Danger in the Deep Dark Woods

by Jennifer Gray

  ‘Thaddeus, old man!’ A handsome fox with thick fur and a well brushed tail clapped him on the shoulder with his paw.

  ‘Snooty Bush!’ Thaddeus cried. ‘I haven’t seen you for years!’

  Snooty Bush shrugged. ‘I’ve moved to the town,’ he said. ‘It’s so much cooler than living round here. We go on bin raids every night. And sleep in until lunchtime. And there are loads of hen parties. Whereabouts are you these days?’

  ‘Here,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said shortly.

  ‘What, still in the Deep Dark Woods?’ Snooty Bush raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Yes.’

  You’re not living in that old burrow your dad dug, are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Snooty Bush gave him a snooty look. ‘You should get out more,’ he said.

  Thaddeus E. Fox didn’t reply. He’d forgotten what a know-it-all show-off Snooty Bush was. To his annoyance Snooty Bush sat down beside him.

  ‘You know what?’ Snooty Bush glanced around the walls of the Great Dining Hall. ‘I reckon I’ll be so famous one day I’ll get my portrait up there.’

  The wood-panelled walls were covered with pictures of famous old Eat’emians. There was Sherlock Fox, the famous detective; Count Dracu-Fox, the bloodsucker; and General Fox Kitchen, who won the famous Battle of the Deep Dark Woods against the badgers in 1918.

  ‘Good for you,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said sourly. He wished he had something to boast about. His eye fell on a huge painting at the end of the hall, which rested on the mantelpiece above the fire. The painting was of the two hundredth headmaster of Eat’em College, Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker, deceased. Seeing the face of the horrible headmaster gave Thaddeus E. Fox an idea.

  ‘Hey, Snooty, remember old Tail-Spanker?’ Thaddeus E. Fox said. ‘He once whacked me ten times with a recorder for being rude in music.’

  ‘So what?’ Snooty Bush guffawed. ‘He once whacked me twenty times with a ruler for snoring in science,’ he yawned.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Thaddeus E. Fox’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well, he once whacked me fifty times with a pencil for giggling in Greek.’

  Snooty Bush picked up a beetle from the floor and flicked it expertly at the portrait. It whizzed across the room and smacked the portrait on the nose. ‘That’s nothing,’ he sneered. ‘He once whacked me a hundred times with a exercise book for farting in French.’

  The two foxes started to argue furiously, each one trying to outdo the other with their stories of the terrible Tail-Spanker.

  Amy and Boo sat on the branch watching closely.

  ‘That snooty fox is really winding Thaddeus up,’ Ruth observed.

  ‘But he’s not actually afraid of him,’ Amy said. ‘He just doesn’t like him.’

  ‘He seems quite afraid of Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker, though,’ Ruth said.

  ‘That’s true,’ Amy agreed. ‘But he’s dead …’ Even as she said it, Amy knew that she had just had a tiny flash of chicken genius.

  The two chickens looked at one another.

  ‘That’s it!’ Ruth said. ‘Tail-Spanker!’

  ‘The voice changer!’ Amy said. ‘I can pretend to be his ghost!’

  ‘Am I missing something?’ Just then Boo rejoined the group.

  ‘Thaddeus E. Fox is scared of his old headmaster,’ Amy explained gleefully. ‘So is the snooty fox he’s arguing with. They probably all are. If they think Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker has come back to haunt them then they might run away!’

  ‘Where are Kebab Claude and Tiny Tony Tiddles?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘Being chased by a badger on the other side of the Deep Dark Woods,’ Boo said. ‘I put some of the essence down its sett. It didn’t look too pleased when Tiddles and Claude dropped in.’

  ‘Well done, Boo,’ Amy said. She turned her attention back to the foxes. ‘I’ve got to get behind that picture.’

  Ruth pointed upwards. ‘Go along the rafters,’ she said. ‘They won’t see you if you’re with all the other chickens.’

  ‘Okay,’ Amy said. ‘Wish me luck!’ She ducked through the window, being careful not to cut her toes on the broken glass, and pushed the ‘up’ button on the flight booster.

  ZOOM! She shot up to the wooden beams where the chickens were being held captive and landed amongst the chicks. They started cheeping frantically.

  ‘Shhhh,’ she told them sternly. She didn’t want the Month 4s ruining everything again. ‘I’ll free you in a minute. Now pipe down before the foxes hear you.’

  The chicks were silent.

  Amy crept along the rafter towards the painting.

  Beneath her she could hear the two foxes still arguing about their old headmaster.

  ‘Call that a whacking?’ Thaddeus E. Fox shouted. ‘He once whacked me five hundred times with a rubber for laughing in Latin.’

  Amy reached the painting. It was propped up on the mantelpiece. She noticed there was a narrow gap behind it at the bottom where it stood out from the wall. Amy eyed the gap carefully. If she pulled her tummy in she might just be able to squeeze behind the picture with the voice changer.

  Checking none of the foxes were watching, she took off her flight-booster engine, dropped down from the rafter on to the mantelpiece and wriggled into the gap. Amy breathed a sigh of relief. The foxes hadn’t seen her.

  ‘Big deal!’ Snooty Bush yelled back. ‘He once whacked me a thousand times with a whistle for spitting in sport.’

  Amy made a tiny hole in the canvas with her toe so that she could see the foxes. They were all engrossed in the argument. They seemed to have forgotten about the banquet, for the moment at least. This was her chance. She gave a little cough and raised the voice changer to her mouth.

  ‘SHUT UP!’ Amy shouted. She was surprised to hear a terrible voice ring round the cottage. Then she realised it was hers! At least it was her speaking but the voice changer had made her sound like a very cross and cranky old fox: Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker, to be precise.

  Amy peeped through the hole in the canvas. The effect on the foxes was electrifying. They were all staring at the painting, pointing and barking excitedly. She gave another little cough then tried again.

  ‘I SAID SHUT UP,’ her voice boomed. ‘OR I’LL WHACK YOU ALL A MILLION TIMES WITH MY … ER … TOENAIL CLIPPERS!’

  She put her eye to the hole. She was pleased to see that both Thaddeus E. Fox and his snooty pal looked petrified.

  ‘It’s old Tail-Spanker!’ Snooty Bush gasped.

  ‘But he’s dead!’ Thaddeus E. Fox blinked.

  Amy giggled. She was beginning to enjoy herself. It was fun being Tail-Spanker. She spoke into the voice changer.

  ‘I MIGHT BE DEAD BUT I CAN STILL GIVE YOU A GOOD WHACKING!’ she shouted. ‘WE TAIL-SPANKERS DON’T STOP JUST BECAUSE WE’VE KICKED THE BUCKET.’

  She took another look through the hole. To her joy the foxes were getting ready to leave.

  ‘I’m going back to the city!’ Snooty Bush picked up his top hat and dashed out of the door. ‘It’s safer.’

  ‘Wait for us!’ The rest of the Gentlemen foxes chased after him.

  Very soon only Thaddeus E. Fox remained. ‘But …’ he said uncertainly, gazing hard at the picture.

  Amy frowned. He was proving hard to dislodge. She raised the voice changer.

  ‘BUTT, BUM, BACKSIDE, BOTTOM,’ she yelled. ‘I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU CALL IT, FOX. IT’S ALL THE SAME TO ME. I’LL WHACK IT! ESPECIALLY IF IT BELONGS TO YOU, YOUNG THADDEUS.’

  ‘I …’ Thaddeus E. Fox began. He was braver than the other foxes.

  ‘HOW DARE YOU SPEAK BACK TO ME??!!’ Amy thundered. ‘NOW BEAK IT, OR I’LL COME OUT THERE AND WHACK YOU.’ She tapped her beak on the voice changer mouthpiece. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. The sound was magnified a zillion times. It sounded as though a huge cross fox was banging at the picture, trying to get out. The noise echoed around the empty room. Up above in the rafters, the captive chickens squawked in terror.

  The cacophony of noise was too much for Thaddeu
s E. Fox. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going,’ he yelped.

  Amy put her eye to the hole. She grinned at what she saw. She’d done it! Thaddeus E. Fox was spooked. He rammed his top hat on his head, grabbed his cane and fled.

  ‘You can come out now, Amy.’

  It was Ruth’s voice. It was coming from the rafters. She and Boo must be up there untying the chickens, Amy realised.

  ‘Okay,’ Amy tried to wriggle her way out. To her dismay she found she couldn’t. She was sandwiched behind the portrait of Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker.

  ‘They’ve all gone, Amy!’ Boo’s voice floated down. ‘Now hurry up and give us a hand to free the chickens before the foxes discover it’s a trick.’

  ‘I can’t!’ Amy said. ‘I’m stuck.’

  ‘Breathe in,’ Boo suggested.

  Amy breathed in. She wriggled some more. But the more she wriggled the faster she became stuck.

  ‘Rip the painting,’ Ruth advised.

  Amy raised her toe to the little hole and tried to make it bigger. But the canvas was tough. Try as she might she couldn’t get anywhere. And it was hard work balancing on one leg in such a small space. She fell over.

  ‘Help me move the painting, can’t you?’ Amy tried to push against the frame but the picture wouldn’t budge.

  ‘In a minute,’ Boo said. ‘We’re just freeing the chickens.’

  Amy could hear the sound of cheeping and squawking as the prisoners were released.

  Amy heaved against the painting again.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Ruth was saying, ‘we’ll soon have you down.’

  ‘Help!’ Amy said. She was beginning to feel quite scared.

  ‘There, that’s the lot,’ Ruth said. ‘Go and help Amy, Boo.’

  To Amy’s relief Boo’s strong wing wrapped itself around the picture frame. ‘Push,’ Boo said. Amy strained against the painting. ‘It’s no good!’ she panted. ‘It won’t budge.’

  ‘Get into groups,’ Ruth took charge of the freed chickens. ‘Stick with the other chickens from your coops.’

  Even though she was scared, Amy felt proud of Ruth. Ruth sounded just like a real teacher: not a horrible one like Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker, but a nice, kind, sensible one who knew what to do. Amy peeped through the hole. The chickens were organising themselves as Ruth had asked. Even the chicks were doing what Ruth told them.

  ‘One grown-up in charge of each group,’ Ruth said calmly.

  She hopped over to the painting. ‘What’s happening?’ Ruth’s voice subsided to a hiss. ‘Where’s Amy?’

  ‘She can’t get out,’ Boo replied in a whisper. ‘You go with the chickens back to the pens, Ruth. I’ll stay and help her.’

  ‘No!’ Amy squawked from behind the portrait. ‘Go with Ruth.’

  ‘I’m staying,’ Boo said in a firm tone.

  ‘All right,’ Ruth agreed. ‘But you’d better hurry. It won’t be long before Fox and his gang work out it was a trick. Good luck, you two.’

  Ruth led the chickens at a brisk trot out of the door and into the Deep Dark Woods in the direction of the chicken pens.

  ‘Don’t worry, Amy,’ Boo said. ‘We’ll soon get you out of there. I’ll see if I can find a sharp stick or something to slash the painting.’ She disappeared too.

  Amy was left alone. She waited.

  After a little while there was a scuffling sound at the entrance to the Great Dining Hall.

  Amy listened hard. It didn’t sound like Boo. She looked through the hole in the canvas. Amy gulped. Her knees started to knock. It was Thaddeus E. Fox! He was back. And that meant he suspected he had been tricked. And it wasn’t just Fox either. He was closely followed by two other members of the MOST WANTED Club: Kebab Claude and Tiny Tony Tiddles.

  Amy raised the voice changer with a trembling wing. ‘WHO DARES DISTURB THE GHOST OF THE GREAT BERTRAM FOX-WILLIAM TAIL-SPANKER?’ she squeaked. Even to her the voice didn’t sound very convincing this time.

  ‘Who was that?’ Kebab Claude asked nervously.

  ‘That’s what I’m intending to find out,’ Thaddeus E. Fox replied.

  ‘The chickens have escaped,’ Tiny Tony Tiddles’ voice was full of disgust. ‘How did you let that happen?’

  ‘For the same reason you disappeared out of the door and ended up having a fight with a badger,’ Thaddeus E. Fox snapped back. ‘I was tricked. I think our friend Professor Rooster has been busy,’ he growled, ‘with his little chicken squad.’

  Behind the painting Amy’s breath came in short rasps. There wasn’t any point in pretending to be the ghost of Bertram Fox-William Tail-Spanker any more. She was doomed!

  ‘You mean …’ Kebab Claude began.

  ‘I mean they scared off the pigeons somehow and laid a false trail to get you and Tony out of the way,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said. ‘And then one of them got in here and used some kind of machine to make it sound like the picture was talking so that all the foxes left. Am I right?’

  With a shock, Amy realised his voice was directed straight at the picture. She felt like crying. He was talking to her! She hoped Boo was safe.

  ‘The reason I know all of this,’ Thaddeus E. Fox continued conversationally, ‘is because when I got back to the burrow it occurred to me that the headmaster of Eat’em College for Gentlemen Foxes would never use the word butt. Or bum for that matter. And he certainly wouldn’t say “beak it”.’ He was still addressing the painting.

  Amy could have kicked herself for being so stupid. She should have used posher words! She knew she should have paid more attention in English.

  ‘Great. So now you’ve been duped by a bunch of birds,’ Tiny Tony Tiddles said sourly, ‘like the rest of us. We might as well pack it in and go home. There ain’t gonna be no banquet. The chickens have all gone.’

  ‘Maybe not all of them,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said in a steely voice. ‘Let’s see. Kebab, give me some help.’

  To Amy’s horror the picture started to rock. A foxy paw appeared around one edge of the frame. A doggy one appeared around the other.

  ‘Lift!’

  The painting began to rise. Amy dug her toes into the groove between the frame and the canvas. She had to take them by surprise if she was to have any chance of escaping.

  ‘Heave!’ The picture rose further into the air with Amy still riding on the back of it.

  ‘Put it down.’

  The portrait was lowered to the floor.

  ‘Now tip it forwards. Claude, see what’s behind it.’

  Amy braced herself. She raised the voice changer in both wings to use as a weapon.

  Kebab’s head appeared around the edge of the canvas.

  BANG! Amy forced the voice changer over his nose as hard as she could. ‘Have a new muzzle!’ she squawked. ‘Courtesy of Professor Rooster.’ She plunged off the painting and raced towards the door.

  Kebab Claude staggered around the hall, his nose in the funnel. ‘’ELP!’ he snorted. ‘I can’t breathe!’

  ‘Not so fast, sister.’ Tony Tiddles appeared in front of Amy. He licked his lips.

  ‘Up here, hoodlum!’ Amy glanced up. It was Boo! She was balancing on the rafters. Amy didn’t think she’d ever been so pleased to see anyone in her life before.

  ‘You get that one, Tony,’ Thaddeus E. Fox snarled. ‘And I’ll eat the little fat juicy one.’

  Tiny Tony Tiddles scrambled up the wall towards the rafters.

  Seeing Boo had given Amy courage. ‘Come on then, Fox.’ She started running round in circles, looking for a patch of dirt. It was the only thing left to try: the feather dusty. She wouldn’t go down without a fight: especially not to Thaddeus E. Fox. ‘Prepare to get your butt kicked.’

  ‘Ooh, I’m scared,’ he said.

  ‘You should be.’ Amy’s circling had revealed something even better than a patch of dirt. In the corner beside Kebab Claude’s grill was an enormous bowl of lumpy custard. She headed towards it and landed in it with a flump. The custard oozed between her fluffy tummy feathers. />
  ‘Yum,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said. ‘Chicken with lumpy custard. My favourite Eat’em dish.’ He advanced towards Amy, his tongue lolling from between his teeth.

  ‘You okay, Boo?’ Amy glanced up again.

  ‘Never better.’ Boo was doing somersaults and backflips along the beam.

  Tiny Tony Tiddles was trying his hardest to catch her but Amy could tell from the dazed look in the cat’s eyes that he was getting dizzy trying to follow Boo’s gymnastic moves.

  Amy had a final wriggle in the custard, then leaped out of the bowl and started to run as fast as she could for takeoff, flapping her wings furiously. ‘Phew!’ Amy puffed. She’d forgotten how hard it was to get off the ground without the flight booster, especially with a tummy dripping with custard.

  BANG!

  Thaddeus E. Fox tried to hit her with his cane.

  Amy dodged him. Come on, she told herself. Come on.

  ‘You can do it, Amy!’ Boo urged. ‘I know you can.’

  Amy made one final effort and launched herself into the air. Slowly she gained height.

  Thaddeus E. Fox thrashed at her. ‘Come here!’ he snarled.

  CRASH!

  Amy looked down. Tiny Tony Tiddles had fallen off the beam. ‘Your plan sucks, Fox!’ he said. He limped out of the cottage and disappeared.

  ‘Great work, Boo!’ Amy cried. She did one more loop of the room and locked on to her target. With one final whoop, Amy launched herself at Thaddeus E. Fox.

  BASH! Her momentum knocked him to the ground. Thaddeus E. Fox lay on his back, his legs in the air, with a small custard-covered chicken wrapped around his whiskers.

  ‘Get off!’ he spluttered. The lumpy custard was in his eyes. It was in his mouth. It was in his whiskers. It was clogging up his fur.

  ‘Shan’t!’ Amy rubbed her tummy in his face.