The Siege of White Deer Park Read online

  Adder was taken aback and, indeed, a little affronted. She had made him feel small and he did not think she was trying particularly hard to be polite.

  ‘Er – yes,’ he muttered. ‘But how do you know about it being like a cat?’

  ‘What a funny question,’ she commented. ‘Because I’ve seen it, of course!’

  Her manner really was very abrupt, Adder decided. He did not know why he was bothering with her. Politeness was not something he normally cared very much about, one way or the other. He was preparing himself for one of his most sarcastic retorts when the female snake spoke again.

  ‘I’ve just had a thought,’ she hissed. ‘Those scratches of yours. They couldn’t be –’

  ‘Yes!’ Adder cried triumphantly. His attitude changed at once. ‘I was mauled by the “Big Cat”, as you call it.’

  ‘I guessed as much,’ she returned. ‘You must have been very careless to have got in its way. It couldn’t have been chasing you, because it doesn’t feed off snakes!’

  Adder had been mistaken in thinking his scars had impressed her. Now his anger began to kindle. Who was she to make comments about his carelessness?

  ‘I’m afraid you’re speaking from ignorance,’ he said sourly. ‘The stealth of this beast is more than enough to annul the most painstaking efforts at caution any other creature could make.’

  The female snake looked at him for a few moments. She could tell she had annoyed him. ‘Now don’t get in a coil,’ she said easily. She seemed to be preparing to rest, for she slithered away for a few centimetres. Adder heard her murmur to herself, ‘Goodness, what a pedantic reply!’

  His red eyes glared into the darkness. The mossy couch no longer seemed so soft and comfortable. He had not realized how offended he had been. He – the Farthing Wood Adder! What had she done to compare with his exploits? The more he thought, the more irritated he felt. In the end he could not bear to remain any longer in her company. Without another word he slid away, and it was not until he had put a fair distance between them, that he stopped again.

  Before he quite sank into his usual nocturnal state of dormancy, Adder considered his reaction. Why had he been so irritated? What was this female to him that he should care so much as a fern-frond for her opinions? He was not sure he knew the answer. But he had half a mind, when daylight should arrive again, to return to Toad’s clump of moss to see if she was still around – even if only to tell her what he thought of her!

  The news of the deer killing was brought to Friendly by his young companions. Husky, Pace and Rusty had gone in search of food as had been suggested. They had kept close together to give themselves courage. Because of this they did not feel they had to restrict themselves in their range, and they wandered quite far. It was Husky who found the body. As usual, most of it had been consumed. The remainder was lying amongst some undergrowth, and there was no mistaking the freshness of the meat. The blood around it had hardly dried. Husky did not delay in bringing it to the attention of the other two.

  ‘How could it have done that so quickly after escaping from us?’ Pace asked rhetorically.

  ‘Us?’ Rusty echoed with a wry look.

  ‘Well, Friendly, then . . .’

  ‘It moves as it pleases, doesn’t it?’ Husky said. ‘It chooses its victim. It stalks it. And then it snatches it with the utmost ease.’

  ‘I wish I had such confidence and such skill,’ Pace remarked. ‘I’d like to see the Beast in action. I can imagine the whole sequence – the smoothness, the stealth . . .’

  Husky was looking at the remains. ‘Well, are we going to waste this?’ he demanded of the others.

  There was a silence. Then Rusty said, ‘But we – we – daren’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ Husky returned cockily. ‘Can you see old “Stealth” around, or hear him?’

  ‘No, but that’s not to say he’s not in the vicinity. How should we know?’

  ‘We don’t,’ Husky declared. ‘But I’m hungry – and there’s more than one of us.’

  ‘I – I don’t think it would be wise,’ Pace cautioned. ‘The Beast might be planning to come back and finish this.’ But as he looked at the meat and smelt again its freshness, he began to drool.

  ‘Come on,’ Husky urged him. ‘We might not get another opportunity like this.’ He bent and took a small piece of flesh from the carcass. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t,’ he pronounced. ‘Trust “Stealth” to choose himself the finest game.’

  Pace did not need any more persuasion, and eventually Rusty too joined in the meal. It was an act of bravado, really, by these youngsters urging each other on. None of them were at ease as they ate. Their ears twitched to and fro constantly, trying to pick up the faintest of warning sounds. They chewed the meat stiff-legged, ready to dart away at the first moment. All the time their spines tingled and the hair on their backs rose slightly in a sort of awareness at the risk they were taking. But they were not interrupted and, when they had finished, they were all in agreement that they should return at once to the wood where Friendly and the older foxes awaited them.

  They ran quickly, without any deviation from the route. They looked forward excitedly to Friendly’s surprise when they would tell him of their audacity. As they loped along in high spirits, they were watched from a low branch of an oak by a pair of unblinking, gleaming eyes. Not one of them went unheeded. Not one of their actions was unperceived.

  Friendly’s reaction was not entirely as they had expected. He looked concerned at their news, and they thought they were about to be reproached for their daring. But he reminded himself how faithfully they had followed him and he had not the heart to issue a rebuke. He even went so far as to remark that he liked their cheek.

  Ranger, however, made them understand that he thought they had been very foolish. ‘You don’t know what trouble you might have stored up for yourselves,’ he told them. ‘If the Beast takes it into its head to teach you a lesson, don’t come running to me.’ He was ravenously hungry and the young foxes’ foolhardiness only aggravated his general feeling of discomfort.

  ‘You know you don’t mean that, Ranger,’ Friendly reasoned with him. ‘We all stand together on this. We formed our group for a purpose and we can’t back down now.’

  ‘Well, there’s no more to be done tonight,’ Ranger asserted positively. ‘We can’t go off hunting now, we adults, and leave the juniors unattended. Not after what they’ve just told us. What do you think, Trip?’

  ‘I agree with you,’ said his cousin. ‘There’s always another day.’

  ‘Of course there’s another day,’ said Friendly. ‘But on another day we’d have to start from scratch again trying to pick up a trail. I still feel our best chance of success is now. I’m willing to ignore my stomach for the rest of the night if necessary.’

  ‘Well, I’m not,’ said Ranger bluntly. ‘The situation’s changed. We’ve lost the element of surprise. We might find that the Beast will decide to come looking for us.’

  ‘Perfect!’ was Friendly’s reply. ‘It would find it had made a grave mistake. How could it cope with the entire group of us?’

  Trip decided the matter by siding with Ranger. ‘It’s too clever for that. Now let’s go and feed. We can meet again tomorrow.’

  Friendly saw he must succumb. ‘So be it,’ he said, trying to mask his exasperation. ‘You youngsters must take us at dusk to this latest kill, and we’ll begin to track it from there. We may find it easier next time, for we’ll be following the taint of blood.’

  Toad returned to his mossy base later that night. He had fed well on slugs and insects, and he was in a good humour. He was keen to see if Adder had found the spot because he was feeling rather talkative. When he saw the mosaic coils of the snake at rest on his soft bed, he was delighted.

  ‘Well, you’ve certainly made yourself comfortable,’ Toad began, ‘and – goodness! – it really looks as if your scratches are healing already!’

  The she-viper raised her head and regarded the sma
ll amphibious animal who addressed her. Her eyes glared greedily, for she thought at first she was looking at a frog. But when she realized it was a toad she lost interest. She knew how unpalatable toads were and, without saying a word, settled herself once more.

  Toad was surprised and a little disappointed at the snake’s reaction. But he knew how unpredictable Adder was. You could never be quite confident that he would be in a friendly mood. Then he remembered his recent experiences and wondered if Adder were in pain or feeling unwell.

  ‘Are you all right, Adder?’ Toad asked with real concern.

  The snake looked up again. ‘I’m perfectly well,’ she answered smoothly, ‘though I must confess I’m somewhat puzzled at your interest.’

  Now Toad realized his mistake and, quite unconsciously, hopped a little further away. A strange snake was always a potential enemy. ‘I – I took you for another,’ he muttered and began at once to move off.

  ‘I think I met him,’ was the unexpected reply. ‘He won’t be far off, I should say. He was here, but somehow I seemed to upset him.’

  Toad was most intrigued, but his discretion kept him moving. He would have dearly loved to have known what had happened at the meeting. Adder had never been known to consort with females, though his private activities were largely a mystery. But Toad was well aware that, even if he found his friend, the snake would give absolutely nothing away. He plodded on in a reflective mood.

  From his solitary resting-place Adder heard the toad’s rustlings through the leaves. He waited until he was closer and then made himself visible.

  ‘You needn’t have come looking for me,’ he hissed.

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Toad, ‘I’ve had to abandon my little roost temporarily. I expect you can guess why.’

  Adder’s face was a mask. His impassive features did not show a flicker of comprehension. He remained silent. Toad said no more, but started to dig himself down into the leaf litter. His back feet worked vigorously.

  ‘Are you burying yourself?’ Adder asked curiously.

  ‘Oh no. But I never squat quite on the surface,’ Toad explained. ‘You don’t know what creature might come along.’ He shot a sly glance at the snake but Adder made no response.

  Later, when it was still dark but in the early part of the morning, they were aroused by the sound of running feet. They soon discovered the cause. It was Friendly and his group of followers.

  ‘They look as if they have some purpose in mind,’ Toad commented.

  ‘Yesss,’ drawled Adder. ‘And I don’t think it’s a hunting trip.’

  They watched the band of foxes move on their way.

  ‘They don’t often travel together like that,’ Toad said. ‘They’ve been on some errand or other.’

  They had seen five of the foxes. Ranger had broken away to search for much-needed food. Some time afterwards he came right past the two animals, quite oblivious of their nearness. He was not one of the Farthing Wood community of creatures, but Toad and Adder were both impatient for information. So they halted him.

  ‘Oh,’ said Ranger, when he saw them. ‘I hadn’t realized. My mind was on other things.’

  ‘We’ve just seen Friendly with a group of youngsters,’ said Toad. ‘Quite a bunch of them. We’ve been pondering the meaning of it.’

  Ranger had no qualms about waiving secrecy, particularly as he had lost a lot of enthusiasm on this night for the idea of cornering the stranger. ‘Yes, we made a party,’ he told them honestly. ‘We’ve been tracking the Beast.’

  ‘I suppose you had no luck then,’ Adder lisped, ‘since there is no sign of any injuries?’

  ‘We did and we didn’t,’ Ranger returned cryptically. ‘It’s all Friendly’s idea. He wants to get the Beast away from here and he thinks a group of us can do it. I doubt if he’s right. It escaped us easily. But I agree with him that something has to be done.’

  Adder displayed his wounds in an elaborate exhibition of what could happen to them too. But they were lost for the most part on Ranger who, even in the moonlight, could scarcely see their severity.

  ‘Do you mean to go on with this?’ Toad asked the fox.

  ‘Friendly wants to. I’m beginning to have doubts,’ Ranger replied. ‘But I’ll stay with him a while and see what turns up.’

  ‘I’ve just shown you what will turn up,’ Adder hissed acidly. ‘You won’t be warned. So try and think of your offspring.’

  ‘Oh, I have done,’ Ranger assured him. ‘But I have no control, you must understand. They’re not cubs – any of them.’

  ‘You’re all cubs in temperament,’ Adder told him bluntly. ‘Playing around with something that could be lethal.’

  Ranger objected to Adder’s tone of superiority. He – Ranger – was no refugee from Farthing Wood who was obliged to respect the foibles of his comrades. ‘You’re entitled to your opinion,’ he told the snake, ‘for what it’s worth. But I think the subject of tracking and outmanoeuvring a mammal is best left to those who know about these things.’

  Adder was not in the least put out. He had the patience to wait for his words to be proved true by future events.

  Ranger did not tarry. He wanted to get back to Charmer and see that all was safe with their new litter.

  Charmer greeted him with her customary sweetness. She soon allayed his fears and then asked him if he and the others had been successful.

  ‘No,’ said Ranger. ‘Not successful. Only the Beast continues to be that. He is a proficient hunter and I think will always evade any of our stumbling efforts.’

  ‘The deer herd is very much in peril then,’ Charmer surmised. ‘How glad I am fox meat is no delicacy.’ She shuddered as she looked at her cubs.

  Ranger looked too, and the sight of the tiny bundles of fur huddling together for warmth steeled his resolve. Yes, Friendly was right. They must go on. For what sort of future could there be for these little ones – or any of them – whilst they were all in this stranger’s power?

  ‘The white stags must long for their new antlers to grow,’ he murmured. ‘They are the herd’s only protection.’ He lay down next to his mate. Charmer nuzzled him comfortingly. Outside the den, dawn hovered on the horizon.

  At first light Adder stirred. Toad was deep in his bower of soft soil and leaves. The snake slid noiselessly away. The she-viper was again in his thoughts. Adder found himself moving in her direction. He had not decided what sort of approach he would use with her and, as he went along, he endeavoured to compose a really choice remark. But the female had gone on her way, and Adder was left to wonder about her – and ponder, his hurts forgotten.

  * * * * *

  Later that day the Park’s inhabitants became aware that some new scheme was being put into action by the Warden. He and three other men were working by the perimeter of the Reserve, on a piece of open ground about half a kilometre from the Warden’s cottage. They did not at first realize what was happening, for the sight of men and their tools and machinery frightened them and they kept well away. But as the day went on, birds who flew over the area were able to report on events. It seemed that part of the Park was being cordoned off. Using the boundary fence on one side, an enclosure was being erected with extra poles and bars which looked like a miniature reserve within the Reserve. The curiosity of the animals was profound but, naturally, they dared not go anywhere near the work. By late afternoon it was complete. Whistler decided to go and have a look for the benefit of his own particular animal friends.

  When the heron flew over the construction, the men had left taking all their equipment with them. Already a few of the most inquisitive beasts were gathering to make an inspection. From the air the fencing could be seen as forming a circle. There was a single opening.

  ‘Now what on earth is it for?’ Whistler asked himself. He made sure he looked at it from all sides, so that he could describe it accurately to the others. ‘Something is to be put in it, that’s clear.’ He flew away, racking his brains for a solution.

  Fox and Vixe
n, Weasel and Leveret were waiting for Whistler’s return. When he told them, in the greatest detail, what he had seen, they put their heads together.

  ‘It sounds like a sort of cage,’ Vixen said.

  ‘Of course!’ cried Weasel. ‘It must be for the Beast!’

  ‘I don’t think that can be, Weasel,’ Whistler remarked. ‘It’s too big for one animal. And, besides, can’t the creature climb?’

  ‘Yes, yes. It wouldn’t hold it,’ Fox agreed. ‘Something much more subtle would be needed for that cunning character.’

  ‘It’s not – er – something that all of us could be put into, is it?’ Leveret asked hesitantly, afraid he would sound a fool.

  The others were amused at the idea but tried not to show it.

  ‘There would be no point in that,’ Fox reassured the hare. ‘Don’t worry Leveret.’

  A familiar hoot sounded and they looked up to see Tawny Owl flying towards them. He seemed to be in a great haste about something. He landed awkwardly, bumping into the heron’s long legs and making the tall bird rock.

  ‘Sorry, Whistler,’ he muttered in a flustered way. ‘The deer – the deer —’ he started to say. Then he stopped. ‘I must remember my age – shouldn’t fly so fast,’ he murmured to himself.

  ‘What of the deer?’ Fox asked eagerly. It was obvious something of import had occurred.

  ‘They’re being – rounded up,’ Owl told them with an effort. He had tired himself badly.

  ‘So that’s it!’ the others cried simultaneously.

  ‘Yes, there are men on horseback and – and – a couple of dogs,’ Tawny Owl went on. ‘I don’t know where they mean to take them.’

  Fox enlightened the bird. Then he continued, ‘The men must want the whole herd in one place. Easier to look after them, I suppose.’

  ‘They’ll have to feed them as well,’ Vixen pointed out, ‘if they’re not left free to forage.’

  ‘Well, one thing’s for certain,’ said Weasel. ‘It will call a halt to our silent friend’s activities.’ He spoke with great satisfaction.