Run with the Wind (4 page)

‘Let them go,’ said Old Sage Brush, sensing their departure. ‘The loss is theirs. Their eyes may be open, but it is they who are blind. Now who is left?’

‘But not only are you blind,’ said another fox. ‘You are old and weak.’

‘It’s true,’ said Old Sage Brush. ‘I am also old, and I do not have the strength of a younger fox. But then it’s not only a question of strength. If it was, a bull could catch a hare.’

Despite the obvious wisdom of what the old fox was saying, this fox too turned to go, telling him: ‘Sorry Sage Brush, but I think I’ll take my chances in Wood Land.’ Then another rose and said: ‘I’d like to join you, old fox, but my mate is back in Lake Land. My place is with her.’

‘Anyone else?’ asked Old Sage Brush.

A third fox got up and came forward, saying: ‘I’ll come.’

The old fox cocked his ear: ‘Why do you limp?’

‘He’s only got three paws,’ Black Tip whispered.

‘My right front paw got caught in a trap,’ said the other fox. ‘I had to chew it off to escape. But if you think I’ll slow you down …’

‘No, no,’ said Old Sage Brush. ‘That’s the sort of courage we need. What name are you known by?’

‘Everyone calls me Hop-along.’

‘Okay then, Hop-along it is.’

‘I’d like to come too,’ said a dark-haired vixen. ‘My name’s She-la.’

‘Are you in cub?’ asked the old fox.

‘No, I have not yet taken a mate.’

‘Then you will have time She-la, and you are most welcome.’

‘Just two,’ whispered Fang to Vickey, ‘and one of them has only three legs.’

‘Don’t be disappointed,’ said Old Sage Brush whose acute sense of hearing had picked up what Fang had said. He trotted over the rim of the circle. ‘And anyway, it’s three if I’m not mistaken.’

Looking over, the others caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes peeping from behind one of the beech trees.

‘Skulking Dog,’ said Old Sage Brush. ‘Why do you hide?’

The fox came out from behind the tree and approached
the edge of the hollow cautiously, but didn’t answer. It was obvious he was very much a loner and was undecided whether to join them.

‘Well,’ said Old Sage Brush, ‘it is up to yourself. We’re off now. We’ve little time and a lot to learn. Lead on Black Tip. Don’t forget, follow the brush. And if danger threatens, run with the wind — that way, we’ll leave less scent.’

Five

The Little Brown Hen

A
s the foxes made their way northwards along the valley, they were relieved to find that the shooting had stopped. They had no way of knowing that the shooting season had come to an end. All they knew was that they could now move through the meadows without fear of being shot, and for that they were grateful. Other dangers remained, and sometimes seemed to multiply. The choking hedge-traps were everywhere and slowed down their progress considerably. There was no let-up in the weather either. The nights were cold, the ground was frozen hard, and food was difficult to find.

Moving in a group didn’t come easily to them, for it is a fox’s nature to live and hunt alone except at breeding time.
This new way of life presented new problems. A stronger scent meant a clearer path for dogs to follow. Above all, it meant more food to be found, thus increasing the risk of discovery. Had it not been for Old Sage Brush they wouldn’t have survived the first few days.

Skulking Dog had lingered behind them, not catching up, not leaving off, not committing himself until he would see how things worked out. All the time Old Sage Brush was aware of his presence, but counselled the others to ignore him unless any of his indiscretions put the group in danger. Black Tip never left the old fox’s side, and Fang was never far behind. In general, Fang had turned out to be a great strength, not only to Old Sage Brush, but to Hop-along and the vixens. Vickey was hoping that he might mate with She-la, but she was not yet ready for a mate, and was as independent as any of the dog foxes. Perhaps this was why Old Sage Brush was in no hurry to force the issue with Skulking Dog. He knew that when the time came for She-la to take a mate Skulking Dog wouldn’t be long in coming in to join them. He also knew the problems that could cause, as the other two dogs — Fang and Hop-along — wouldn’t like the idea of such an attractive she-fox going to an outsider.

At first the group travelled and hunted by night, but they found that this slowed them down too much. Hunting required a lot of time, depending as it did on opportunity as much as anything else. It was something that couldn’t be
rushed or confined to a particular part of the night. At the same time it wasn’t safe for so many of them to travel by day. Realising this, Old Sage Brush came up with the idea that they would get what food they could during the day and travel by the light of the moon, or as they call it, gloomglow. In between, they would get what sleep they needed.

It was also agreed, after much discussion, that they should try and find their food in the wild, rather than risk bringing farmers’ dogs out after them. Not being in on these decisions, however, Skulking Dog was unaware that, except for very special reasons, farmyards were now out of bounds to those who would seek the secret of survival.

Skulking Dog, as the others had rightly guessed that first night under Beech Paw, was indeed a loner, a strong dog fox whose stealth and courage always provided him with plenty. However, he was inclined to rely too much on his physical ability and not enough on the cunning brain that the great god Vulpes had given him. If the others hadn’t the courage to take food from the farmyards, he wasn’t going to pass them by.

He too was forced to forage by day, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the others, and this made his visits to the farms doubly dangerous. Yet he was a good hunter, and escaped attention until one day he had what he thought was the good fortune to find a chicken-run. Everything went well until he pounced on his first chicken. Immediately, the other chickens scattered into flight, banging
into the wire and falling and screeching in panic. Seeing so many chickens at his mercy, Skulking Dog threw caution to the wind and in a frenzy of excitement snapped the head off every chicken he could find, before grabbing one and squeezing back out through the wire.

It was only when a hail of lead went whizzing over his head that he found the clamour had brought the farmer running out of the house with his shotgun. Realising his mistake, he fled with lead shot singing through the rushes behind him and the farmer’s dogs in hot pursuit. Then he made his second mistake. Instead of taking a wide circle, he ran towards the other foxes. They too were forced to flee, and it was only after many miles of dangerous daylight flight that they managed to shake off their pursuers.

Old Sage Brush was very annoyed, and at gloomglow sent Black Tip and Fang to bring Skulking Dog in.

Whether it was because Skulking Dog realised the error of his ways, or because he’d had such a narrow escape, he now felt there might be safety in numbers after all, and allowed the two dog foxes to take him to Old Sage Brush.

The old fox was blunt. He told Skulking Dog that if he didn’t join them, he must leave them. They could no longer tolerate him putting the whole group in danger. If he wanted to see how a chicken farm should be raided, he would show him. Reluctantly, Skulking Dog agreed to join them.

After putting a few more miles between themselves and
the farmer’s dogs, just to be on the safe side, they came to an area of scrub-covered hills. It was an ideal place for foxes, and they hoped they might come upon a local fox, or maybe even a badger, who could brief them on the area and show them where to get food. As in so many other places, however, the foxes and the badgers had gone. Under the gorse on the side of one hill, they found a deserted badger set and took refuge in its maze of tunnels and chambers. Badgers, they had found, were first-class home-builders, and the set was warm and dry and very clean.

As Skulking Dog curled up in a chamber at the back of the earth and sulked, Old Sage Brush assigned Fang to the chamber nearest the entrance where he could keep guard, while he himself retired to another part of the earth to rest. Vickey could see that the flight from the dogs had been a great ordeal for someone of his age. If she was to be his inspiration, she thought, now was the time. Black Tip had gone up to check with Fang that everything was in order and Hop-along and She-la were dozing. Vickey slipped quietly up to the chamber where the old fox was resting and nudged his cheek.

‘Sage Brush,’ she whispered. ‘Are you all right?’

The old fox nodded. ‘Just tired.’

‘And just a little bit angry?’ asked Vickey soothingly.

‘I suppose so.’

‘Don’t worry’ said Vickey. ‘It’s over now’

‘But it could have meant death for some of us. It would be different if we were all equal; if we were all strong like Fang and Black Tip

‘What’s that you say about Black Tip?’

‘Ah, come in Black Tip,’ said Old Sage Brush. ‘I was just saying to Vickey, it would be different if we were all young and strong like you, but we’re not. I’m old and weak and Hop-along has to make do with three legs. So we must act in such a way that our weaknesses are not exposed to our enemies.’

‘What do you suggest?’ asked Black Tip.

‘Well, Skulking Dog has agreed to give us his company, but not his mind. Inside he’s still a lone dog, and so long as he continues to think and act like that we remain in danger.’

‘How do we change his mind?’ asked Vickey.

‘I don’t know yet. Somehow we’ll have to show him that his ways are the ways of death.’

‘But isn’t it our nature to hunt alone?’ said Black Tip. ‘Perhaps it’s just that Skulking Dog doesn’t know you as we do ….’

‘And thinks I’m too old and weak to be his leader?’ Old Sage Brush considered that before adding: ‘Then Skulking Dog must be shown. As Vulpes in his cunning has said, the ivy plant may be too weak to stand alone, but it can overcome the strongest tree.’

Vickey and Black Tip smiled at each other. It gladdened their hearts to see the strength returning to the old fox, and with it the quaint expression of his wisdom.

Returning from a hunting trip, Black Tip and Fang reported hearing a large gathering of poultry in the area. They also brought back two strange eggs they had found in the ruins of an old house — strange, because no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t crush the shells.

None of the others had seen eggs like them before. They were the same shape as all hen eggs, maybe a bit shinier, and there was a small hole in each. Perhaps, She-la suggested, something had sucked the yolks out. Could be, they thought, but why then were the shells so hard?

Old Sage Brush, when consulted, couldn’t shed much light on the matter, apart from the fact that he recalled having seen eggs like them before. As a young fox, he said, he had found them occasionally in nest boxes, and indeed his cubs had played with them, but he hadn’t come across them for a long time now.

What the foxes had found were imitation eggs made of delft that someone had put in a nest box to encourage hens to lay. Thinking they were real eggs, another fox had taken them, then discarded them.

While Hop-along and the two vixens amused themselves with the strange eggs, Old Sage Brush put Fang in charge of the earth and went out with Black Tip and Skulking Dog to investigate. He was afraid of what Skulking Dog might get up to in his absence, if he left him behind. He also sensed
that perhaps an opportunity was about to present itself to teach him a lesson. Not far from the earth, the sound of many hens brought them to a halt.

‘It’s coming from the other side of that hill,’ said Black Tip.

‘Okay, lead on,’ said Old Sage Brush, ‘and Skulking Dog keep close behind. Don’t do anything until I tell you to.’

At the top of the hill there was a gap in the gorse, and there they concealed themselves among the fronds of withered bracken.

‘Tell me what you see Black Tip,’ whispered Old Sage Brush.

‘Down in the hollow, there are three long sheds, and outside two of them is a big funnel. In the first one, that’s the one without a funnel, I can see rows and rows of eggs, and new born chicks.’

‘What can you see in the next one?’

A workman opened the door of the shed long enough for Black Tip to get a look at the inside.

‘I see many wire cages, and each cage seems to be filled with four or five hens,’

‘And the next one?’

‘I can’t see into it at the moment. But wait

Several men came around the corner carrying empty buckets, opened the door and went in. Black Tip could see that inside the shed many white hens scratched and cackled, but although the door was partly open, they made no attempt to come out. A few minutes later the men emerged
with the buckets full of eggs and closed the door behind them.

‘What else do you see?’

‘Nothing else.’

‘Now Skulking Dog,’ said Old Sage Brush, ‘look around and tell me what you see.’

‘Hills,’ said Skulking Dog. ‘Plenty of cover …’ He made to get up.

‘Lie down,’ ordered Old Sage Brush. ‘Just tell me what you see.’

‘A little brown hen,’ said Skulking Dog, quivering with excitement. ‘She’s scratching among the gorse on the other hill over there.’

‘Now,’ said the old fox, ‘what would you do if you were to fill your belly?’

‘Take the little brown hen.’

‘And what about the other hens?’

Skulking Dog was about to say he could maybe nip in and get one, when he remembered what had happened the last time he had tried something like that.

‘Even if you were able to snatch one,’ said Old Sage Brush, reading his mind, ‘you would only get enough for yourself. What would you do Black Tip?’

‘I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.’

‘Exactly. Well, you stay here Black Tip and observe everything that happens. We’ll go back to the earth and tell the
others what we’ve seen, and we’ll all think about it.’

While Black Tip settled down to watch the hatchery — and the little brown hen — Skulking Dog led Old Sage Brush back to the earth. The others were still playing with the shiny eggs when they arrived.

‘What we have to figure out,’ Old Sage Brush told them, ‘is how to get enough hens out of there to feed all of us, without drawing man down upon us.’

‘It’s not possible,’ said Skulking Dog. ‘If it was, why have other foxes not done it? They’ve all moved on because they knew there was no point in staying.’

‘Let’s all think about it and see what we can come up with,’ said Old Sage Brush. ‘Skulking Dog, you talk it over with Hop-along and She-la. Vickey, maybe you would like to go over and keep Black Tip company, and if you see anything worthwhile, come back and tell me. This requires much thought.’