The Siege of White Deer Park (13 page)

‘Perhaps,’ Fox said morosely. ‘Anyway, that’s our only hope now.’

The larger animals were gradually drifting away. Most of them were relieved that they had not actually had to prove themselves in a confrontation. As it was, they were not unduly pessimistic about the situation. They felt that, now the deer herd was in the open again, the rest of them would only be secondary targets. In the end only the Farthing Wood contingent remained.

‘Did you find another entrance to the lair?’ Toad asked Fox lamely.

‘No. But there could be other bolt-holes all over the park, and what difference would it make?’ Fox sounded bitter.

‘We – we seemed to be hypnotized,’ stammered Mossy. He was so purblind that he had not seen the Cat
himself, but he understood the reaction.

‘Exactly,’ Badger corroborated. ‘I found myself marvelling at the creature. I’ve lived a long time and seen all sorts of things, but never anything quite like that.’

The vixens were eager to get back to their dens and their cubs. It was only Fox the elder’s call for solidarity that had induced them to leave them. So the numbers of animals dwindled bit by bit until only a handful were left, staring disconsolately across the water to where the Cat had vanished from sight.

‘We don’t seem to be achieving much by staying here,’ Adder drawled, ‘so I think I’ll just slip away.’

None of the others attempted to stop him. Mossy was heartily glad to see the back of the snake. He was not sure that Adder was party to the conspiracy about ‘Mole’. Toad alone called a farewell.

‘I don’t expect Tawny Owl will have achieved much either,’ Weasel remarked. But his observation was not quite accurate.

There was a stretch of open land on the far side of the stream and Tawny Owl was able to keep the Cat in view quite well, though he could not match its pace. It moved very swiftly, with a bounding movement of its long legs. Owl realized it was heading directly for the Park’s boundary but, surprisingly, on the side where it bordered a lane leading to human habitations. Eventually the Cat was lost among the first belt of trees. Tawny Owl flew on faithfully in its wake.

A ditch ran along the edge of the Park, just beyond the perimeter fence. Hazel bushes and young trees hung over it from the Park side. At one point under the fence animals had dug the soil away and there was a gap. The Cat knew about this, and it knew about the ditch. It had crossed a large chunk of the Reserve in broad daylight
and now arrived at the boundary. It flattened its back and scrambled under the fence, then jumped down into the ditch. This channel was for drainage but it had not been cleared since the previous summer. Leaves and twigs had accumulated in it from the overhanging boughs, so much of it was reasonably dry. The Cat squatted in the bottom. Sunlight pierced the greenery irregularly, dappling the ground all about. The Cat’s markings blended in perfectly with its surroundings. From the road it was hidden. No human stroller passing by would have noticed, nor suspected, the existence of a large beast skulking in the ditch. The Cat made sure its head was well out of sight. It had discovered that this spot was a good place to lie in wait for any prey that might wander in the trees. It had caught squirrels and rabbits here and once, in the evening, a deer had stepped almost close enough for a pounce. The Cat could see animals walking along the road too. It was not averse to the possibility of leaping out at an unaccompanied dog.

Tawny Owl reached this edge of the Reserve a minute or so after the Cat had hidden itself. He flew along the Park’s perimeter, always searching for a sign of that tawny coat. He actually perched in a branch that overlooked the ditch, but the Cat’s splendid camouflage fooled him for a while. Then the slightest of movements caught his roving eye. His head swivelled round and he stared long and hard. All was still. Was he imagining things? No, there it was again. Just a twitch of the back fur. A midge or spider had caused a moment’s irritation. Now Owl could make out the long powerful body. What was it doing in the ditch? It certainly could not know it was being observed. Owl decided to move even closer.

He looked round and selected a stout sycamore sapling that grew right on the edge of the drainage channel. He fluttered over to it and alighted. It was not
the best of landings. The sapling bent under his weight and he grappled for a firmer hold. The sycamore’s leaves shook noticeably. The Cat turned sharply and looked directly at Tawny Owl. Its lips curled back in a soundless snarl, annoyed that it had been detected. This time Owl maintained his position, aware that he was out of reach, and stared back full in the Beast’s face. The Cat’s eyes did not waver and in the end it was Tawny Owl who looked away. But there was a magnetism about the Cat and it drew the bird’s head round again. The Beast opened its mouth.

‘I am of interest to you?’ Its voice was strange, like a combination of a roar and a howl. It was a very strong voice and quite an alarming one. But although it spoke loudly and slowly, Tawny Owl had difficulty in understanding. This was partly due to his fright at the sound and partly due to the unexpectedness of it. He had never heard an animal cry of this kind before. He slipped a little on the sapling but quickly strengthened his grip.

‘I – I’m afraid I didn’t – er – follow that,’ he fluted nervously.

In a grating sort of growl the Cat said, ‘You have pursued me. You have much interest in me.’

Tawny Owl strained his ears and was able to catch the gist of the remarks.

‘I’m certainly interested,’ he replied. ‘You’re of interest to all of us.’ He was very aware of his role as the mouthpiece of White Deer Park. ‘Yes, I followed you. We need to know where you are.’

The Cat appeared to have no difficulty in understanding Owl and it snarled softly as he finished speaking. It did not like the idea of its movements being noted. ‘You do not need to know,’ it growled threateningly. ‘Owls do not tempt my appetite. But you should
not mistake. Trees are my playthings. I can stalk you.’

Tawny Owl marked the warning. Yet he realized the creature assumed he was speaking only for his own kind.

‘The inhabitants of this Park,’ he went on, ‘are terrified of you. You arrived from we know not where with great suddenness – a frightening alien. Our humble little world has been rent apart. If we don’t know where you are or when you might pounce, how can the animals guard their own safety?’

It was a foolish thing to say to a hunter and Tawny Owl soon perceived this when he saw a wicked feline grin spread slowly across the Cat’s face.

‘The secret of my success,’ it acknowledged with a harsh sort of purr.

‘No doubt,’ remarked Tawny Owl. He had lost his unease and was beginning to enjoy himself. He anticipated what a celebrity he was to become – the first to hold a conversation with the great hunter! ‘Your stealth,’ he continued, ‘is legendary amongst us. We respect your expertise and the way you even manage to evade the humans. But –’

The Cat interrupted him with a mocking roar. ‘Humans!’ it scoffed, growling. ‘What do they know of my kind; our ancient lineage? They know nothing of our existence. We have roamed the land for longer than they. Never have they captured us, nor even seen enough to know what we are. We are survivors of the Old Animal Lore. How can they hope to comprehend? They think they are Masters. We know
no
Masters.’

Tawny Owl was rather taken aback by this mysterious speech, and did not himself understand much of it. In his familiar limited world Man was always evident. How could humans not know about the Cat and the rest of its
kind? He was so puzzled he had to ask about it.

‘Do you mean you have never been detected by Man at all?’ he blurted out incredulously.

‘Never,’ roared the Cat with a sort of defiance. ‘And so it will be. There are more creatures prowling their domains than
he
knows of.’

Tawny Owl was silent as he tried to digest the facts, which seemed to him almost unbelievable. He had to remind himself that none of the Park’s animal population had ever seen such a Beast before. But humans were quite different – they were so clever, so wise, so all-knowing . . . He tried to bring himself back to the subject in hand, but first he could not resist risking a gibe.

‘I shouldn’t roar quite so much,’ he hooted with mock innocence, ‘if you want to retain your history of secrecy.’

The Beast gave him such a withering look of contempt that Tawny Owl at once regretted the remark. He said hastily, ‘Will you stay here long? Er – couldn’t you perhaps hunt somewhere else?’

‘Where I hunt is no concern of an owl,’ the Cat rasped.

‘But – but – you see,’ Tawny Owl stuttered, ‘we’re all together in this. Er – I mean, we’re all afraid and we feel while you remain in the Reserve we – er – we remain at risk. Er – all of us.’

The Cat flattened itself in the ditch bottom as a car approached along the road. When this had passed and its noise entirely disappeared, the animal said gruffly, ‘I have told you. I do not prey on owls.’ Then it added menacingly, ‘Unless they try to meddle . . .’

Tawny Owl knew it was hopeless. It was no use his endeavouring to explain that he was speaking for the whole community. The Cat would never understand
they had a common interest in ridding their home of its threat. Nor could it ever appreciate how Owl and his closest friends were bound by the Farthing Wood Oath to help and act for each other. It belonged to a separate sort of existence altogether.

The Cat half pulled itself out of the ditch. Tawny Owl flew quickly to a higher point.

‘You have been lucky,’ the Cat told him. ‘I made no special effort to avoid you. But I give you my word. You will go now and, after your departure, you will not see me again; not you nor any creature that ranges this area.
Though I shall still be here
. If I am wrong about this you shall have your wish. I shall leave for fresh terrain and never return, if any one of you, beast or bird, sets eyes on me and tells me so. Now go.’

With dumb obedience Tawny Owl took a last look at the strange beast and then flew away. He did not stop until he had arrived at one of his home perches. He pondered over the Cat’s peculiar offer. Was it a challenge? Did it intend some amusement for itself, by giving such an exhibition of cunning and stealth to them all that it would exceed even that which had impressed them already? There was no telling what was in its mind. But Tawny Owl believed its word. To his way of thinking, they all had an incentive now. It only needed one sighting, by perhaps the lowliest of the Park’s population, for the Cat’s sway to end. So let the whole of White deer Park become like a thousand eyes looking inward, in a perpetual examination of every leaf, every twig, every blade of grass. Soon, surely, in this way the state of siege would be lifted.

Tawny Owl hastened to the side of the stream. When he had left it earlier, most of the population of the Reserve had been gathered there. Now it was deserted. Every bird, every beast, every reptile and amphibian had disappeared, just as if the assemblage had never existed. They had retreated like a defeated army. Tawny Owl saw it as the greatest demonstration of the Cat’s power. It had won a complete victory without needing to deliver a blow.

Upstream a lone heron was fishing. Whistler had returned to his normal activities, almost as if he had
never been interrupted. As Owl spotted him the tall bird bent his long neck and then stabbed down with his beak into the water. When he raised it again it contained a wriggling silver fish which was swallowed at a gulp. The entire sequence lasted but a few seconds.

‘
He’s
busy,’ said Tawny Owl to himself. He was full of his conversation with the Cat and wanted to tell everyone. But he was also very weary and decided he would only do his tale full justice by relating it when he was more alert. He must get across to his friends the significance of the strange pledge the Cat had made. So he avoided the heron and returned to his roost. Daylight, he reflected, was definitely not the time when owls were at their best.

Dusk passed Tawny Owl by. The evening wore on and still he slept. So the warning that might have been carried sooner to the deer herd to be extra vigilant was too late to save another fawn. While Tawny Owl slumbered on, the Cat had ample time to select its victim, trail it and strike, first at the mother, then at her baby. Neither had an inkling that the predator was around. The hind was left where it had been killed. The young and tender fawn was carried off, limp and lifeless. The Cat was hidden again long before the deaths were discovered. But not in the ditch. That was abandoned. The owl would be the only creature to see the Beast there.

During the night Tawny Owl awoke. He rustled his wings sleepily without at first remembering any more than that he was in his own comfortable roost in the hollow tree. Then he remembered he was hungry. He was surprised to find he had left a couple of mice uneaten. He soon remedied that.

Whilst he was eating he thought he heard a voice calling him from somewhere in the tree. Owl was still
dozy and could not at first make out where it was coming from. Then he saw Squirrel skipping down towards him from a high branch.

‘We’ve all been wondering if you found out anything,’ said the quicksilver creature, flicking his bushy tail restlessly.