The Siege of White Deer Park (10 page)

‘How shall we tell Whisper?’ murmured Rusty.

Only Pace, Friendly’s own son, forbore to comment. Yet his thoughts matched the others’.

‘Don’t you think I regret it now?’ Friendly said miserably. ‘But how could I have foreseen what has occurred? I did this from the best of motives. And – you didn’t have to accompany me; none of you.’

‘It’s true,’ said Pace. ‘We must be fair. And it’s too late to regret our actions.’

‘We have to think of finding help,’ Friendly said. ‘
I
don’t know where to turn. Perhaps my father –’

‘Your father,’ Ranger cut in, ‘would have had more sense at the outset!’ (Now he recalled Adder’s words.)

‘You’re right,’ Friendly said unhappily. ‘He gave his advice, at the beginning. “Don’t meddle,” he said.’

‘Grandfather is very wise,’ said Pace. ‘He may think of something that can be done.’

They carried on their way in silence. In their minds was the picture of Husky clenched in the fierce jaws of the Beast – the powerful beast they had tried to tamper with! For Friendly the image held the most horror, for he did feel responsible despite what he had said.

Ranger and Trip left the group as they came near the earth of the Farthing Wood Fox. They were of a different parentage and had not the same allegiance.

Fox and Vixen were absent. Friendly gave a yelp of frustration. Just when he needed them most! Of course, they were hunting. However his call of distress brought another animal’s answer. Friendly knew it was Badger’s cry. He dearly loved the old creature but – ironically – he was the one friend who was really too old and feeble now to be of any assistance.

‘What is it, Friendly?’ Badger asked after greeting him and the two youngsters.

The fox explained with a woeful expression. Badger was aghast.

‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh my word!’ he muttered continually. He swung his striped head to and fro. ‘Oh, Friendly!’ he said. ‘Oh dear, oh dear!’ He was trying to think how he could help. ‘Poor Husky. Has he a mate?’

‘No,’ Rusty answered.

‘Well, that’s a blessing,’ Badger murmured. ‘But Whisper will be so upset! Vixens are all the same when their cubs are in danger.’ A though struck him. ‘She mustn’t be told – not yet,’ he said hurriedly. ‘She might do something foolish, and we’ve had enough foolishness already.’

Friendly took the implied reproof without demur.

Badger was beginning to think of an idea. It depended on what the Cat would do with its victim. If it intended killing Husky, then it was already too late for any animal to act. But if it merely meant to keep him captive, there perhaps was a way out. Badger made up his mind. He knew he could not tell the foxes his plan. They would be sure to prevent it. So he gave no sign.

‘I think you must wait and speak to your father,’ he told Friendly. ‘No doubt you intended to do that anyway. You must all stay here. I’ll see if I can find him and then I’ll send him back to you. Now, you mustn’t stray – do you promise?’

‘We promise,’ said Pace and Rusty. Friendly was too dispirited even to answer.

Badger shambled away, his head full of what he must do. It was some time before the realization struck him that he did not know where he was going. He did not know where Husky was!

‘Oh, you old fool,’ he castigated himself. ‘You forgot to
find out where it all happened.’ Now what could he do? He could not traverse the entire Park in search of the elusive hunter. And he could not go back to Friendly with the all-important question. He would be suspicious at once and then his plan would come to nothing. He had not meant really to look for Fox. He only wanted Fox’s three relatives to remain where they were, out of the way. He knew that Fox and Vixen would return eventually of their own accord. But now he could think of nothing better to do than to consult his old friend himself. So he shuffled about, going to all the places he thought most likely to find him, and calling at intervals in his gruff, wheezy voice. He even went up to the stream and along the bank for a stretch in case Fox was after a meal of water-rat. But he saw nobody, not even Whistler, who was comfortably at roost in a tall tree at that time.

Badger, thoroughly disheartened, made his slow way back again. He hoped to find all the foxes together now. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts on the matter that he did not see a small creature move quickly out of his path. But he heard it squeak.

‘Mole?’ he mumbled automatically.

‘No. Er – yes. Here I am, Badger,’ was the answer. It was Mossy.

‘Oh Mole, what trouble,’ Badger said. ‘Things have taken a turn for the worse. Husky has been captured by that awful Cat.’

Mossy did not know who Husky was, but he remembered Weasel’s advice and made a pretence. ‘Poor creature,’ he commented, wondering for what sort of creature he was showing sympathy.

‘Yes,’ said Badger. ‘They shouldn’t have gone near it. And he’s only a youngster.’

‘I know,’ fibbed Mossy.

‘If this had to happen to one of us, why couldn’t it have been me – or – or – somebody like me,’ said Badger. ‘My life’s as good as over anyway.’

‘Don’t say that, Badger,’ shrilled Mossy, more genuinely. ‘Your friends would be heartbroken.’

‘Well, thank you, dear Mole,’ Badger said warmly. ‘But – oh! I must leave you now. There’s no time to waste.’

Mossy watched Badger lumber away and he felt a surge of affection for the old animal. ‘He was the truest of friends to my father, I know,’ he murmured to himself. ‘Perhaps I can help repay the debt.’

As soon as he was within sight of Fox and Vixen’s earth once more, Badger noticed that they had come back. All five foxes were in conclave – Friendly, Pace and Rusty anxiously explaining what had happened. Badger paused awhile in order that the bad news would have been grasped, with all its implications, before he joined them. When he did do so, Vixen turned a miserably worried face in his direction. Fox was deep in his own thoughts. Only when Badger was amongst them did he see Tawny Owl looking on from a nearby perch. He wondered if Owl had had something to report too. Now he felt he must ask his question.

‘Where is Husky? Where did it take place?’

In a low voice Pace described the copse. Badger pumped him for more information. What quarter of the Park? Was it near the boundary fence?

‘Nowhere near that,’ Tawny Owl chimed in. ‘The Warden is in that area, guarding the deer. So the Beast is keeping well away. In any case, it would have no need to risk being shot.’

‘No. There’s other food,’ Badger agreed. Then he wished he had not. He had been thinking of rabbits and such like, but now he wondered about Husky.

‘Not only other food,’ Owl continued, ‘but its preferred food.’

Badger was puzzled. ‘Preferred food?’ he repeated.

‘Oh yes. Not all the deer have been penned, you know. I’ve seen two hinds wandering free, quite on their own. They must have wandered off and become separated. Probably old ones past breeding.’

Now Fox looked up. ‘You see, human ingenuity has failed too, Badger. What hope have
we
of ridding ourselves of this pest?’

‘Well, we can’t live life as if we’re under siege,’ Badger declared. ‘And first of all we must rescue Husky.’

‘Do tell us how you propose to do so,’ Tawny Owl begged. He was convinced Badger was becoming senile and he waited to hear a stream of nonsense.

‘I do have a plan,’ said Badger uncertainly. ‘But I – I – can’t tell you it.’

Tawny Owl made derisive noises. But Fox was interested.

‘Why can’t you tell us?’ he queried.

‘You wouldn’t approve,’ Badger explained.

‘He’s got some madcap notion of challenging the Beast to combat, I suppose,’ Owl remarked scornfully.

Badger remained silent. There was a grain of truth in what he had said but he had not quite hit the mark.

‘I hope that’s not –’ Fox began urgently.

‘No, no, don’t worry,’ Badger assured him. ‘I’m not quite the old idiot Owl takes me for.’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Owl remarked, a little embarrassed.

Badger now pretended to have taken great offence. It suited his plan. ‘And you’re so sharp, aren’t you, Owl?’ he growled. ‘You couldn’t even recognize the creature as being a big Cat!’ He made a great play of looking very hurt and indignant and turned his back on them all.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Fox said angrily to Tawny Owl. ‘Do you have to make even more trouble? As if we haven’t enough to contend with!’

‘Well – I – I – never intended . . .’ the bird spluttered.

When Badger was sure he was hidden by the darkness, he put on speed. He knew he had to act quickly, because he was sure Fox would eventually demand that Friendly lead him and Vixen to the scene of Husky’s capture. He could not simply do nothing. It was not in Fox’s nature. So, armed with only the scant descriptions Pace had given him, Badger trundled forward in search of the copse. His idea was a simple one – to offer himself in exchange for the release of Husky.

Fox had, indeed, accepted that there was no alternative but to go to help, and at length the four male foxes went on their way. Vixen left Tawny Owl for Badger’s set. She wanted to console him for the hurt she supposed he had taken. The set, of course, was empty. As Vixen emerged from Badger’s dark labyrinth she found Mossy apparently on his way there.

‘Is Badger there?’ he asked. He knew who Vixen was.

‘No, Oh – you must be –’

‘I’m to be known simply as “Mole”,’ he twittered informatively.

‘Of course.’

Mossy began to ask Vixen about Husky. He soon discovered he was another fox. Then he told her what Badger had said about his life being almost over, and how it would have been better if
he
had been the captured animal. Vixen went cold. She recalled Badger asking Pace for directions. Yes, there was no doubt of his intentions – it would be typical of him. She must stop him!

She raced away. Her first idea was to use Tawny Owl as her messenger. Wings were faster than legs. But Owl was nowhere to be seen now and she had to trust to her own speed. Vixen was no longer the swift-footed, lithe creature of her youth. She loped along for a while, then eased down to a trot. If she could catch up with the other four, one of the young foxes could be sent on to forestall Badger. But her breathing became laboured and soon she had to stop altogether, her sides heaving, to bring it under control.

Badger’s lead had been cut considerably by Friendly’s faster pace. But the old animal lumbered on persistently, full of dogged determination. He was not absolutely sure of his destination and, because of this, the foxes on their direct course arrived at the scene first. Friendly led them, with much trepidation, towards the tree where the killer had lurked. Husky’s body lay where it had fallen, all life crushed out of it. Friendly stared at it in horror and disbelief. The others surrounded him.

Fox looked at his dead grandson. He remembered, with a sharp pang, another occasion when he had found one of his own cubs in just such a state. The only difference this time was that the body was full grown. And there were no marks on it.

Pace and Rusty were looking fearfully up into the tree. No sound, no sign hinted at the presence of the hunter.
The Cat had done its work and had moved on – who knew where?

Vixen was next to arrive. Fox looked at his mate without speaking.

‘Are – are we too late?’ Vixen whispered. Then she saw the still form of Husky.

‘He never had a chance,’ Fox rasped. He was racked by helpless, impotent anger. ‘I will get even,’ he intoned in a growl to himself.

Vixen understood. She could find nothing to say. Her heart ached.

‘It was a desire to get even that began it all,’ Friendly muttered. ‘I didn’t think – oh how ignorant I was!’

‘Let’s get away from here,’ Rusty suggested. The sight of Husky’s body frightened him. He knew how easily it could have been himself lying there.

‘Yes – it’s a hateful place,’ said Fox.

‘We must wait for Badger,’ Vixen said hurriedly as they began to move.

They looked at her questioningly. ‘He – he thought he could help,’ she explained lamely. There was no need now to go into detail.

‘So that was why he wanted the directions,’ Pace remarked. ‘Dear old Badger – this is no quarrel of his.’

‘Of course it is,’ Fox told him surprisingly. ‘Any quarrel of mine has always been Badger’s too. He’ll soon tell you that.’

Badger came at last, grunting, and out of breath. He saw, in his turn, the young animal he had set out to save. ‘It really has gone too far now, hasn’t it?’ he muttered.

‘But what are we to do, Badger?’ Friendly wailed.

‘Wage a war,’ was the old animal’s reply. His voice suddenly seemed to have lost its wheeziness. It sounded
crisp, assertive and younger.

‘
I
tried,’ said the fox. ‘Look what I’ve achieved.’

‘You should not have acted alone,’ Badger admonished him. ‘There are those who are wiser and more experienced than yourself. They should have been consulted.’ He named no names.

The Farthing Wood Fox spoke. He was unaccustomed to finding himself put in the shade by Badger and he admired his resolution. ‘Well, old friend,’ he said, ‘this isn’t the first time we’ve faced danger. Where do we begin?’