The Siege of White Deer Park Read online

  ‘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 eatin
g 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.

  Now Tawny Owl recalled his message and tried to hoot through the middle of a mouthful, nearly choking himself in the process. He swallowed elaborately.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he spluttered. ‘Most urgent. Glad you came, Squirrel. I’ve spoken to the Cat. It made a kind of bargain.’

  Squirrel was showing his amazement by flicking his tail harder than ever. He sat on his hind legs one moment and then ran up a branch and back again the next moment, unable to keep still. ‘The Beast spoke?’ he chattered.

  ‘More of a roar, really. A horrible sound,’ Tawny Owl told him. ‘But come with me, Squirrel. I must tell Fox and the rest.’ He flew noiselessly away and Squirrel followed him, racing and leaping through the tree-tops.

  It was some time before Tawny Owl managed to bring together Fox, Vixen, Weasel and Badger. He recounted his story with the exaggerations and embellishments that, by now, were expected of him. But his message was clear.

  ‘We have a real chance this time,’ he asserted. ‘The whole Park was on watch before. But we must try harder this time. Our lives depend on it.’

  ‘I’ll talk to the Great Stag,’ said Fox at once. ‘The herd must be involved this time. They have to be especially wakeful. If the Beast wants a sort of contest of skills we’ll give it one. Our eyes against his stealth.’

  ‘That’s what it will mean,’ Tawny Owl averred.

  ‘You did well to follow him,’ Weasel congratulated the bird unexpectedly. ‘Toad got close, but you alone have conversed with the Cat.’

  Tawny Owl swelled visibly with pride. However there was no time for self-congratulation.

  ‘We have a cause again,’ Vixen remarked. ‘Our future safety depends on us now – not just on our little band, but on every other one of the Park’s inhabitants too. Even the smallest newt or fledgling has a stake in this, if it only needs one sighting for our home to return to its natural state.’

  ‘Proof of a sighting,’ Tawny Owl corrected her. ‘And I’m afraid, as far as I understand, newts are dumb.’

  ‘All right, Owl, I extended the list too far. But you told us – any creature, big or small, would serve the same purpose.’

  ‘As far as I’m concerned,’ said Fox, ‘if I thought I could bring about our salvation I’d stay awake day and night till I found the brute.’

  ‘And I too,’ Badger wheezed. ‘It would be one last useful achievement before I –’

  ‘Now, Badger,’ Weasel cut in. ‘Don’t start talking in that vein again. There’s no question of it being a last anything, we hope. Think of Mo – er – Mole.’

  ‘Oh yes. Poor Mole. How empty my tunnels would seem for him if I weren’t around.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Fox, ‘shall we begin? We have to pass the word again. If we thought we searched and watched hard before, now we have a real test before us. I shall go straight to the deer herd.’ He left and the group hurriedly broke up.

  On his way across the Reserve towards the open area where the bulk of the white deer herd was usually found, Fox fell in with Friendly. The younger animal confessed to his father that he had feelings of guilt about Husky’s death.

  ‘You weren’t entirely to blame,’ Fox told him. ‘It was a rash adventure, but the reasons for which it was undertaken are commendable.’

  ‘I feel I led him on – and the other youngsters,’ Friendly went on. ‘I shouldn’t have pressed them into it.’

  ‘I think none of us have really understood what we are up against,’ Fox remarked generously. ‘Now I think we’re closer to it, after what we all saw by the stream. What were my empty words worth, about protecting and avenging our own? Dreams, Friendly, no more. We’re out of our depth. I’ve felt myself to be weak and helpless as never before.’

  Friendly looked at his father – the greying coat, the stiffer gait, the duller eye. Age was the great enemy, he thought. But Fox knew what was in his mind and denied it.

  ‘Were I your age again,’ he said, ‘it would make no difference. I’d have no challenge to make to monsters.’

  ‘Let’s be thankful, then,’ said Friendly, ‘that we have some skills.’

  ‘Yes,’ conceded his father. ‘At least we have our eyes.’

  They went on together, feeling that they had helped to raise each other’s spirits.

  The Great White Stag saw them approaching, shoulder to shoulder, through the swift-growing grasses. He had the news of the killings ready for them.

  ‘I am indeed sorry,’ Fox responded afterwards. ‘You have lost quite a few of this season’s young?’

  ‘Too many,’ the Stag boomed in his deep voice. ‘Fox, we appeal to you. You have been our friend since you came to our home. We deer have lived here, mostly at peace, for generations. But we cannot sustain these losses indefinitely. How do we fight back?’

  ‘By the summer your antlers will have grown again,’ Fox said. ‘They are potent weapons. But it may not be necessary to wait for that. There is another weapon we all possess, Man and ourselves. Vision. And the hunter himself has told us how we can use it.’ He went on to explain the Beast’s pledge. ‘Watchfulness,’ he finished, ‘from dawn to dusk and through the night. That’s the only hope for any of us.’

  ‘We have watched,’ replied the leader of the herd. ‘And when we were enclosed, the men watched for us. But still it was of no use.’

  ‘We must have a chance,’ Fox declared, ‘and we must believe that we have it. The Cat is not invisible. We have to remember that.’

  ‘We shall try,’ the Stag said unhappily. ‘What else can we do?’ He began to walk away in his sedate manner. Then he turned back. ‘Last time it killed my favourite hind,’ he bemoaned. ‘She had borne many young.’ He looked away and murmured, ‘It has such contempt for us all.’

  His words were uncannily accurate. Even as they spoke, the Cat returned to drag away the hind’s carcass. It meant to ensure that its larder was well stocked.

  So word travelled round the Park again. Tawny Owl and Whistler spread it amongst the birds who were the best carriers of messages, and the beasts played their part too. Soon all were aware that they now had a real hope of banishing the threat from their lives by their own efforts.

  Meanwhile the Warden was taking stock too. The morning after the kill he went to take count of the deer herd as he did every morning. He was paricularly concerned about the survival of the young, and he quickly noticed another was missing. He knew the hinds too; each one that had given birth that season. So he realized the mother had been taken as well.

  The next day Vixen’s words were borne out. A party of men began a systematic search of White Deer Park. Some were on horseback, some on foot. Many were armed. Others had brought apparatus for capturing the Beast. The search lasted throughout the day. The whole of the Reserve was combed. No trace of the hunter was found.

  The other animals in the Park kept themselves out of sight, too, whilst the men roamed around. The more intelligent ones guessed what was going on, and hoped fervently that the Cat would be discovered and removed by human hand. But they heard no report of guns and the birds noted that the men went away empty-handed. Tawny Owl recalled the Cat’s words and was not surprised. However, the men had not finished. They were about to use new tactics.

  The day after the search they returned. Under the leadership of the Warden traps were laid at various points throughout the Reserve and baited with fresh raw meat. The Warden had taken the utmost care to ensure that these traps could only be sprung by a large and very powerful animal – the huge chunks of meat were set in such a way that no fox or smaller carnivore would have the strength to dislodge them. The men retired again and then the waiting began. The Warden reckoned that the hu
nter probably had sufficient food for itself for quite some time.

  The days went by. The Cat went nowhere near any of the traps. Each day the Warden went to inspect them, sometimes by himself, and sometimes with a helper. The meat was renewed at intervals. At night many of the smaller animals had investigated these unusual food sources. The foxes had been suspicious and only sniffed at them. Some of the smaller meat-eaters had tried to pull the lumps away, failed, and then contended themselves with nibbling at them where they were.

  After some time both the Warden and his charges began to think that the Beast had decided it had nothing to gain by staying around that part of the world any longer. For not only had the traps been avoided, but no further deer had been taken. Indeed no smaller prey had been attacked either.

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder about this “pledge” of the Cat’s,’ Weasel commented one day to Fox. ‘How do we know it isn’t a final trick on us – you know, to put us all on our guard for nothing, while he himself is as far away as – as –’

  ‘Farthing Wood?’ suggested Fox wryly.

  ‘Precisely!’

  ‘Yes, I’ve thought of that too,’ Fox admitted. ‘But don’t tell Owl. He’ll think you’re doubting his word.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Weasel. ‘But what would that matter by comparison with the benefit to us all? To be sure that White Deer Park is ours again!’

  ‘“To be sure”,’ Fox echoed. ‘That’s the crux of it, Weasel. How can we ever be sure again?’

  Weasel looked crestfallen. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ he muttered. ‘I suppose it would be preferable for one of us to see the great hunter again.’

  But nobody did. And, understandably, the animals’ wariness began to slacken and their watchfulness to be relaxed. They no longer believed they were watching for any purpose. As for the Warden, he did not bother to replace the bait in his traps any more. Replenishing the meat was costly and it was all to no avail. Besides which, he had still a lingering doubt about the risks involved – perhaps one of the traps might catch an animal that actually had a perfect right to be in the Reserve. After a few more days and much cogitation, the Warden at last decided to remove the traps altogether. So the guard was down of animal and human alike. And that was exactly what the Cat had been waiting for.