other was a packet of semolina as a reward for the Pigeon-Poo Gang once they had made sure the coast was clear of Rooster and his annoying chicken squad.

  So far, as Thaddeus E. Fox had expected, everything was going according to his brilliantly conceived plan.

  ‘How’s the barbecue coming along, Claude?’ he shouted. Kebab Claude had set up his grill in the fireplace.

  There was no answer. Thaddeus E. Fox looked around the hall. He couldn’t see Claude anywhere. Nor could he see Tiny Tony Tiddles. They must have gone to collect more wood for the fire.

  Thaddeus E. Fox turned his attention back to his friends. He surveyed the room with pride. It was a good turnout this year, thanks to his promise of freshly grilled chicken. Crowds of foxes sat on benches either side of long trestle tables, talking excitedly. They were all dressed in the traditional Eat’em uniform – top hat, tails and silk waistcoats. Thaddeus E. Fox sighed with pleasure. It was a sight that made him feel good to be alive, especially as it wouldn’t be long before the chickens weren’t.