The Farthing Wood Collection 1

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The Farthing Wood Collection 1 Page 17

by Colin Dann


  ‘Oh yes,’ the cat shrugged. ‘But we were forced into each other’s company, after all. One makes the most of a situation.’

  ‘Well – er – aren’t you going to invite me in?’ Badger asked hesitantly.

  ‘You’re too bulky to go through my cat flap,’ Ginger Cat pointed out. ‘You’ll have to wait for the man to find you. But I don’t think you’ll get the reaction you want from him. He looked after you until you were well again and, in his view, you should now be living in your natural state.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Badger answered hotly, but he was beginning to feel he had made a fool of himself. He went and sat by the front door and, as luck would have it, the Warden appeared soon after. A cry of amazement escaped him as he saw his old charge looking hopefully up at him. He bent down, examined the healed leg, patted Badger, and looked at him in a puzzled way for a moment. Then he seemed to think of something and turned back inside. Badger immediately tried to follow him, but the Warden kindly, but firmly, pushed him back and shut the door. Badger was heart-broken.

  ‘You see,’ Ginger Cat’s soft voice purred at him. ‘He doesn’t want you any more. Oh, he’ll probably bring you a bowl of food in a minute or two. He imagines you’ve come for that. But your home is not his cottage any more.’

  The realization of his stupidity flashed into Badger’s mind in a blinding flood of light. What a miscalculation he had made! He was not a domestic animal. How could he have thought he understood human ways? Both the cat and the human were on another plane of existence, in a world he could never comprehend. He had humiliated himself, and in the process he had lost the respect of the cat and, what was worse – far worse! – spurned his real friends.

  The bowl of food predicted by Ginger Cat was brought out, and a dish of warm milk with it. More to save the Warden a disappointment than because of any feeling of appetite, Badger ate and drank. Then, with a wry look at the cat, he turned back without a further word – back to his waiting set.

  A short distance from the cottage he looked behind him. The Warden was not to be seen, but Ginger Cat was still sitting, watching his retreat. Badger heard a flutter of wings above and Kestrel alighted beside him.

  ‘Keep going, Badger,’ he told him. ‘You’re going in the right direction this time.’

  Badger knew the hawk had guessed what had happened and smiled sadly at him. ‘Yes, Kestrel,’ he whispered, ‘I have indeed been a foolish creature.’

  Behind them, unknown to them, Ginger Cat had spotted his enemy. Now, belly flat to the icy ground, he was creeping stealthily forward on his noiseless feet. With a tremendous spurt, he leapt on the unsuspecting hawk, teeth and claws as sharp as razors finding their mark. But Kestrel was no sparrow or blackbird. He was a hunter, a killer himself, and his powerful wings flailed, beating against his assailant, while his lethal beak darted in all directions in an attempt to strike.

  Badger looked round in horror. The bird, taken unawares, was struggling desperately against the attack. Badger was hopelessly torn between his affection for the cat, albeit recently somewhat battered, and his loyalty to an old friend. He could see Kestrel’s struggles weakening and, in a trice, it was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. The Oath!

  Badger rushed into the fray. Bringing all his considerable weight and power into the attack he fell on Ginger Cat, lunging with bared teeth at his throat. The cat let out a scream and spat at him in fury. But the grip was loosened and Kestrel was able to free himself, flying up into the air instantly.

  Now the fight was left to the two animals, and soon Badger’s superior strength began to tell. He knew the cat was at his mercy and that one snap of his jaws could kill him. His instinct told him to do it, but he held back. Although he had made the cat party to the Oath, the animal had forfeited his right to protection by attacking another of its adherents. But Badger recalled the good turn Ginger Cat had done him and now he must repay it. He stepped away, his sides heaving, and, like an arrow, the cat sped away, back to safety.

  The significance of Badger’s rescue was not lost on Kestrel. ‘Welcome back to the fold,’ he screeched from the air.

  ‘It’s quite safe for you now,’ Badger called back. ‘Come down and let me see if you’re injured.’

  Kestrel did so and Badger noticed the marks of the cat’s claws. He began to lick at his friend’s body.

  ‘Most obliged,’ said the hawk. ‘Thanks for your help. For just a moment I wondered if you were going to.’

  ‘I know,’ said Badger. ‘Oh, what a supreme idiot I’ve been. I’ve entered unknown waters and found myself out of my depth. It’s so absurd. I’d rather die with you all than live without you.’

  ‘We won’t die,’ Kestrel insisted. ‘It’s going to be tough, but we are tough creatures.’

  ‘They’re not deep scratches,’ Badger was saying. ‘They’ll soon heal.’

  ‘Er – Badger – why did you let the cat go?’

  Badger explained.

  ‘I thought as much. That means I still have him after my blood.’

  ‘Just stay in the air in this vicinity,’ Badger told him. ‘But the cat will know why I didn’t kill him and that my debt is repaid. He has a fair nature. I don’t think he will be out for revenge any more.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ said Kestrel. ‘Well, if you hurry, you will surprise the rest of them holding forth about you in your set.’

  ‘I’ll see you there,’ Badger replied.

  The meeting of the animals of Farthing Wood to discuss Badger’s strange behaviour and what should be done about it had not long begun when Kestrel arrived. He saw Whistler standing at the entrance to the set.

  ‘Are you on guard?’ he asked the heron.

  ‘No. My legs are too long for me to go in there.’ He pointed with his long bill to the entrance tunnel.

  ‘In that case,’ said Kestrel, ‘you’ll be the first to know that Badger is himself again.’ He went on to describe his rescue from Ginger Cat.

  ‘That will delight everyone,’ Whistler said. ‘You go in and tell them before Tawny Owl runs him down too much.’ He winked elaborately.

  Kestrel walked into the set. As he joined the meeting, it was evident that Tawny Owl was replying to a suggestion from someone that they should bring Badger back by force.

  ‘What for?’ he hooted. ‘Leave him to his own devices. He turned his back on us. Why should we bother any longer?’

  ‘You’re beginning to talk just like Adder,’ said Mole. ‘It would be wrong of us to desert him.’

  ‘That’s just what he’s done to us,’ snorted Owl.

  ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ Mole replied, rather weakly.

  ‘You can all save your breath,’ Kestrel informed them. ‘Badger’s on his way back.’

  They looked at him dumbfounded. Then he explained again about Badger’s change of heart and his rescue.

  ‘You see, Mole,’ Vixen said kindly, ‘I knew his real character would win through.’

  ‘Oh, I never lost faith in him,’ Mole declared proudly, while Tawny Owl looked rather abashed. ‘Dear Badger! So he came to help you, Kestrel?’

  ‘He saved my life,’ Kestrel said honestly. ‘No question about it.’

  ‘I’m very happy,’ said Fox. ‘I feel that this heralds an improvement in our affairs. Well, Kestrel, should we stay for him?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ answered Kestrel emphatically. ‘Now we’re all together. He’s depending on seeing us.’

  ‘So be it,’ said Fox and the animals settled down to wait patiently.

  Late in the afternoon Badger greeted Whistler outside his home. He paused at the set entrance nervously, unsure of his other friends’ reception.

  ‘Oh, you’re a hero again,’ Whistler reassured him. ‘Kestrel has told them all about it.’

  Badger smiled and, taking a deep breath, went to meet his fate.

  He need not have worried. Most of the animals had not seen him since his accident and received him like a long-lost fr
iend. Mole was in raptures, Fox and Vixen relieved, and even Tawny Owl gave him a gruff, ‘Glad to see you, Badger.’

  A tacit understanding seemed to exist on both sides not to mention Badger’s recent aberration, and all was forgotten. But Badger gloomily noticed the depletion in numbers of the little band that had set out the previous spring to look for their new home. Leaving aside the absence of the hibernating hedgehogs, Toad and Adder, there were gaps in the ranks of the squirrels and the rabbits, while Vole was accompanied only by his own mate and Fieldmouse by just two others of his family. Of the rest, lean bodies and hungry eyes told their tale. Only Mole, apart from himself, seemed unchanged.

  Fox followed Badger’s gaze. ‘The winter has not left us unscathed,’ he summarised.

  ‘No.’ Badger shook his head sadly. ‘But perhaps we should turn the meeting towards a more positive course. Unscathed we are not, but we should now plan how we can emerge from the season undefeated.’

  ‘For many of us that call is too late,’ Vole said bitterly.

  ‘Then let us resolve to lose no more,’ Badger responded.

  ‘There’s not a lot that can be done,’ Fox said with untypical pessimism. The winter had taken its toll of spirit, too.

  ‘Fox has done everything possible for him to do,’ Hare added loyally. ‘But none of us can control the weather conditions. When the entire Park lies buried under two feet of snow, it needs more than animal ingenuity to cope with the situation.’

  ‘Let me tell you,’ said Badger quietly, ‘I think we really do need help from another source.’

  ‘Are you thinking again along the same lines we all think you are thinking?’ asked Weasel cryptically.

  ‘No.’ Badger replied at once. ‘Not the Warden. But I am thinking about human help.’ He looked round at his companions whose faces had, for the most part, dropped.

  ‘Only it would be help,’ he intoned slowly to emphasize his words, ‘that the humans wouldn’t know they were giving.’

  ‘Whatever can you mean, Badger?’ Rabbit asked.

  ‘Well, listen. Now it’s well-known that humans waste as much of their food as they eat. Why, then, shouldn’t we make use of what they don’t want?’

  ‘I could never bring myself to resort to scavenging,’ Tawny Owl said, rustling his wings importantly.

  ‘Don’t be pompous, Owl,’ Badger said. ‘When the other choice is starvation you should be ready to resort to anything.’

  ‘Badger’s quite right,’ agreed Fox. ‘We must consider any plan that will keep us alive. Please explain further, Badger.’

  ‘You’ll remember that Toad told us the story of his travels. Well, on the other side of the Park, not far from the boundary fence, there are human habitations and gardens. It was from one of those very gardens that he actually began his long journey back to Farthing Wood. And somewhere in those gardens, you can count on it, we will come across some of those tall things they put their unwanted food in.’

  ‘You’ve certainly hit on something,’ Fox conceded. ‘But it will be a great way, and few of us are now strong enough to travel great distances. For the smaller animals it is completely out of the question.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Badger. ‘I’m the fittest of all at present. And the birds can go with me. Then they can carry back anything of use I find. Of course, if anyone else feels able to join me, I’d be delighted.’

  ‘I shall accompany you, naturally,’ said Fox.

  Badger looked at his wasted form with misgiving. He knew Fox felt that in any such venture it was his duty to attend. ‘Well, Fox, you know,’ Badger said awkwardly, ‘are you sure that –’

  ‘That I’m strong enough?’ Fox anticipated him. ‘Of course I am. I should never forgive myself if I stayed behind.’

  ‘There is never any doubt about your being brave enough anyway,’ Vixen said lovingly and nuzzled him.

  So it was arranged that Fox, Badger, Tawny Owl, Kestrel and Whistler would form the expedition. It would be essential to travel in the dark, so they decided they must go at the very first opportunity, which was that very night.

  ‘How I wish Toad was around to direct us,’ Fox said.

  ‘Couldn’t we dig him up?’ Mole suggested. ‘I bet I could reach him.’

  Badger laughed. ‘Impossible, I’m afraid, Mole,’ he told him. ‘You’d get no sense out of him. He’s in his winter sleep and nothing will wake him up except a rise in temperature. In fact, to expose him suddenly to these temperatures would probably kill him.’

  ‘Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Mole.

  ‘I remember he mentioned a ditch on the other side of the fence,’ Fox mused. ‘If we can find that, and then that first road he travelled down from his captor’s garden, we should make it all right.’

  ‘Leave it to me’, offered Tawny Owl. ‘I’ll find you your ditch – and the road.’

  ‘How long will it take you to cross the Park?’ asked Fieldmouse. ‘It must be miles.’

  ‘It would be no problem at all if it weren’t for the fact that we are so hampered by snow,’ said Fox. ‘But we must reach the houses while it’s still dark. It should be dusk now. I suggest we start straight away.’

  The others agreed and, without further ado, Fox and Badger with Tawny Owl and Kestrel, made their way out of the chamber to assorted cries of ‘Good luck!’ Outside the set they acquainted Whistler with their idea, and he was delighted to be of use.

  Fox and Badger went, shoulder to shoulder, across the snowy waste in the direction of the Reserve’s far fence. Kestrel and Whistler fluttered slowly in the unaccustomed darkness for short distances while they waited for the two animals to catch them up. Tawny Owl the night bird flew on ahead on silent wings to locate the ditch that was their marker.

  ‘What do you expect to find?’ Fox asked Badger.

  Badger found it strange to be in the role of leader, which at present he clearly was. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Meat and vegetable scraps – there could be all sorts of things,’ he answered vaguely. Then he wished he had not spoken, for he saw the eager look in the famished Fox’s eyes and his mouth begin to water.

  ‘It really has hit you hard, hasn’t it, old friend?’ he whispered to him. For a time Fox did not answer, and Badger wondered if he had heard. Then Fox spoke.

  ‘It’s been the hardest trial I’ve ever faced,’ he said wearily. ‘Harder than anything we faced on our journey here, including the Hunt.’

  ‘It is so sad that, after the triumph of overcoming every hazard en route to reach our new home, so many of our friends have perished before they really had a chance to enjoy their new life.’

  ‘It is sad,’ agreed Fox, ‘but there is no doubt that old age has played its part. The life span of a mouse is very short.’

  ‘But the rabbits? The squirrels?’

  ‘I know, I know. It’s not the start to our new life I had envisaged,’ Fox muttered. ‘But then, how many would have survived staying behind in Farthing Wood? If we get through the rest of the winter without losing any more of our numbers, there will be a breeding stock, at any rate, of all the animals to ensure a permanent representation of the Farthing Wood party in the Park.’

  ‘Except in one or two cases,’ Badger said, smiling sadly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Badger,’ Fox said awkwardly. ‘I really put my foot in it. I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I know what you meant. And it seems our priority must be to save Vole and Fieldmouse at all costs.’

  ‘That is so,’ said Fox. ‘And that’s where the difficulty lies. The White Deer herd have, on occasion, brought some of their hay for our vegetarians to eat. The problem is, the mice don’t really like stalks. It’s the seeds they want. And berries and insects. Of course, they’re virtually unobtainable.’

  ‘Well,’ said Badger, ‘perhaps we’ll find something for them.’

  When they next caught up with the birds, Tawny Owl was waiting as well. He told them he had found the ditch and the road down which they must
go.

  ‘Did you find the houses, too?’ asked Badger.

  ‘Er – yes,’ he replied uncertainly.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Fox.

  ‘Well, we shall all have to be cautious,’ he explained. ‘It seems there are others around on the same errand.’

  ‘Foxes?’

  ‘Yes, a pair.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Along the road.’

  ‘Well, we aren’t the only creatures in the Park who are suffering. We sometimes tend to forget that.’

  ‘How do we know they’re from the Park?’ Kestrel mentioned.

  ‘True,’ admitted Fox. ‘But it’s most likely.’

  Before they reached the boundary of the Park, he asked to have a brief rest. Badger’s concerned expression was unconcealed. ‘I’ll be all right,’ Fox assured them all. ‘I’ve lost a little of my strength, I’m afraid.’

  Eventually they reached the fence and found a spot where previous animals had scooped away the ground underneath in order to come and go as they pleased. Badger and Fox scrambled underneath and crossed the ditch. Tawny Owl led them to the road.

  The surface was like glass where motor traffic had beaten down the falls of snow into a tight mass. But it was quiet now and empty. The animals padded slowly along it until the first of the human dwellings was reached.

  ‘Wait here,’ said Tawny Owl. ‘I’ll investigate.’ Badger and Fox hid themselves in the darkest spot against the garden wall, while Whistler and Kestrel perched high up on a chimney pot.

  ‘This one’s no good,’ Tawny Owl later informed them. ‘The wall is too high for you and so are the gates.’ They moved on to the next house to find the same problem. Fox looked at Badger significantly.

  ‘Owl!’ Badger called in a low voice. ‘See if you can find the other foxes again. Perhaps they know something we don’t.’

  Tawny Owl returned with astonishing news. He had located the strange foxes in the grounds of a large house some distance away from the others. They had simply jumped the comparatively low fence and were nosing around a number of sheds and hutches. From sounds he had heard, Owl had discovered that one of these was a chicken coop, and this was obviously the foxes’ target.

 

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