The Tattoo Fox Makes New Friends

by Alasdair Hutton

  ‘Myrtle is a pretty name. Where does it come from?’ asked the cat.

  ‘The myrtle is my mistress’s favourite flower,’ replied the terrier. ‘It’s the symbol of honour in ancient Greece. Myrtle leaves were used to make the wreaths for the winners of the first Olympic Games.’

  The Castle Cat was impressed. More fascinating facts to add to his collection.

  At the Jacobite restaurant, the kits jumped on to a large gun. ‘Down!’ scolded the Tattoo Fox. ‘That’s the One o’Clock Gun.’ She wanted to show Myrtle and the Castle Cat that she knew some fascinating facts too. ‘We hear it every day, except for Sundays.’

  The kits scampered ahead, down the road and over the drawbridge. On the Castle Esplanade was a neat row of cars. Myrtle headed for the silver one. ‘This is my mistress’s car,’ she said. ‘I can wait for her here. Thank you again.’ I’ve so enjoyed meeting you.’

  ‘Come back in the summer and watch the Tattoo with us,’ the Fox said. ‘I’m having a party.’

  ‘I’ve heard the Tattoo fireworks from home but I’ve never actually been,’ Myrtle said. ‘I would love to come!’

  ‘I’m looking forward to my Tattoo party,’ said the fox with a spring in her step as they made for home.

  6

  The Roaring Crowd and a Noble Penguin

  The fox cheers on the men in blue

  Then finds a new friend at the Zoo

  The winter was far from over when the Castle Cat invited the Tattoo Fox to join him at a rugby match at Murrayfield Stadium the following Saturday. They set off at dawn to avoid the crowds. Before long they reached the stadium gates and trotted through the tunnel leading to the famous rugby pitch. There were a few people checking the seating or making last-minute tweaks to the turf. Nobody noticed a fox and a cat in such a vast space.

  ‘This is huge,’ whispered the fox.

  ‘It’s the Calcutta Cup today, there won’t be a single empty seat,’ said the cat. ‘We might need to watch from the roof! But first let’s have a run on the hallowed Murrayfield turf. Come on!’ The Castle Cat was a keen follower of rugby. The two friends ran onto the grass and scampered towards what looked like an enormous letter H. ‘If we make it over the line, we’ve scored a try for Scotland!’

  But suddenly there was an angry shout and the friends veered left and escaped down the nearest tunnel and up a set of stairs. ‘That was a narrow squeak,’ said the cat.

  ‘Yes, but fun,’ said the fox, her eyes shining. ‘Let’s find somewhere near the pitch to watch the match. Then we can slip away at the end before the crowds leave.’ Back downstairs again, they found the perfect spot next to the low wall surrounding the pitch. Comfortable and completely hidden, they settled down and fell asleep.

  They were wakened by a growing noise. The stadium was filling up with rugby fans of all shapes and sizes, finding their seats and greeting their friends. Some of them clapped in time to the military band playing on the pitch. The fox and the cat took up their positions just as a mighty roar broke out from all over the stadium. The England team, all in white, ran on to the pitch, bouncing up and down, stretching their necks and looking fantastically fierce.

  Then an even louder cheer rose from the stands as the home team, dressed in blue, ran out. They too bounced and stretched, loosening their muscles in preparation for the match. After a few moments, the stadium quietened and the crowd sang the two anthems. Then the referee blew the whistle – and the match began.

  The noise was louder and went on longer than the train and all the planes the friends had encountered put together. All around the stadium people roared their support for the brave players. Play surged from end to end and the score was very close. By the time the final whistle blew, both teams were muddy and exhausted, battered and bruised. It had been a splendid game.

  But the fox and the cat were so absorbed that they missed their chance to leave before the crowds. ‘This is my worst nightmare,’ muttered the fox. But she knew she had to be brave. Finally the friends managed to wind their way through thousands of legs until they found the little bridge leading over the Water of Leith into the streets and gardens of Saughtonhall.

  ‘We are very close to Edinburgh Zoo,’ said the cat. ‘It must be closing time soon, and I’d love to introduce you to one of my oldest friends. By the time we’ve done that, the rugby crowds will have gone.’

  Glad of some peace and quiet, the fox followed the cat through a side gate to Edinburgh Zoo and they hid in the bushes while the last of the visitors were leaving. Then they sped up the hill.

  ‘These are not friends of mine,’ said the Castle Cat as they passed the African Painted Hunting Dogs. ‘I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could throw them.’

  The Tattoo Fox wondered how far the cat could have thrown one of those handsome creatures, but decided not to ask. ‘They don’t look in the least like Myrtle,’ she said instead. ‘I’ve never seen birds like these around the Castle,’ she observed a few moments later. Their long legs were so spindly that she didn’t know how they supported their plump pink bodies and their large black beaks. ‘And I’ve never seen anything like those either,’ she said, as they passed two black and white bears.

  ‘Those are Giant Pandas,’ said the cat knowledgeably. ‘They come from China and I do not think they speak our language.’

  ‘Hello, Giant Pandas,’ called the fox.

  The pandas looked puzzled.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said, and trotted on.

  There was a sudden whiff of fish and water. ‘Here we are,’ said the cat brightly. ‘Time to meet a very fine fellow.’

  The fox was surprised that any friend of the Castle Cat’s would live near water. But there was a good reason.

  ‘Welcome to Edinburgh Zoo’s famous penguins and – over there – the most famous penguin of them all, Sir Nils Olav.’

  The important-looking penguin waddled over and the Castle Cat made the introductions.

  ‘Welcome!’ said Sir Nils. ‘And why are you called the Tattoo Fox?’

  The fox explained and Sir Nils clapped his flippers at the description of her marching with the bands. ‘I love it! And funnily enough, I am here because of the Tattoo although I have never been. I was adopted many years ago by the Norwegian King’s Guard, and every time they come back to perform at the Tattoo they promote me because of my long service and good conduct. That is why I am called Sir Nils Olav, an honour approved by King Harald himself. And, as a matter of fact, I am now the Commander in Chief of the Norwegian Armed Forces,’ he added proudly.

  ‘Please come and watch the Tattoo with us next year!’ The fox was excited by the idea of having a titled penguin in her party.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ replied Sir Olav. ‘But my legs are too short to walk that far. Don’t worry though – we penguins never miss a performance. There’s a perfect view of the fireworks from here. We line up and enjoy every minute of it. Sometimes we can hear the bands, and sometimes we take a celebratory midnight dip after the show’s over. Perhaps you’d come and join us one evening?’

  ‘Perhaps…’ said the fox. She didn’t want to appear rude. ‘But we had better go now. Goodbye, Sir Nils, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.’

  One of the Scottish Wildcats hissed and spat as they padded past. ‘Just ignore him,’ said the Castle Cat. ‘He may be Scottish and a cat, but he is not a friend,’ he added. ‘A bit on the wild side.’ They walked a little further. ‘These, on the other hand, are worthy of the name ‘cat’.’ He strutted past the Big Cats who looked at the Castle Cat rather curiously.

  ‘He’s rather a small specimen,’ muttered the lion, luckily not loud enough for the Castle Cat to hear.

  By the time the fox and the cat had left the Zoo the rugby crowds had disappeared and it wasn’t long before they were making their way back up the Castle rock again.

  As she curled up that night the Tattoo Fox thought of Sir Nils Olav and all his penguin friends.

  Edinburgh was full of lovely sur
prises.

  7

  A Magical Mystery Tour

  The fox and cat head for the sea

  And find a new friend up a tree

  Princes Street Gardens looked magnificent with the crocuses in full bloom.

  ‘They’re such plucky little plants,’ said the dog fox early one morning. ‘A sure sign of spring. The weather is too good to be stuck in the den,’ he continued. ‘Let’s see if the Castle Cat’s in the mood for an outing.’ He went off to find their friend and a few minutes later they returned.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked the kits. They had only just woken up.

  ‘Wait and see,’ said their father. ‘It’s a Magical Mystery Tour.’

  ‘It is not too far and all downhill,’ said the cat, who was in on the secret.

  The animals wove their way quickly through the New Town and down the hill towards a park where the cat suggested they stop for a rest.

  ‘This is a huge garden,’ said the Tattoo Fox gazing around.

  ‘It’s no ordinary garden,’ replied the cat. ‘It’s the Royal Botanic Garden.’ The Castle Cat loved anything to do with the Royal Family. ‘Expert gardeners and botanists collect plants from all over the world and look after them here.’ He glared at one of the kits who was trying to dig a plant label out of the ground. ‘Please,’ he said sternly, ‘don’t do that.’

  The fox kit scampered off and hid her face in the dog fox’s fur.

  ‘That house is made of glass,’ said the Tattoo Fox, changing the subject.

  ‘That is the Palm House where they grow trees from countries that are hotter than Scotland. They keep it cosy for them. It’s the tallest glass house of its kind anywhere in Great Britain,’ the cat added.

  They stretched out between the roots of a very tall tree with a dark red trunk and were soon drowsing in the early morning sun.

  All of a sudden there was a scuffling noise above their heads. The Tattoo Fox sat up, checking on the kits who were playing a tumbling game down a nearby slope.

  ‘Ouch!’ The cat scrambled to his feet. ‘We’re under nut attack!’

  The dog fox was being bombarded too. ‘Take cover!’ he cried and they all dashed beneath a shrub.

  ‘Spoil-sports!’ A red squirrel ran head first down the tree trunk and bounded towards them. ‘I know you’re in there and I promise I’ll play nicely,’ she said. ‘It was just too tempting…’

  The fox kits emerged first. They liked the sound of playing nicely. ‘We’re on a Magical Mystery Tour,’ they told her.

  ‘But we’re not stopping here,’ said the cat crossly, rubbing his head with his paw. ‘That is no way to treat guests. This is a royal garden, after all.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the squirrel. Her tail drooped with embarrassment. ‘You looked more fun than some of the big dogs from the houses round about. Where do you live?’

  The Tattoo Fox explained that they lived by Edinburgh Castle. ‘And we are a lot more fun than big dogs,’ she agreed.

  ‘I can see Edinburgh Castle from Inverleith Park on a fine day, but I’ve never visited,’ said the squirrel.

  ‘Then you must!’ declared the Tattoo Fox. ‘I’m having a party for the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo – please come. Bring a friend, if you can. The more the merrier.’

  The squirrel turned in a tiny circle six times, chittering with excitement. Her tail sprang back to normal. ‘Marvellous! I’d love that. I would join you on your Magical Mystery Tour, but I have to dig up the rest of my store of nuts. If I can remember where I hid them…’

  ‘For eating, not throwing, I hope,’ said the cat sharply.

  ‘Yes, definitely,’ said the squirrel. She ran back up the tree to wave them off. ‘See you at the Tattoo!’

  The animals set off, joining a cycle path. Most cyclists ignored them, but some stopped and took photos with their phones. The Castle Cat always showed them his best side. Before long, the Tattoo Fox picked up the smell of the sea. She looked surreptitiously at the Castle Cat but he didn’t seem worried. Exactly where was this Magical Mystery Tour taking them?

  The dog fox led the way towards Leith docks. The kits were nervous about the ships and machinery, but the Castle Cat explained everything. ‘That one lays cables at the bottom of the sea, and those are platform supply vessels – they take food and equipment out to the oil rigs in the North Sea.’

  Then they found themselves looking up at a ship so tall that they couldn’t see the top of it. ‘Some cruise ships like this carry more than a thousand passengers,’ said the cat. ‘But I have a much more special ship to show you.’ They turned the corner to discover a smart ship with a dark blue hull, its white paint shining in the sunshine and lots of little flags fluttering in the breeze. ‘That, my friends, was the Queen’s yacht, the Britannia,’ said the cat. He sighed. ‘For forty years Her Majesty sailed the world in it. But now she is moored here and goes nowhere.’ His voice was a little sad.

  People were hurrying up and down the gangway carrying boxes and crates. ‘That’s all the food on board,’ one of the men called as he jogged down the gangway. ‘We’ll be back this afternoon with the glasses.’

  ‘Thanks, Ed! The band’s due any time – they want to rehearse,’ replied his friend. ‘This is going to be quite a party.’ He waved and headed back on board.

  And that was when the Tattoo Fox noticed that he was not alone. Four pointed ears were following him up the gangway.

  The kits!

  They ignored the dog fox’s first furious bark. Then the second… There was nothing else for it. Their parents would have to go and fetch them.

  The two foxes and the cat crept out and along the quayside, then scurried up the gangway. They paid no attention to the beautifully laid table in the State Dining Room, and barely noticed the Queen’s Sitting Room or the Royal Bedrooms. They looked everywhere – in every nook and cranny. Where were the kits?

  ‘I hope they haven’t fallen overboard,’ said the Tattoo Fox.

  ‘We’d have heard all about it if they had,’ remarked the cat, shuddering. ‘They can’t have vanished into thin air. Let’s make for the Verandah deck. Follow me!’

  ‘Somebody’s coming!’ whispered the dog fox. ‘Quick! In here!’ The door to the Sun Lounge had been left open and they all dashed inside. A steward walked by carrying a tray of glasses, humming to herself. All of a sudden there was a mewing noise from behind one of the chairs. The two fox kits were snuggled up together, shivering with fright.

  ‘What have I told you?’ said the Tattoo Fox. ‘Never ever go off on your own!’ She was relieved to find them, but very cross too.

  ‘They’re safe, that’s the main thing,’ soothed the dog fox. He nuzzled the kits toward the doorway. ‘Your mother’s right,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve given us the most dreadful fright.’

  The Castle Cat simply shook his head and turned on his heel. He was fond of the kits, of course, but they were a handful.

  Silently, the five animals headed for the gangway. But escape wasn’t to be that simple.

  The Band of the Royal Marines began their rehearsal for the evening’s party, including By Land By Sea, the bugle march named after the Royal Marines’ motto, songs from all over the British Isles, a dazzling display of drumming and finally Rule Britannia followed by the National Anthem.

  ‘Bravo!’ cried the conductor when they’d finished. ‘You’re in excellent form.’

  But one of the trombone players had caught sight of the tip of the Tattoo Fox’s tail behind a curtain. ‘Isn’t that the fox from the Tattoo?’

  ‘You’re right – I’d know that tail anywhere,’ said a bugler.

  ‘Run!’ barked the dog fox, and to the amazement of the band and everybody else on board the Britannia, four foxes and a large grey cat streaked past them and leapt down onto the quayside.

  ‘Hope you enjoyed the concert!’ yelled one of the trumpet players. ‘Let’s give them a proper send off,’ he cried, and the band broke into a spirited rendition of Life on th
e Ocean Wave.

  ‘Perhaps that wasn’t the Magical Mystery Tour you imagined,’ said the dog fox that evening once the fox kits were settled for the night.

  ‘Apart from losing the kits, it was even better than I had hoped,’ said the Tattoo Fox. ‘Thank you.’

  8

  Fire!

  The foxes meet a nasty rat

  And stop a fire with their friend cat

  Early one morning the fox family was playing among the daffodils when the Castle Cat joined them.

  ‘Did you realise,’ he asked, ‘that tomorrow is the first day of summer?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ admitted the Tattoo Fox. ‘I’m always so busy that the changing seasons just creep up on me.’

  ‘On the first of May people climb up Arthur’s Seat at dawn to wash their faces in the dew,’ said the cat. ‘They believe it’ll make them beautiful for the rest of the year.’

  ‘And does it work?’ asked one of the kits.

  ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ said the cat, ‘so I am sure it does work for lots of people.’ He went on to explain that in many northern countries people used to light bonfires to welcome the summer. ‘The soldiers are all going to the Beltane Fire Festival tonight – the night before May Day – on Calton Hill.’

  ‘Can we go and wash our faces in the dew on the Castle Rock?’ asked the kits.

  ‘You don’t need to,’ said their mother, ‘you look lovely already.’

  ‘There’ll be too many people, too much noise, and – worst of all – fire,’ warned the cat. ‘Not a place for animals.’ He made it a rule to stay well away from fires these days. He would never forget the night his fur was singed by the Hogmanay fireworks.