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Authors: Colin Dann

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BOOK: Fox's Feud
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Whistler came to Fox’s rescue. ‘Scarface and his tribe have always hunted here,’ he pointed out sedately. ‘Lives could have been lost anyway by the usual law of the wild.’

‘Yes,’ said Hare. ‘We rodents must always run the gauntlet of death whenever there are carnivorous animals around. One of my leverets was killed last winter by a creature from the Reserve.’

‘A stoat,’ said Badger. ‘One that I once had words with myself. Yes. One can’t go against nature.’

‘Then what of Scarface now?’ demanded Rabbit. ‘Is he still to be allowed to live on?’

There was a long silence. No one wanted to be the first to speak. At last Fox said: ‘I’ll be advised by the Great Stag. Are you content to be so?’

None of the animals seemed prepared to argue, not even Vole.

‘Then it’s settled. I’ll go now and tell him of the night’s
events. He is the acknowledged overlord of the Park. It must rest with him.’

‘And how can we defend ourselves in the meantime?’ Squirrel wanted to know.

‘It’s easy for tree climbers like you,’ said Rabbit. ‘But for Vole and myself . . .’

‘Stay together here, all of you,’ said Fox, ‘while I pay my call. I’ll be back just as swiftly as I can. You’ll be quite safe in a bunch.’

He loped off, leaving Badger and Vixen in nominal charge. He was not long gone, and when the animals had debated at length what the Stag had agreed to do, they were astonished by the arrival of an exhausted Adder who brought them information none of them had expected.

After his talk with Toad, Adder had decided it was time to put his plan into effect. In a way he was thankful for his solitude, for it would enable him to act without the threat of interference. But before he could do anything he needed to see that Scarface was up and about again. Keeping close to the stream, he coiled himself amongst the willow-herb and watched the comings and goings along the banks. One day he caught a water-shrew but, apart from that, he ate nothing. Then came the night of Scarface’s solo raid.

Adder saw him limp up to the stream’s side and gingerly lower himself down the bank into the water. Then, not without difficulty, the fox swam across. Adder watched him limp away with satisfaction. Now he had
only to wait for Scarface to return. He noticed the spot on the bank where the animal had chosen to descend, which was less steep than most, and expected that Scarface would try to recross at that point. He slithered down the opposite bank and entered the water.

Adder was a good, but not enthusiastic swimmer. Usually he only swam at all when it was essential to do so. Now he was entering the water voluntarily. At first the current of the stream carried him along a distance, but Adder exerted his strength and, keeping close to the shore, undulated his way back to the crossing point. Then he found a strongly rooted patch of weed in midstream and wrapped his body securely round it, leaving only his head above the surface. In this way he passed the night.

He was very glad when dawn broke, for the water was cold. With daylight it began to warm up. Adder kept his unblinking eyes trained on the home bank, confident that he was all but invisible from the shore. At last, in the early morning light, he saw the awaited figure approaching.

There was a quite distinguishable expression of slyness and cruelty on the animal’s face as he looked this way and that around him. He sat down on the top of the bank and yawned, watching the water. For some minutes he sat quite still, his ears pricked for any slight sound. Then he looked across the stream, directly at Adder.

The snake shrank back into the obscuring ripples until only his nostrils were above water. Another few minutes passed. Nothing happened. Adder peeped above the surface again. Scarface was still sitting on the bank, but had his head turned, looking behind him. Adder knew then he had not been detected.

Scarface looked round again and stood up. Slowly, very slowly, he clambered down the bank. Adder tensed
himself. The fox waded into the stream and began to paddle stiffly towards midstream. Adder waited, immobile. At the last moment he loosened his grip on the weed stem and, as Scarface came level, gathered his remaining strength and struck upwards. His fangs sank into the fox’s soft hind parts under his flank, releasing their full store of venom. Scarface yelped with pain and alarm, but Adder merely dropped back into the water and allowed himself to be taken downstream at the pace of the water. Scarface regained sufficient composure to struggle to the other bank and haul himself clear. By this time Adder was out of sight.

Already weakened by his recent fierce battle with Fox, Scarface lay shuddering on the shore, frightened and angry. The creatures from Farthing Wood had struck back at him again. Were they to be the undoing of him after all? It was some time before he could bring himself to give Adder due acknowledgement for his plan of revenge. It had been masterly and he admitted final defeat. He decided not to attempt to get back to his den. Soon he would die like the younger fox had done. He realized that he had been the real target of his enemies all along. ‘Well, at least I’ve taken some of them with me,’ he muttered to himself, chuckling in his throat. ‘They won’t forget
me
!’

Meanwhile Adder had pulled himself out of the water and was sluggishly making his way back to the scene of his triumph. He felt empty and weak – but victorious. By the time he came within range of Scarface, the poison had begun to take effect, eliminating him from any danger.

Scarface at once recognized the snake’s blunt tail. ‘So it
was
you,’ he whispered. ‘The Farthing Wood Adder?’

‘The same,’ Adder acknowledged wryly.

‘Well, you’ve achieved more than your brave leader could do,’ Scarface told him. ‘Perhaps you should change places?’ He gasped as the first tremors began to shake his body.

Adder watched him without emotion. ‘You’ve got no more than you deserved,’ was all he said.

‘Maybe,’ Scarface answered hoarsely. ‘That’s the way of things.’ He trembled more violently. ‘You’ve – killed – me,’ he panted, ‘but – remember . . .’ He drew a deep, racking breath. ‘I’m not – the end of – my line . . .’ His words were expelled painfully and harshly from his lips. They were his last.

Adder stayed no longer. The threat implied by Scarface went unheeded by the snake. He was quite satisfied with the end of Scarface. He swam back across the stream and at once set off on the long journey towards his old friends, to bring them the news. It proved to be as well that he did so.

On his way back through the Reserve he nearly wriggled directly under the massive hooves of the Great Stag.

‘Take care, my friend,’ cautioned the leader of the White Deer.

‘Some of us have our eyes rather closer to the ground,’ Adder answered irritably. ‘We can’t look up at the sky like you do.’

‘Quite so, quite so,’ said the Stag good humouredly. ‘You seem to be in something of a hurry?’

‘Perhaps I am,’ said Adder warily.

‘Well, I’m not prying,’ the Stag went on. ‘You have your own business to attend to.’

Adder could not resist a dry laugh. ‘I’ve just attended to it,’ he hissed sinisterly.

The Great Stag looked at him circumspectly, noticing
his mutilated tail. ‘You’ve been in the wars, it seems,’ he remarked presently.

‘I have,’ said Adder. ‘But I survived.’

The barest emphasis in the way he answered was noticed by the deer immediately, who already had his suspicions. ‘Am I to surmise, then, that your adversary did not?’ he asked penetratingly.

Adder’s reply was merely a sardonic grin.

‘It comes into my mind that you may have saved me a journey,’ the Stag observed.

‘As I don’t know where your journey lies I’m afraid I can’t enlighten you,’ answered Adder.

‘Shall we stop hedging, my friend?’ suggested the Stag. ‘I was on my way to visit the scarfaced fox.’

‘Were you indeed?’ drawled the snake. ‘Then I can tell you that you will find him quite close by.’

The Great Stag sighed. ‘Your caution does you credit,’ he said, ‘but I beg you to answer a civil question. Is there any point in my continuing on my journey?’

‘Er – no,’ said Adder.

‘Thank you. Now I understand the situation. But you may be concerned to hear that some of your travelling companions were killed last night by the – er – animal under discussion.’

‘That news serves only to increase my gratification at what I have just done,’ said Adder. ‘But who of my friends were killed?’

The Stag told him.

‘I see,’ said the snake, relieved, despite his recent accusations, that Fox was not among them.

‘I hope the Park will now return to its former state of quietude,’ said the Great Stag.

‘Likewise,’ answered Adder. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some news to convey.’

‘Of course.’ The Stag stood aside and watched Adder
continue on his way. He shrugged to himself. ‘Well,’ he mused, ‘it seems that actions speak louder than words.’ He stood for some time looking into the distance. Then he turned and started to walk majestically back in the direction of his herd.

It was not until quite late in the day that the stiff, prone body of Scarface was discovered. His mate, who had wisely never interfered in his schemes, at last decided his absence from the earth was unusually long. She looked for him in every likely spot and, finally, accompanied by Ranger and one of her adult offspring, went to the stream.

It was Ranger who recognized the cause of Scarface’s death. After consoling his mother as best he could, he spoke to his elder brother. ‘This is the work of snakebite, Blaze,’ he said to him. ‘The appearance of our father is very similar to that of our cousin who was also killed in this way. It’s almost certainly by the same snake.’

‘You’re very probably right,’ agreed Blaze. ‘Our father might have been hunting him.’

‘I’m sure he was,’ said Ranger. ‘Some time ago I saw a snake in this area and I told Father where to find him. I thought he had been exterminated.’

‘You should have killed the creature yourself,’ said Blaze.

Ranger nodded. ‘Now I wish I had,’ he answered. He had no idea Adder was in any way connected with Charmer’s parents or their friends. ‘But Scarface was a jealous parent,’ he went on. ‘He would only have reproached me for doing his job.’

‘That’s how he was,’ Blaze agreed. ‘But what now? Any of us might meet the same fate!’

‘Then we must eliminate the chance of it,’ Ranger asserted. ‘I’ll comb this area for the culprit, if you go back and round up as many of the others you can. Then together, we must uncover him.’

Blaze led his mother back to her den. She was too stunned to participate in any hunt. Then he returned to the scene of the killing with eight more of his tribe.

‘Not a trace of him so far,’ Ranger announced. ‘We must work quickly before darkness falls.’

But, though they searched high and low, there was no sign of Adder for, of course, he had left the area hours ago. As dusk began to steal over the Park, Ranger and Blaze called the search off. ‘We can continue tomorrow,’ said Ranger, who was already thinking of his meeting with Charmer. ‘We’ll have the whole day ahead of us, and we’re sure to catch him in the end.’

The foxes disbanded and Ranger made his way to the usual meeting place. He felt no sorrow for his father’s death, for there had been no particular bond between them. But for his bereaved mother’s sake, he was determined to avenge his killing.

Charmer arrived at the spot, uncertain how to conduct herself. To her parents and all the Farthing Wood
creatures, Adder was a hero. Even more so as he had narrowly escaped death himself from the very jaws of their mutual enemy. But she was well aware that the dead fox had sired Ranger and had, therefore, a claim on his feelings.

Ranger greeted her in his normal manner, noticing, however, her reticence. ‘I suppose you have heard of my father’s death?’ he surmised.

Charmer nodded silently.

‘Well, I realize you have no reason to grieve,’ he said. ‘I’ve no illusions about your sentiments on the matter – or of your friends. Scarface made himself your enemy.’

‘I’m only regretful on your behalf,’ she said to him. ‘As for us – well, there’s a general feeling of relief that what had been an abiding threat has now disappeared.’

BOOK: Fox's Feud
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