The Farthing Wood Collection 1 Read online

  Badger shook his head. ‘I couldn’t possibly leave them in ignorance for a matter of weeks,’ he persisted doggedly. ‘You don’t seem to understand. That oath we swore back in Farthing Wood – it hasn’t lapsed. My friends won’t just accept that I’ve vanished away. They will be risking their necks to find me.’

  ‘Humph!’ the cat snorted irritably. ‘You seem to have a very high opinion of yourself.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd,’ retorted Badger. ‘Oh, you can say what you like, but I’ve got to get word to them. If you won’t go I mean what I say. I shall go myself even if it means crawling all the way.’

  The cat realized he was in a corner. He could not possibly allow the crippled Badger to throw his life away, for that was what it would mean. So he had to relent.

  ‘Very well, you’ve convinced me,’ he said with reluctance. ‘I’ll start tomorrow if it isn’t snowing. You’d better describe your friends to me in detail, so that I can recognize them.’

  ‘I shall never forget this, Ginger Cat,’ Badger said warmly. ‘And, believe me, neither will the other animals. You’ve just made yourself a host of new friends.’

  ‘Well, Badger’ – the cat smiled – ‘you’re a very persuasive fellow.’

  ‘You are now party to the Oath that binds all the creatures of Farthing Wood, Vixen and Whistler,’ Badger reminded him. ‘That means, if ever you yourself are in danger or difficulties – well, I think you understand me?’

  ‘We understand each other,’ said Ginger Cat.

  No snow was falling in the morning and two very different animals, who were destined to meet that very day, were preparing to set out from opposite ends of the Park on behalf of Badger.

  From the Warden’s cottage Ginger Cat, having bade farewell to his new friend, was emerging. He jumped over the fence and looked with foreboding at the great white expanse before him over which he would have to travel. His first faltering steps found the snow surface reasonably firm, and his courage rose slightly. But he knew it was a long way in difficult conditions to Badger’s companions.

  Meanwhile in Badger’s own set, Mole had determined to begin his search. He had formed the idea that Badger had somehow got lost or injured underground as he was not to be seen anywhere on the surface. So he had decided that, as he, Mole, was quite the kingpin among subterranean travellers, it should be he who must search this new area. He began by investigating all of Badger’s tunnels in case he had had an accident while digging close to home. Of course he found no sign of any mishap. His next task was to surface and look for any other holes in the neighbourhood where Badger might have entered. This labour of love was as doomed to failure as it was devoted. But Mole kept trying, his stout little heart allowing him to emerge undismayed at every fresh disappointment. Each time he plunged down into the barren, frozen ground he thought that perhaps this time he was going to rescue his poor friend, and it was this idea which made his persevere.

  Ginger Cat continued on his way, his silent footsteps taking him slowly, but steadily, towards his goal. He was beginning to feel very chilled and longed for the bright fireside of the cottage, where he basked content in the company of his human companion. As the morning wore on he got colder and colder and regretted his foolhardy mission. After all, what was an injured badger to him? For all the fine words about this wonderful Oath of theirs, he was an outsider, an individual. He was no member of a party. Why should he concern himself with whether Fox or Mole or Weasel or any of the rest of Badger’s precious friends should lose their lives looking for him? They were all total strangers to Ginger Cat. Whatever he might have boasted to Badger, he was not a wild creature like they were, having to make shift through the seasons as best they could, come sun, wind, rain, snow and ice. He had an alternative – the alternative of keeping warm and comfortable all day if he felt like it; of sleeping by a blazing fire with a full stomach, ignorant of the raging elements of Nature. It had been his pride alone that had sent him on this absurd journey. Oh, how cold he felt!

  All the time the cat was cursing his own misfortune, he was nearing Badger’s home area. He passed by the Hollow without knowing its significance and then, suddenly, his senses were alert again as at last he saw movement ahead. He increased his speed and found a small black animal with a long snout crawling out of a hole. It was, of course, Mole.

  Mole saw a large unknown animal approaching him and instantly ducked back underground.

  ‘Don’t go!’ called Ginger Cat down the hole. ‘You may be who I’m looking for. I have news of Badger.’

  Mole reappeared at once. ‘Badger? Where is he? Is he all right? Who are you?’

  ‘He was injured,’ Ginger Cat said. ‘He’s been rescued by the human you call the Naturalist, who is caring for him. Don’t worry, he will soon be well.’

  Mole did a little jig. ‘Thank heaven he’s still alive,’ he said joyfully. ‘But tell me who you are?’

  Ginger Cat explained. Then, ‘You must be Mole?’ he enquired. ‘Badger told me you lived underground.’

  Mole confessed. ‘We’ve all been so worried,’ he said. ‘No sign of him for three days. But you are our good friend. You’ve been very brave.’

  ‘Badger told me about your long journey here from your old home,’ said Ginger Cat.

  ‘Will you come and meet the others?’ Mole said enthusiastically. ‘They’ll be so grateful for your news.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I must decline. I want to be back before it gets dark, and it’s a long way.’

  ‘Of course. Tell me, when does Badger think he can come back to us?’

  ‘Oh, Badger would come now if he could,’ Ginger Cat said with a smile. ‘But he would be very wise, in my opinion, if he waits for the man to decide. Then he will be sure to be fully well again.’

  Mole noticed this tribute to humankind, and realized the cat stood in a different relationship. ‘Tell him we are all well,’ Mole said. ‘At least, tell him we are managing, and that we are missing him terribly.’

  ‘I will, certainly. I hope I may see you again some time,’ said Ginger Cat politely.

  ‘Thank you again from all of Farthing Wood,’ Mole answered importantly. ‘There will always be a greeting for you here.’

  Ginger Cat turned to make his way back. Mole watched him go. As the representative of the Farthing Wood community, he wondered if he had handled the meeting correctly. With a start, he remembered he had not offered the cat any refreshment. The animal had made a long journey, and now had the same distance to retrace. There were an abundance of worms in his larder. He called out.

  The cat heard the noise and looked round. He could not make out Mole’s words for he was a small creature and did not have a strong voice. Mole called again, but Ginger Cat still failed to understand and started to run back.

  At that moment Kestrel, who had been patrolling the Park all day from the air for signs of Badger, spotted the two animals on the ground. He saw a large cat running towards his friend Mole, and naturally assumed it was an attack. Wheeling quickly, he dived earthwards and struck Ginger Cat like an arrow, his talons digging deep into the creature’s flesh.

  The cat howled and lashed out at the bird, but Kestrel was already ascending again for another plunge.

  ‘Stop, Kestrel, stop!’ called Mole frantically. ‘He’s a friend!’ But the hawk was too high to hear and was preparing to launch another strike. ‘Quickly, into the hole,’ Mole said desperately as the cat was instinctively flattening its body against the ground. Ginger Cat heard, but it was too late to move. Down swooped Kestrel again and Mole hurled himself against the ginger body, so that the hawk hesitated and lost the impetus of the descent. This time he heard Mole’s pleas, ‘No, no! Keep away, Kestrel! He’s a friend – a friend!’

  Kestrel landed and looked at Mole questioningly with his piercing eyes. Ginger Cat arched his wounded back and hissed aggressively.

  ‘He came with news of Badger,’ Mole explained lamely. ‘All the way from the Naturalist’s house. He wasn’t poun
cing on me.’ He described the news the cat had brought.

  Kestrel apologised inadequately for his actions, and told Mole what he had surmised from the air. He and Mole looked at Ginger Cat’s back. The blood was flowing freely from the two large lacerations, dyeing the ginger fur and making it sticky.

  ‘You and your confounded Oath,’ muttered Ginger Cat weakly.

  ‘We can’t stay here,’ said Mole. ‘Kestrel, will you fetch Fox? I don’t know what to do.’

  Fox was not long in arriving on the scene, accompanied by Vixen. Without much difficulty, they persuaded Ginger Cat to go to shelter in their earth. He was too feeble now to argue. As they made their way along, Mole acquainted Fox with Badger’s plight and of the cat’s journey to see them.

  ‘What a reward for such a good deed,’ said Fox bitterly.

  ‘I acted with the best intentions,’ Kestrel hastened to assure them. ‘I thought only of Mole. How could I have known?’

  ‘No-one’s blaming you,’ Fox replied. ‘It’s just a very unfortunate incident.’

  Once inside the earth, Vixen took it upon herself to lick the wounds on the cat’s back and to clean his fur. ‘They are nasty cuts,’ she observed, ‘but they aren’t bleeding any more. I hope you will share our meal later? When it is dark Fox and I will go out to see what we can find.’

  Ginger Cat expressed his thanks and, himself convinced that his feebleness was more due to excessive tiredness than his wounds, fell gratefully asleep.

  Mole stayed with him when the foxes went off on their foray and, before they returned, Ginger Cat awoke with a start in even pitcher blackness than before. ‘It’s all right,’ said Mole. ‘You’re not alone.’ The cat was amused at his tiny companion’s effort at reassurance. He could have killed Mole with one paw, but of course had no desire to do so.

  ‘You needn’t stay, Mole,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’m a lot better for that nap. I’ll be quite happy to wait on my own for my promised supper.’

  ‘Just as you like,’ said Mole readily. ‘I’m as hungry as can be myself. I think I’ll pay a visit to my own food store.’ They exchanged farewells and Mole departed.

  As soon as Ginger Cat was sure Mole had got right away, he himself stood up, stretched carefully, and shook his coat daintily. Despite himself, he winced at the pain that throbbed in his back. But he was ready to leave. He had no intention of waiting for Fox and Vixen to return. He would go hungry, but at least before morning he would be back in the warmth and cosiness of the cottage.

  He emerged into the starlight, shivering in the bitter cold, but was thankful to see no further snow had fallen. So his mission had been accomplished and he was gratified to have met Mole, Fox and Vixen. But he cherished a hope for revenge on the other of Badger’s friends he had encountered. Was he, a cat, to allow himself to be bested by a bird – his natural prey? Hawk or no hawk, should the opportunity ever arise Kestrel would find he had made an error of judgement if he believed he could inflict any harm on an equally cunning hunter without redress.

  It was almost dawn when Ginger Cat limped back through his special flap into the Warden’s lodge. Never before in his life had he felt so weary. He knew Badger would be agog for his news, but he was too tired to face his questions. So he lay down on the hall carpet where he was and dropped into an immediate sleep.

  It was the noise of the Warden’s rising that woke him. He stood up stiffly to greet the man’s arrival. The Warden, of course, was overjoyed to see him but very concerned to find the wounds inflicted by Kestrel. These were attended to in no time and a large saucer of warm milk proffered while a well-deserved meal was prepared.

  Badger could barely restrain his impatience for the man to leave the kitchen, but as soon as he did he started eagerly to demand to know all that had happened.

  ‘I met your friends Mole and Fox and Vixen,’ said Ginger Cat. ‘They were relieved to hear of your safety. I also met Kestrel who is responsible for this,’ he added in a hard voice, indicating his newly-bandaged back, and he went on to describe the incident.

  ‘Oh dear, I really am so sorry,’ Badger was most contrite. ‘I can see exactly how it happened. He won’t be able to forgive himself for injuring you.’

  ‘Really?’ hissed the cat sarcastically. ‘I think he recovered his presence of mind fairly swiftly. It may be news to you that there is no love lost between cats and birds.’

  ‘But I hope you won’t hold this mistake against Kestrel,’ Badger said worriedly.

  Ginger Cat did not reply. Badger looked hard at him, but his bland expression was totally inscrutable.

  ‘I will tell you one thing,’ said the cat. ‘You have lost your battle to persuade me to live wild. At the risk of appearing soft – and I don’t care a jot – I would never leave this comfortable life to join you out there. I have had my taste now. I’ve experienced the worst weather I’ve known. I’ve been into one of your underground homes and pronounce it to be the most cheerless place I’ve ever seen or, rather, felt. I’ve seen the reality of what lack of food and poor shelter can do to an animal, and for that I had to look no further than the skinny, underfed bodies of your fox friends. But I’m going to turn the tables on you now. I say to you, Badger, that if you give up your cosy new home here to return to those appalling conditions amongst your friends you are absolutely mad.’

  ‘But this isn’t a home,’ Badger pointed out. ‘I’m merely being tended while I’m hurt. Once I’m on my feet again, whether I wish it or not, I shall be removed to the Park.’

  Ginger Cat shrugged. ‘You’ve seen how I behave and remarked on it,’ he said. ‘I’m quite sure a little feigned affection from you for your human benefactor would be very well received. That seems to be the only reward he expects for doing almost everything for us.’

  ‘No, no,’ Badger shook his head, smiling. ‘I haven’t the necessary technique. It’s inbred in you cats to make yourself ingratiating. It’s natural to you.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure it wasn’t always so,’ Ginger Cat responded. ‘It must have begun for a definite purpose. Why don’t you decide to become the first domesticated badger?’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t be appropriate,’ Badger replied. ‘I’m too old to change my ways now. And, besides, I’m used to living underground, and tunnelling, and sleeping on beds of leaves and grass and moss and so on – not curled up in a basket like a lap dog.’

  ‘Well, at least stay until the warmer weather,’ Ginger Cat wheedled. He had become genuinely fond of Badger and was sincere in wishing him to be comfortable.

  ‘Well, well,’ nodded Badger, ‘we’ll see. But I hope you won’t forget all about me if I do go. For my part, I can never repay your kindness in making that journey. And then you come back hurt! It’s most distressing.’

  ‘You may rest assured I should keep in touch,’ declared Ginger Cat. ‘But, tell me, is your home any better appointed than Fox’s?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Badger laughed. ‘He and Vixen live very simply. But you went underground! I’m most impressed.’ He chuckled as he thought of it.

  Ginger Cat almost laughed. ‘It’s a topsy-turvy world,’ he said. ‘We’ll have you curled up in front of the fire next.’

  The days passed and Badger’s leg grew stronger. He was able to limp a little way around the kitchen to begin with, and then the cat introduced him to the main room of the cottage and he practised walking backwards and forwards from one room to the other. After about a fortnight in the Warden’s home Badger had become quite accustomed to his new life. Well-fed and well cared for, he looked sleeker and fitter than at any time since leaving Farthing Wood. He looked a new animal, and he began to dread the appearance of his longsuffering friends when he should return to them. He knew they would look haggard by comparison, and he felt they might look at him accusingly, envying his new-found health.

  But he had to acknowledge that that was not all he was dubious about. There had been an element of truth in Ginger Cat’s words. Perhaps he had grown too used to comfort now. He cert
ainly did not relish the prospect of scraping a living again in the freezing desolation of the Park. He was worse equipped to do so now than before his accident. To adjust now to searching once more for his food, to learn again to live on less than he needed to eat and to adapt to those wicked temperatures from which there was no relief, was indeed a daunting thought.

  He felt sure that the Warden would not simply turf him out into the cold once he was walking normally again, if there were still no sign of improvement in the weather. The change would be too sudden. So the temptation to stay on where he was, was constantly with him. Yet he knew he would feel guilty if he did stay unnecessarily long. How could he rest content in such luxury while all the time his old companions continued to suffer the worst sort of discomfort? But what if they were to join him? Was it possible?

  Day after day the same thoughts went through his mind until the time finally arrived when he knew that his injured leg was completely well again. The strapping and bandages had been removed a week before, at the same time as those on Ginger Cat’s back. Now he could shuffle around quite normally once more at his old pace. Now he must decide what he should do.

  When he next saw Ginger Cat he told him he was completely recovered. The cat looked at him long and straight. ‘Well?’ he asked at length. ‘What are your plans?’

  Badger mentioned his idea of his friends joining them under the care of the Warden. ‘Would the man take them in? Would he be able to, would he want to?’ he kept asking.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Ginger Cat. ‘I don’t know if he would have room for all. I am sure he would do his best for the animals who seemed most in need of help. But will they wish to come here?’

  ‘Now it’s my turn to say I don’t know,’ Badger confessed. ‘But I could try persuading them.’

  ‘You would have to exclude the birds,’ Ginger Cat said pointedly.