The Siege of White Deer Park (3 page)

The foxes waited but Adder seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say.

‘Except what?’ Fox prompted.

‘Oh, it’s of no importance,’ Adder hissed. He had quickly decided that something he had detected might alarm them further. ‘Have you seen Toad?’ he asked to divert them.

‘Oh yes. He steers clear of the pond too,’ Vixen told him.

‘Mmm. I hope I come across him,’ Adder murmured. ‘Well, I’m off to sun myself,’ he added abruptly. ‘Then I’ll be ready for those frogs.’

He disappeared rather hurriedly and Fox and Vixen looked at each other with wry expressions.

‘He doesn’t change,’ Vixen observed.

‘No, he doesn’t,’ Fox concurred. ‘And I wouldn’t want him to. But he’s keeping something from us. I know him.’

Adder
was
keeping something back. Before he would say more, he wanted his suspicions about what he had seen
confirmed or allayed. Toad was the one to do that. So the snake went in search of him.

He had not been misleading the foxes about sunning himself. He needed the warmth from a long bask in the sun to get his muscles working properly in case there should be a bit of travelling for him to do. He found a patch of dead bracken which faced into the spring sunshine. The spot was dry and the ground felt quite warm. It was ideal for him. While he enjoyed his sun-bath Adder reflected that it was just the opposite of the sort of place Toad would be seeking. Toad liked dampness and shelter from the sun’s rays, and preferred to move about after dark.

When Adder felt thoroughly warm and sufficiently lively, he moved off. He was still in the part of the Park originally colonized by the band of Farthing Wood animals, and so he hoped he might meet some old companions. As he rippled through the dry dead stalks of grass he saw an animal rise from the ground a few metres in front of him. It was Leveret who, in a typical attitude, was standing on hind legs to look about him. Adder hastened forward, calling in his rasping way. He knew that if Leveret bounded off there would be no hope of his catching him again. No animal in the Park could move so swiftly. Luckily Leveret detected the snake’s movement and dropped on all fours to await him.

‘I thought it must be you,’ he said when Adder came up. ‘Well, it’s a sign Spring has really and truly arrived when you are seen moving about.’

‘I’m looking for Toad,’ Adder stated bluntly, without offering a greeting.

‘Yes. I see.’

‘Well, can you help me?’

‘I hope so, yes. What’s the problem?’ Leveret asked.

The snake’s tongue flickered faster than ever, a sure
sign of his exasperation. It was always the same with this maddening animal, he thought. Everything had to be said twice. ‘Can you help me find Toad?’ he hissed slowly and emphatically.

‘If you wish it, Adder. Now where shall we begin?’

‘Oh, don’t bother!’ said the snake angrily. ‘Perhaps I’ll manage better on my own.’

Leveret looked surprised. ‘But I thought –’ he began.

‘Look,’ said Adder. ‘I’m going towards the pond. If you see Toad tell him to meet me there. I need his advice.’ He slid away in a bad humour. ‘Mammals!’ he muttered.

Leveret watched his departure. ‘Funny he should be going
to
the pond when everyone else has been moving away from it,’ he said to himself.

Adder took a roundabout route to the pond. Always one of the most secretive creatures in his movements, he now used extra care in view of the new air of uncertainty in the Reserve. It was a while before he reached the pond and his progress had been arrested twice on the way by two plump frogs who had presented to him irresistible reasons for delay. But once near the water’s edge in the early dusk, Adder was still able to see the strange signs he had detected before. He settled himself down amongst the reeds and sedges for what might prove to be a long wait. The surface of the pond was undisturbed in the evening calm and no sound – not a single croak or chirp – arose from the vegetation clothing its banks.

Toad had soon been rounded up by Leveret. He was puzzled by Adder’s message but, since he well knew that the snake was not prone to seek another’s company without a definite purpose, he agreed to set off for the rendezvous. It was with some considerable misgiving that Toad found himself returning to the scene of so much recent agitation. He decided to run no risks – even though he suspected a small creature like himself might be beneath the notice of the mysterious fierce hunter. He covered most of the distance to the pond in daylight, but as soon as he got close to the danger area he hid himself in some thick moss to await darkness. Then, with the benefit of its screen, he continued rather more confidently. However, he was still wary, and he paused often to listen. He reached the pond without noticing any evidence of an unusual presence abroad that night.

Toad gave a muffled croak once or twice in the hope that only the waiting Adder would recognize it. The snake had expected him to arrive after dark and had remained alert, so the ploy worked.

‘Well, you’ve taken a chance,’ Toad said in a low voice as he pulled himself into the waterside screen from which Adder hissed his position.

‘Only a slender one if there’s no chance of discovery,’ Adder observed wryly. ‘I want you to look at something, Toad, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That patch of mud,’ Adder indicated in front of them. ‘What do you make of it?’

Toad looked where he was bidden. After a while he said, ‘Nothing much. Unless you mean – oh!’ a little croak of alarm escaped him involuntarily.

‘You see them then?’

‘Paw prints!’

‘I thought as much,’ hissed the snake. ‘But, you
understand, Toad, someone who relies on my sort of locomotion can’t claim to be an expert in such matters.’

‘I take your point,’ said Toad. ‘But there can be no doubt. The frightening thing is –’

‘I know – the size of them. I suppose they’ve been made by a mammal?’

‘Oh yes. No frog or toad in existence could make marks like that.’

‘I first saw them a day or so ago,’ Adder said, ‘and didn’t pay much attention. It’s only now I realize their significance.’

‘Do the others know?’

‘
I’ve
said nothing. I wasn’t sure. Well, Toad, this will put their fur into a bristle.’

‘I wonder if we should tell them? I mean, LOOK! What size must the creature be?’

‘Big enough to kill a deer. No, we can’t leave them in ignorance. They should be prepared.’

‘Prepared for what, Adder? What can they do?’

‘Nothing, I imagine,’ the snake answered bluntly, ‘except – keep their wits about them.’

Toad recalled the birds’ mission. ‘The animal might have been seen by now. Tawny Owl is combing the park.’

‘This creature’s too clever to be found by an owl,’ Adder remarked with a hint of contempt. ‘It’s a master of concealment.’

The notion entered Toad’s head that the Beast might be lying hidden nearby at that moment, and keeping them under observation. He became very nervous. ‘I – I – think we shouldn’t stay here,’ he chattered. ‘It might come back at any moment and – and – we know it’s active at night. Let’s separate.’

‘I think we’re safe enough,’ Adder drawled affectedly,
‘But all right, Toad. Thanks for your advice. My fears were well founded.’

Toad muttered something about seeing Adder again ‘in the usual place’ and hopped hurriedly away. The snake made up his mind to stay awhile in case he might be able to add some more evidence to the existing clues.

In the meantime Tawny Owl was on his second reconnaissance flight. He combed the park methodically, concentrating on the areas most fitted to an animal who wanted to hide itself. But, like the first, this second night of searching produced nothing. Before dawn, Tawny Owl flew wearily to a favourite perch in a beech copse. He was very tired indeed, but was pleased with the way he had carried out his mission. He felt he had left, as it were, no stone unturned. He settled his wings sleepily and, little by little, his big round eyes closed.

The Moon shone brightly over the countryside. White Deer Park shimmered in its glow. Once or twice the owl shifted his grip on the beech bough. It was a bright night, and each branch of the tree was picked out sharply in the moonlight. Tawny Owl dozed. But something – some influence or other – prevented him from sleeping properly, despite his tiredness. He opened one eye and, from his high perch, looked down towards the ground. What he saw nearly caused him to fall from the branch. A huge face, with eyes glinting in the moonlight like live coals, stared up at him.

Tawny Owl lost his grip, overbalanced, flapped his wings frantically and just saved himself from plunging downwards head first. He let out a screech and fought his way awkwardly up through the branches, at last gaining sufficient height to feel safe. He veered away from the
copse and steadied himself as he recovered from his sudden shock. The Beast!

As Tawny Owl calmed down he wondered if any other creature had seen his frightened reaction. He looked all round to see if he was watched and then alighted elsewhere, far enough away from his first spot to be comfortable. Now he wondered if he had imagined what he’d seen. It was so sudden – had he been dreaming? He did not think so, but he knew he ought to go back for a second look. After all, he was quite safe in the air. He thought about it for a while, trying to find valid reasons for not going back. But he could not think of any.

‘Still. It’s probably moved by now. Not much point,’ he told himself unconvincingly. Then he thought of his friends. He owed it to them to make a proper report. He hesitated. Tawny Owl was not lacking in courage, but he really had had a bad fright. The Beast had been so close! At last he stiffened his resolve and took to the air once more, flying on a circular course which eventually brought him back to the borders of the beech copse. He fluttered to and fro uncertainly. Actually to enter the little wood again was extraordinarily difficult.

When he finally did fly in, he went cautiously from one tree to another, stopping each time before moving on. When the tree from which he had seen the Beast came into view, of course there was no sign of any animal, large or small, in its branches. A feeling of great relief flooded over the owl and now he flew right up to the tree for a closer look. Nothing!

‘I shouldn’t have delayed,’ he muttered. ‘It was wrong of me. Two great eyes –
that’s
not much to go on. Now I suppose the thing’s got well away from this place.’ He flew about the copse, examining everything that might yield a clue. But there were no clues, not even footprints,
for last year’s dry leaves were still thick on the ground. And not the slightest rustle disturbed them.

Tawny Owl left the copse and directed his flight towards Fox’s earth. He began to feel quite proud of his news. He, alone of all the Park’s inhabitants, had had a glimpse of the stranger who had come to dominate their lives. It made him very important.

Day broke as he arrived. He called to Fox and Vixen peremptorily. Already his mind was beginning to exaggerate the little he had seen. There were stirrings in the foxes’ den. Vixen peered out.

‘Oh, hallo, Owl,’ she murmured and went promptly back inside again.

‘Wait!’ cried the bird. ‘I’ve news that –’

But Vixen was not listening. Tawny Owl could hear voices inside the earth. He hooted with frustration. He was bursting to tell them of his experience. Then Fox emerged on his own.

‘Have you had any luck, Owl?’ he asked nonchalantly.

‘Luck!’ spluttered the bird. ‘I – I – I’ve SEEN it!’

Fox looked at him sharply. ‘The Beast? The hunter, you mean?’

‘Yes, yes. I came to tell you. I was in a tree and – and it was
enormous
.’

‘Did it attack you?’

‘No. Oh-ho, no. I was too quick for that,’ Tawny Owl boasted. ‘I was asleep, you see, Fox. I awoke and – there it was.’

‘You were asleep? Oh, I understand. And what did the creature look like?’

The suspicion in Fox’s voice was unmistakable and Tawny Owl noticed it at once. Did he think he had imagined it? Well!

‘If that’s your attitude,’ he said resentfully, ‘why should
I continue the story?’

‘Now don’t get in one of your huffs,’ Fox pleaded. ‘But sleep’s a funny thing. We can all –’

‘
All
doesn’t come into it,’ Owl interrupted haughtily. ‘I alone have seen this thing. No one else was around. I was merely dozing after tiring myself out looking for the creature. I tell you I looked down and saw a massive head with gleaming eyes just below me. It was watching me! Do you think I invented it?’

‘No, of course not,’ Fox assured him. ‘But – what was the rest of it like?’

‘Ah well,’ Owl mumbled, ‘now you’re asking. I wasn’t able to see the
rest
.’

Vixen joined them. ‘I overheard most of it,’ she said. ‘There’s to be a meeting in the Hollow. Why doesn’t Tawny Owl tell
everyone
about it then?’ She was addressing Fox.

‘A wise idea. It’s tomorrow at dusk, Owl. Friendly and Charmer will come, and Weasel and Badger. And Whistler, of course. Perhaps he might have seen something too.’

‘I doubt it,’ Tawny Owl remarked jealously. ‘The Beast doesn’t reveal itself in the daylight.’