by Colin Dann
Badger knew what was in his mind. ‘I had already ruled them out,’ he agreed.
‘When will you leave?’ the cat asked next.
‘As soon as the man lets me go.’
‘That will be when you make it apparent you are eager to return to the Park. You’d better make it obvious you want to follow him when he next goes outside.’
The opportunity eventually arose and, the Warden showing willingness, Badger stood once more on the borders of the Park, sniffing the air in all directions. The snow still lay packed on the ground, and the icy temperature cut at his pampered body like a knife. He half turned back, looking towards the open cottage door that symbolized the way through to comfort. Ginger Cat was sitting on the threshold. He stood up. ‘I’ll come with you part of the way,’ he offered.
‘Gladly,’ replied Badger.
The Warden watched the two animals that had become fast friends walk slowly off. His job was done.
They skirted the Edible Frogs’ pond and Badger remembered Toad and Adder were sleeping nearby, deep down in a bankside away from the weather. All they would know of the winter would be from the stories they would hear from their friends.
‘I wonder how they’ve been?’ Badger muttered to himself. Fox and Vixen, Mole, Weasel, Tawny Owl … his friends seemed as strangers. He had become more familiar of late with a human’s pet than with his companions of old.
A little way further on Ginger Cat stopped. ‘I’ll turn back now,’ he said. ‘Go carefully. And my best wishes to Mole and the foxes.’
‘Farewell,’ said Badger. ‘Your company has been delightful. I know we shall meet again.’
‘Until then,’ responded the cat.
Badger watched his sinewy form retrace its steps through the snow. The sky was leaden above the Park; the air still and threatening. A snowstorm was imminent. He must reach his set as quickly as possible. There would be plenty of time to see his friends tomorrow.
The reticence Badger was feeling for re-adopting his old life and friends he himself would never had admitted – even if he had been conscious of it. But those same old friends noticed the change in him at once from their unchanged world. Mole, who had been haunting Badger’s set regularly ever since the animals had heard of his whereabouts, entered the set through his connecting tunnel. At first he thought a strange badger had commandeered the place, his old friend looked – and smelt – so different.
‘Oh! hallo, Mole,’ Badger greeted him unenthusiastically, as his little friend stood hesitantly. ‘Yes, it is me.’
‘I’ve been keeping a look-out for your return for days,’ Mole said. ‘We’ve missed you so much. But it was kind of the Warden’s cat to come all this way to put our minds at rest. I’m only sorry about the accident that occurred.’
‘He certainly deserved a better reception,’ Badger remarked rather coldly, to Mole’s consternation. ‘He only made the journey at all because I forced him into it, really. However, he asked to be remembered to you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Mole in a small voice. He did not like this new, gruff individual.
There was a silence for some moments. Badger did not seem at all disposed to carry on a conversation, and Mole was becoming timid.
‘You – you look d-different,’ he stammered. ‘Sort of fatter.’
‘I probably am,’ Badger agreed shortly. ‘I was fed well.’
‘I’m g-glad,’ Mole whispered. ‘I’ll go and tell Fox you’re here,’ he added, and moved away in a confused way.
‘Don’t bother yourself,’ said Badger. ‘I suppose I ought to go. Er – I’ll see you later, Mole.’
The crestfallen Mole watched his friend disappear up the exit tunnel without so much as a backward glance.
Outside it was dark and a fresh fall of snow had covered the Park. Badger’s face became grim and he gritted his teeth. The contrast between the stark world of the wild and the comfort of human habitation was heightened still further in his mind. On his way to Fox’s earth he was spied by Tawny Owl, who skimmed down from an oak branch.
‘Welcome back, old friend,’ the bird said, eyeing Badger openly. ‘You seem to have prospered during your spell under the Warden’s roof. You’ve got plump – and soft.’
Badger shrugged. ‘It was a welcome relief from staring starvation in the face,’ he said.
‘I can see that,’ Tawny Owl responded sarcastically. ‘It must make it all the more difficult to adjust back again.’
‘Why do I have to?’ Badger asked bluntly.
Tawny Owl feigned ignorance. ‘What do you mean, Badger?’
‘Come along with me to see Fox,’ Badger told him, ‘and I’ll put you both in the picture.’
‘Hm,’ Tawny Owl muttered. ‘This should prove to be a most interesting meeting.’
Fox’s earth was deserted when they arrived, and Badger said he would wait for Fox and Vixen’s return. So he made himself as comfortable as he could underground while Tawny Owl perched in a nearby holly tree. He found his thoughts straying back to that warm kitchen in the Lodge. He imagined his friend Ginger Cat curled up in his basket, secure in the knowledge that he could depend on being fed without even stirring out of doors, and quite oblivious of the icy clutch of Winter that still held imprisoned every inhabitant of the Park.
Yes, the ways of the Wild could be dreadfully hard, and the arrival of Fox and Vixen at that juncture gave an emphasis to Badger’s conclusion. Their emaciated frames, rimed with frost from the freezing air, slunk into the den and slumped, exhausted, on the hard ground. Badger, shocked beyond his expectation, was speechless. Presently the pair of foxes revived sufficiently to greet him. Of the two, Fox seemed thinnest and the most spent, which suggested that the best of the pickings of their nightly forays were going to Vixen. That would be Fox’s way, Badger knew.
But Fox had lost none of his shrewdness. There was a look in his eyes that seemed to penetrate to Badger’s most secret thoughts. His words, too, went straight to the heart of the matter. ‘Well, are you back with us now for good?’ he asked.
The question made Badger feel ashamed – ashamed of his well-fed appearance, his spotless coat. He felt as if he had betrayed Fox in a way, even if only in his thoughts. He did not know how to answer.
‘The other way of life seems to agree with you,’ Fox continued in a parallel of Tawny Owl’s remark.
‘Well, Fox, you know, I was injured,’ Badger said defensively, almost apologetically.
‘Of course you were,’ Fox said. ‘I’m sorry. How is your leg? Are you fully recovered?’
‘Absolutely, thank you,’ Badger replied a little more brightly. ‘But, my dear Fox – and Vixen – you look as if you are suffering dreadfully.’
‘Things are very, very hard,’ Fox admitted, shaking his head slowly from side to side. ‘Each day is harder. Only two of the voles are still alive, and scarcely more of the fieldmice. Rabbit and his friends have lost four of their number, too. And the squirrels find it almost impossible to dig through this never-ending snow to reach their buried nuts and berries so, they too, are dwindling. I really don’t know what’s to become of us all. We shall all die, Badger, if this weather doesn’t lift soon, I’m sure of it.’
Badger felt that now was the time to play his trump card. ‘There is an answer,’ he said quietly.
‘Well, let’s have it. We’re at our wits’ end.’
‘You don’t have to live in the Park,’ Badger explained. ‘Come back with me to the Warden’s cottage.’
Fox and Vixen looked at him in amazement.
‘You can’t mean it, Badger?’ Vixen spoke for the first time.
‘Of course I mean it,’ Badger insisted. ‘Why are you looking at me in that way? I was looked after, fed properly, and restored to health – and now I’m fitter than I’ve been for ages.’
‘But you were injured and found by the Warden’, Fox repeated to himself uncomprehendingly. ‘The welfare of the creatures of the Park is his concern so, naturally, he nursed you until
you were better.’
‘Exactly!’ cried Badger. ‘You’ve said it yourself. So isn’t your welfare, and the rabbits’ welfare, and the voles’ welfare, and everyone else’s welfare also of interest to him?’
At this point Tawny Owl poked his head down the hole. He felt he was missing an interesting discussion and wanted to hear. Fox’s voice was audible next.
‘Are you suggesting, then,’ he was saying in an incredulous tone, ‘that all of us band together and follow you to the Warden’s Lodge?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘And then what would we do? All rush inside the next time he appears at the door?’
‘I don’t know exactly what plan we could make,’ Badger allowed. ‘But we could work something out. Ginger Cat might help us think of something. Don’t you see, Fox, your worries about food would be over? You would have no need even to think about it. It would be provided for you automatically.’
Tawny Owl stepped into the den. He could not resist participating any longer. ‘I think our friend Badger has spent a little too much time amongst domestic creatures like cats,’ he said drily. ‘He’s beginning to talk like one of them.’
‘I can’t believe it’s our Badger talking,’ Vixen said. ‘Whatever has happened to him?’
‘Oh, why can’t you understand?’ Badger wailed. ‘I’m thinking of your good. Look at you – you’re half-starved. A few more weeks and there may not be any trace left of the animals of Farthing Wood. Is that what you want?’
‘Badger, your wits have become softened by your dependence on human aid,’ Tawny Owl told him. ‘I believe you’ve forgotten how to think for yourself. How could all the creatures from Farthing Wood be accommodated in your precious Warden’s house? Squirrels, rabbits, hares, foxes … he isn’t running a zoo.’
‘He would find a way, I’m sure,’ Badger replied vaguely. ‘He would have to, once he sees the pitiful state of you all. It’s his job, isn’t it?’
‘You’re not making sense, Badger. You seem to have forgotten all the original inhabitants of White Deer Park,’ Fox reminded him. ‘We’re just a small part of the fauna here. What if they all decided to come too?’
‘The whole idea is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,’ Tawny Owl said bluntly. ‘I’m sorry you were injured, Badger, but I’m more sorry you were ever taken into captivity. It seems to have turned your brain.’
‘I didn’t say anything about you coming,’ Badger snapped irritably. ‘You and Kestrel wouldn’t be welcome. Ginger Cat will vouch for that.’
Fox and Tawny Owl exchanged glances. It really did seem as if Badger had undergone a change of character. Vixen tried to smooth things over. ‘You’ll feel differently when you’ve got used to your old life again, Badger,’ she said soothingly. ‘I can see you’re finding it difficult to pick up the threads again, and that’s understandable. We’ll win through yet, if we all pull together. Think what you Farthing Wood animals have survived before. If any creatures can see it through, you can.’
Badger was furious at the rejection of his idea. He rounded on his old friends angrily. ‘You don’t understand,’ he fumed. ‘I don’t want my old life anymore. I didn’t have to come back, but I did – for you. If you won’t join me, I’ll go back alone.’
‘Back to your new friend the cat, no doubt,’ Tawny Owl said. ‘He’s really got to work on you, hasn’t he?’
‘The Warden is my friend, too,’ Badger barked.
‘Well, it’s quite obviously a clear case of preference,’ Tawny Owl told him. ‘You must go where your inclinations direct you.’
‘Sssh, Owl,’ Fox warned him. ‘This is getting out of hand.’ He turned to Badger. ‘My dear friend, you can’t mean what you say. We’ve been inseparable. You can’t turn your back on us now?’
‘You turned your back on me,’ Badger insisted with a glare. ‘My suggestion was made in good faith. I can’t force you to come. It’s your choice. As far as I’m concerned, I have no intention of starving to death. If you all want to die together, I must leave you to it.’ With that he turned and left the earth.
His three prior companions were stunned. None of them ventured a word. Fox went to the exit and peered out at the retreating figure. He wanted to call out, to bring him back, but he could think of nothing more to say. A cold shiver ran along his body. It had begun to snow again.
In the morning Mole arrived at the foxes’ earth in a very piteous state. He had remained in the set where Badger had left him, hoping to see him again. But after the talk with Fox, Vixen and Tawny Owl, Badger had returned to his set in an unpleasant mood and had been very unkind to Mole.
‘He told me I was a confounded nuisance and a sniveller, and that I must leave him in peace or suffer the consequences,’ he sobbed to Fox.
Vixen intervened. ‘You must accept that Badger’s simply not himself at the moment, Mole,’ she counselled. ‘None of us understands exactly what’s happened. But if he’s still our Badger, sooner or later his real feelings will show through. I know they will.’
‘Oh, do you think so, Vixen?’ Mole wept. ‘Oh, I hope so, I hope so ….’
‘Has Badger gone back?’ Fox asked Mole.
‘Gone back where?’ queried Mole who, of course, was unaware of the scene of the previous night.
Fox was obliged to explain. ‘He wants to go back to the Warden. He can’t face his old life any more.’ He described the meeting with Badger in his earth.
‘What ever can we do?’ Mole shrilled. ‘We can’t just let him go.’
‘Perhaps it’s the best thing for us to do, at present,’ Vixen said. ‘Then he can get this new way of life out of his system. If I know Badger, very soon he will begin to feel very guilty indeed, and then he’ll come to his senses.’
‘I think we should inform everyone of this business,’ said Fox, ‘and the best way to do it is for us all to meet – everyone – in Badger’s empty set. I’ll get Tawny Owl and Kestrel to round all the animals up. It’s too cold to meet in the Hollow.’
‘When do we meet?’ Mole wanted to know.
‘This very day,’ said Fox. ‘You go to the set now, Mole. I’ll contact Kestrel. Vixen, will you speak to Owl? There must be no delay.’
While preparations were being made, Badger was well on his way across the Park to his destination. Already a slight sense of shame hung over him as he turned his back on the Farthing Wood animals’ home area. But he also felt resentment of his treatment by Fox and Tawny Owl, and looked forward to Ginger Cat’s commiserations.
He had not bothered to hunt for any food, because he knew the Warden could be relied on to look after his stomach. He saw Kestrel flying over the Park and hoped he would not notice him. In the case of Kestrel this was a vain hope, for the hawk did not miss much that moved on the ground. Badger watched him swoop down.
‘Well, what do you want?’ Badger grunted ungraciously. ‘I suppose you’ve come to insult me as well?’
‘Not at all, not at all,’ Kestrel declared indignantly. ‘Fox has sent me to round up all our friends. I’m still looking for Weasel.’
‘What for? A meeting?’ Badger asked uninterestedly.
‘Yes. No need to guess what it’s about.’
‘Me, I suppose? Well, I’m not surprised. But listen, Kestrel, tell Fox from me not to interfere. I can live where I choose. You must know as well as I do they’ll all be dead inside a month the way things are going.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Kestrel replied quickly. ‘I hunt outside the Park every day and bring back what I can for them. And I know Whistler does too. Of course, at night Tawny Owl does what he can. We haven’t forgotten the Oath.’
Badger looked away, a little shamefaced, at this pointed rejoinder. But he would not turn back. ‘I wish you all well,’ he said, ‘but when the solution to your problems was offered it was refused. I can’t be blamed.’
Kestrel directed one of his piercing glares at Badger and flew away resignedly. But later that day, he and Badger were due to me
et again in very different circumstances.
Ginger Cat was sitting by the Warden’s fence, blinking dozily in a few brief moments of sunlight that had managed to penetrate the clouds. Badger called him as he saw him. He expected the cat to come towards him, but he did not move. He called again. ‘Hallo – it’s me – Badger!’
Ginger Cat looked at him enigmatically. ‘So I see,’ he said coolly.
Badger stopped in his tracks, completely taken aback by this most unexpected lack of enthusiasm. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘I thought you would be pleased to see me.’
‘I’m surprised to see you again at all so soon,’ murmured Ginger Cat, yawning widely.
‘But I’ve come back,’ Badger explained. ‘You know – for good.’
The cat looked at him long and steadily. ‘What do you mean – for good?’
‘I’ve made my decision, and I’m going to live with you.’
‘What are you talking about? You live underground, you told me.’
‘No, no, not any more. I’m finished with all that. I don’t want that sort of existence. I’ve left my old friends because they wouldn’t come with me.’
‘Of course they wouldn’t,’ Ginger Cat said. ‘I never expected them to. I thought all those pie-in-the-sky ideas of yours would be forgotten once you’d got back to your real home.’
These last words really jarred on Badger’s sensibility. ‘But I have a new home now … or I thought I had,’ he faltered. ‘Don’t you remember, we talked about the Warden looking after Fox and Mole and everyone?’
‘Indeed I do,’ the cat answered. ‘But I would have been astonished in the extreme if your wild friends chose of their own accord to leave their homes. Would you have come here if you hadn’t been brought?’
‘Er – no, I suppose not,’ Badger admitted. ‘But that doesn’t matter. I’ve chosen this way of life.’
‘How convenient for you,’ Ginger Cat observed bitingly.
‘Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ the bewildered Badger cried. ‘I thought we were friends.’