The Animals of Farthing Wood Page 4

  At the Great Beech they found Fox and Weasel, Toad and the lizards, and the rabbits. Kestrel was perched on the lowest bough, staring piercingly ahead like a sentinel. Pheasant and his mate had arrived at the meeting-place at dusk, and were dozing at the foot of the tree.

  The elected leaders of the lizards and rabbits, in both cases the oldest and most experienced members of their communities, took up their positions alongside Fox and Weasel as Badger and Tawny Owl arrived.

  ‘It’s a fine night,’ Fox remarked. ‘But the moonlight is a little too bright for my liking.’

  ‘Should we postpone it?’ asked Badger.

  ‘No. I don’t think that would be a good idea. The humans are too close now for safety.’

  Badger nodded. ‘It was a frightening day, today,’ he agreed.

  ‘I had to run for it,’ squeaked Weasel. ‘They came right on top of my burrow.’

  The other animals were not long in arriving, but when Fox took the count he found Mole was missing.

  ‘Confound it! Where is he?’ demanded Fox with annoyance. ‘We’ve no time to lose.’

  ‘It’s just as well, really,’ remarked Adder spitefully. ‘He was going to slow us all up as it was.’

  Badger rounded on him angrily. ‘He’d be better company than you, at any rate,’ he snapped. ‘We’re not leaving without Mole. How could we leave him alone?’

  Harsh words never bothered Adder. ‘There’s no need to get your fur in a bristle,’ he said quietly. ‘I was merely thinking of the safety of the others.’

  ‘We’ll give him until the next stroke of the clock,’ Fox said. ‘After that . . . well, we can’t wait for ever, Badger, old fellow.’

  ‘Give me a little time,’ said Badger. ‘I think I know where to find him.’

  ‘All right. But do be quick!’ warned Fox.

  Badger trotted quickly off in the direction of his set, looking all round as he went for any sign of his friend.

  He reached his old home again, and entered it, taking the passage leading to the Assembly Chamber. Once in there he went up to the hole through which Mole had emerged on the previous day, when he had tunnelled his way to the meeting.

  ‘Mole!’ called Badger loudly down the tunnel. ‘Are you there?’

  No answer.

  ‘Mole, wake up and come out quickly! It’s Badger! We’re all waiting for you!’

  Still no sound.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Badger. ‘Where can he be?’ He decided to make one final attempt. Pushing his striped head right inside the tunnel, he took a deep breath and yelled, ‘M-O-O-O-L-E’ as loudly as he could manage. It made him cough a bit, and he realized again how thirsty he was. Then he thought he heard a faint scuffling noise.

  ‘H-A-L-L-O-O-O!’ he called again.

  ‘Is . . . is that you, Badger?’ came a timid voice.

  ‘Yes,’ said Badger. ‘For goodness sake come out, Mole. What are you doing in there?’

  ‘I’m . . . I’m not coming,’ said Mole faintly.

  ‘Not coming? Whatever do you mean? Of course you’re coming. Now, hurry up! The others are all waiting.’

  ‘No,’ said Mole. ‘It’s no good, Badger. It’s kind of you to come and look for me . . .’ His voice broke off in a sob. ‘But . . . but . . . I’d be no good to you. I’m . . . too . . . slow.’

  ‘Oh, Mole! What nonsense,’ said Badger. ‘We can’t bear to leave you here. How could we? Please come out.’

  ‘They . . . said . . . I was . . . too slow,’ Mole said jerkily, in between his sobs.

  ‘Never mind what anybody said,’ Badger replied consolingly. ‘We’re all going together. Nobody is to be left behind. Think how sad the others would be if you didn’t come. They’d never forgive themselves.’

  There were more scuffling noises.

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ Badger went on, convinced Mole was now making his way down the passage. ‘You can climb up on to my back, and I’ll carry you. I won’t notice a thing.’

  ‘Will you, Badger? Will you really?’ Mole’s voice sounded closer now; and presently Badger could see him, moving along the passage using a rowing motion of his front paws to pull himself through the dry soil.

  Badger withdrew his head, and presented his back to the hole. ‘Jump on!’ he said kindly. Once he felt Mole’s claws holding firmly on to his fur, he quickly made for the exit.

  ‘I’m sorry to be so silly,’ said Mole. ‘You are . . . so kind to me, Badger.’

  ‘Say no more about it,’ answered Badger, as they left the set. He trotted hurriedly back towards the Great Beech. ‘We’ll just be in time,’ he muttered to himself.

  The village clock chimed the half-hour as they joined the waiting animals. Fox wagged his tail as he saw Mole on Badger’s back, but kindly passed no remark.

  ‘Right, Kestrel, when you’re ready,’ he called. ‘The party’s complete.’

  Without answering, the small hawk leapt from his perch, and swooped gracefully over the hedgerow. Tawny Owl flew at his side in case of any difficulty in the dark, and the pheasants behind them. The land animals set off in a bunch, Fox leading with Weasel, and Toad hopping alongside. Behind them were the rabbits, hares and hedgehogs; and the smaller creatures – voles, fieldmice, lizards and squirrels, followed close behind them. Badger and Mole brought up the rear, with Adder slithering as swiftly as he was able next to them.

  Through gaps in the hedgerow the column of animals passed, all moving as quickly as they could. They stepped on to the vast expanse of dry, hard, pitted earth that had once been woodland, and where now the silent bulldozers stood like monsters regathering their strength for the next day’s plunder.

  Fox kept his eyes on Tawny Owl, who was flapping and gliding slowly along, about twelve feet above the ground. Ahead of them, all the animals could see scattered lights from houses on the fringe of the estate, where the occupants were still wakeful.

  Fox saw Tawny Owl suddenly wheel and come flapping towards him. ‘Kestrel says the street lights are out,’ he called softly. ‘We’re in luck!’ He flew off again, without waiting for an answer.

  The animals watched the remaining house lights go out, one by one, as they drew nearer. Occasionally they turned their heads towards their old home, but Farthing Wood had become just a dark mass, which grew smaller and smaller against the starlit sky.

  6

  The long drink

  At Number 25, Magnolia Avenue, the owner of the swimming-pool, Mr Burton, was standing by his bedroom window. Although he had felt very tired and had gone to bed at his usual hour of eleven o’clock, the bright moonlight shining into the room had prevented him from sleeping. So he had wearily slipped out of bed, taking care not to disturb his wife, and had gone downstairs to pour himself a consoling drink. He was gratefully sipping this now, as he stood looking out at his garden.

  Mr Burton was proud of his garden. He had nurtured it carefully over four years from a patch of bare earth and weeds to something of colour and beauty. He looked down at his green, sloping lawn and his well-tended flower beds, and at his hedge of mixed shrubs. At the end of the garden, reached by a few steps, lay his new swimming-pool. Blue-painted, with imitation marble surrounds, it had been filled for only a couple of weeks, and although nobody had swum in it yet, Mr Burton felt sure it was the envy of his neighbours. Now he looked down with considerable satisfaction at the gleaming water which reflected the moonlight.

  Mr Burton’s eyes started to grow heavy, with tiredness. Suddenly he saw a variety of shapes moving round the sides of the pool; and ripples appeared on the previously unruffled surface of the water. He wondered if he had perhaps been a little too generous when pouring out his nightcap, and he rubbed his eyes. Sure enough, there was some movement down there. Could it be cats?

  He was just considering whether to go and investigate when his wife called impatiently to him to stop sleepwalking. Feeling a little guilty at being discovered with a glass in his hand, Mr Burton contritely returned to bed. So the animals, quite unaw
are that their presence had been detected, remained undisturbed.

  Following Fox silently through a gap in the hedge, the little band of animals had arrived at the pool’s edge only to discover that the water was too far down for the smaller of them to reach. No matter how far over the sides they leant, it was impossible.

  ‘Dear, dear,’ said Badger. ‘Now what are we to do?’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ said Fox, quite unruffled. ‘Let the larger animals drink first, and then they can help the smaller.’

  It turned out that only Fox and Badger were able to drink from the pool unassisted, and even they found it an awkward task. All the other animals watched them with concern, except Adder who persuaded Weasel to hold his tail in his teeth, while he slithered the front half of his body directly into the water.

  The marble surrounds were shiny, and Fox’s and Badger’s claws slipped on the surface, putting them in grave danger of tumbling in as they leant over the edge thirstily lapping their first water for three days. However, no such accident occurred, and it was some time before their tremendous thirst was quenched. Finally, they raised themselves and sat back on their heels, licking their chops.

  ‘I never knew water could taste so fine,’ said Fox.

  ‘I feel fit for anything now,’ remarked Badger.

  ‘Don’t forget us,’ said Mole, who had dismounted from Badger’s back on their arrival.

  ‘Of course we won’t,’ answered Fox. ‘Now, over there are some steps leading down into the pool. The water just covers the top of the second one, so if I lie down on that, you smaller animals can climb on to my back and drink from there.’ Without more ado, he jumped down and lay flat on the second step, with his head on his paws. The distance down to the first step was still too great for the short legs of the voles, the fieldmice and the lizards, and so Badger got on to that and lay down too. The smallest animals were then able to jump on to Badger’s back, and from there on to Fox.

  ‘Cling on tight,’ Fox called. ‘We don’t want any accidents.’

  The voles were the first to drink, and three or four of them were able to jump down at a time. They were followed by the lizards and fieldmice, who all drank their fill without any mishap.

  Indeed, Hare’s youngsters, the hedgehogs, squirrels and Mole, had all satisfied their thirst, when Toad, who had been casting longing glances at the water all through the proceedings, could withstand the temptation no longer. He took a flying leap and landed with a resounding plop about a yard out. This action, on its own, would have been no disaster, for after all, Toad was more at home in the water than on land, and he began to swim delightedly up and down. But the young rabbits, who had been getting more and more excited as the time approached for their turn to drink, took Toad’s leap as a signal to themselves, and all together, in a bunch, they jumped over the edge, landing on top of Fox and knocking him into the water.

  The mother rabbits, seeing their babies in the pool, followed them without a thought, and Weasel, who all this time had been on the other side holding Adder’s tail in his teeth, opened his mouth to cry out a warning; whereupon Adder shot like a dropped anchor straight down to the bottom.

  In a trice the swimming-pool was a mêlée of bobbing heads and thrashing feet, while the animals remaining on the edge ran hither and thither in anguish.

  At this moment Kestrel, who had remained patiently hovering over the pool since his arrival, spotted the figure at the bedroom window of the house. ‘We’re being watched!’ he called down. This increased the pandemonium in the water, as each animal struggled to reach the steps out of the pool. None of them was in any danger of drowning, as, in common with almost every land creature, they were all able to swim in their own particular way. The problem was, how to get out of the water?

  Adder had swiftly surfaced after his surprise dip, but was only able to undulate up and down the pool quite helplessly. Fox managed to clamber up on to his step, where he vigorously shook his coat all over Badger.

  Kestrel swooped down and perched on the hand-rail by the steps. ‘All clear again now,’ he said reassuringly.

  Badger and Fox took up their old positions again, and one by one the rabbits were able to scramble out on to Fox’s back.

  It only remained now for the father rabbits, Hare and his mate, and Weasel to drink, and then their journey could continue. While this was accomplished, Adder continued to swim up and down in a tremendous bad humour, vilifying Weasel with the most insulting names he could remember.

  ‘Don’t worry, Adder,’ said Fox. ‘We’ll get you out, once the water’s had a cooling effect on your temper!’

  The birds, who did not drink much anyway, were able to wet their throats with the water that had been splashed up on to the marble when the rabbits had dived in together.

  ‘Anyone else?’ asked Badger. There was no reply. He and Fox then climbed back up, leaving only Toad and Adder in the pool.

  Fox began to run up and down the garden, examining the flower-beds. Finally, he seemed to find what he wanted. After tugging vigorously at a clump of delphiniums, he ran back to his friends carrying a long, thin cane in his teeth.

  ‘What’s that for, Fox?’ asked Mole.

  ‘It’s for Adder, of course,’ Fox answered, dropping the cane at the side of the pool. ‘Now then, Adder!’ he called. ‘I’m going to hold this stick by one end in my teeth. When I lower it over the side, you grip the other end in your jaws, and I’ll pull you out.’

  Adder agreed to this proposal, rather sullenly, and the cane was pushed into the water. ‘Come on, Adder!’ called all the other animals, and the snake turned in the water and swam towards the stick with his jaws open so wide that they all thought he intended to swallow it. His razor-sharp fangs sank into the end of the stick with a violence that nearly pulled it into the pool, with Fox clinging to the end.

  ‘I think he was imagining the stick to be my tail,’ Weasel whispered to Badger.

  Fox slowly backed away from the pool, drawing Adder out of the water. Once on dry land again, Adder relaxed his grip on the stick, and slithered irritably up to the apprehensive Weasel.

  Fox turned his attention to the pool again. ‘Toad, old chap, I think you’ve had long enough in there now,’ he remonstrated. (Toad was still splashing around merrily.) 'We’ve got to get on, and we need you,’ Fox reminded him.

  ‘I’m coming,’ cried Toad, cheerfully blowing bubbles in the water. ‘Just drop the stick over again, and I’ll hang on.’

  Fox lowered the cane into the water again, and Toad, clinging tightly to the end with his special grasping pads, was hauled clear.

  ‘No time to lose,’ said Fox. ‘Is everyone ready?’

  ‘We make for the trunk road now,’ said Toad. ‘At this hour it should be almost deserted. But we must hurry.’

  ‘We’ll meet you there,’ said Tawny Owl, as he and Kestrel led the other birds away.

  ‘Lead on, Toad,’ said Fox. ‘On to White Deer Park!’

  The next morning Mr Burton looked with dismay at the grimy water in his previously gleaming pool. There were grubby footprints all over the imitation marble, and his clump of delphiniums was sagging. He knew that his beloved garden had indeed received visitors the previous night. Looking at the assorted footprints, he realized they had been left by a number of wild creatures, but whence they had come, or whither they were heading, he, like all the other human inhabitants of the estate, never knew.

  7

  Two narrow escapes

  Swiftly out of the garden and into the unlit road went the group of animals, Badger once more carrying Mole. Toad led the way, hopping more than crawling, and leaving Fox and the larger animals to adjust themselves to a slow pace so that they would all keep together.

  The animals chose the parts of the roads where it seemed to be darkest, and their luck held as Toad proudly led them through the maze of turnings towards the trunk road. They heard nothing and saw nothing to alarm them. There were no late cars driving home, and no dogs or cats in e
vidence.

  As time wore on, the danger of discovery gradually lessened. The animals, all of whom had maintained complete silence since they left the garden, felt themselves to be safer and began to whisper to each other.

  ‘Tawny Owl will be getting impatient,’ Badger remarked. ‘He must have been waiting a good hour and more. I’ve just heard the church clock chime three.’

  ‘It’s . . . not . . . much further,’ panted Toad, who was beginning to tire. ‘Once we get round the next corner . . .’

  ‘Please, Badger, shall I walk for a bit?’ asked Mole. ‘I’m sure I’m too heavy for you.’

  ‘Nonsense. Can’t feel a thing,’ Badger reassured him. ‘Once we’ve got the trunk road behind us, we’ll be able to rest.’

  The animals’ pace had slackened, owing to Toad’s increasing tiredness. He was no longer able to hop, but could only manage a weary crawl. ‘Can’t you hurry up a bit at the front?’ Adder hissed from his position as rearguard. ‘At this rate, dawn will break and we’ll still be on the estate.’

  ‘Toad’s doing his best,’ said Hare. ‘We’ve come a long way. The small animals are all very tired.’

  ‘I’m not exactly feeling as fresh as a daisy myself,’ replied Adder, ‘but we’ve slowed almost to a halt.’

  Fox, at the front with Toad, turned his head. ‘Do stop complaining, Adder,’ he said. ‘Remember the rule we made about our travelling pace.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Toad said wearily. ‘Of course . . . I didn’t . . . do such long stages as . . . this when I . . . was alone.’

  ‘I do feel guilty, riding like this,’ wailed Mole. ‘Everybody else is tired out, and I’m not helping at all. Oh dear!’

  ‘You’re helping more by staying up there than you would by trying to keep up with us walking,’ Badger informed him.

  ‘But I could keep up, Badger, you know, now you’ve slowed down.’

  ‘If Mole wants to walk so much, I’ll change places with him any time,’ Adder murmured to Weasel. ‘I’m sure I shall rub all my scales off, if there’s much more of this hard road.’