The Siege of White Deer Park (9 page)

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 Vixen, 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.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Whistler. ‘But wait – this Beast could
still
get at them.’

‘I think we should give the humans credit for a little more sense,’ Fox said wryly. ‘They’re not likely to leave a herd of penned-up deer unguarded, are they? They’re to be protected from its ravages, not left at its mercy.’

‘Of course,’ said the heron. ‘How silly of me.’

‘
And
,’ Fox emphasized, ‘there’s another aspect. The deer might also act as bait to lead the Beast on. Then our clever Warden and his friends will pounce and – the threat is gone!’

‘Poor deer,’ murmured Vixen, ‘to be used in such a way. I hope the Beast will show its cleverness again by seeing sense and leaving this hunting ground.’

As soon as Vixen had finished speaking she and all the others realized at once the implications of what she had said. They looked at one another with serious faces. The thought had occurred simultaneously to them. The Beast might decide not to leave, but simply to change its diet!

Leveret knew that he was the most vulnerable of the group then present. ‘The likes of me and the rabbits will be its fare again,’ he said in a whisper, looking ahead with frightened eyes as if he could visualize this nightmare. ‘None of you are at such risk from it – nor have you ever been.’

‘We must try and look on the bright side,’ Fox told him earnestly. ‘If the Beast has developed a taste for deer, then it might not wish to forgo the treat. So, what happens? It is captured – or destroyed.’

‘I’m not convinced,’ Leveret replied. ‘Thank you for your encouragement, Fox. I know you mean well. But, you see, there’s something about this creature – a kind of – er – invincibility.’

‘Well, we’ll see about that,’ Fox said grimly. ‘In the
meantime, you and your family must lie low and not stray too far.’

‘Oh, we’ve been doing that all along,’ Leveret said. ‘But
that’s
no defence.’

‘Leveret’s right,’ said Tawny Owl. He turned to the hare. ‘I don’t know why you can’t take a lesson from your rabbit cousins and get yourself underground. You lie out in the open with no more than a depression in the ground to hide you.’ He never was the most tactful of beings and Weasel gave him a glare that told him just that.

‘We’re not diggers, Owl,’ Leveret explained simply. ‘We have to rely on our speed.’

Tawny Owl stared back at Weasel, quite unrepentant. Then he went on in the same vein. He made a virtue of bluntness. ‘You’d need some speed, too,’ he commented, turning once more to the hare, ‘to get away from the creature
I
saw.’

Weasel was exasperated. ‘What do you know about it?’ he demanded. ‘Was the Beast running when you saw it?’

‘Er – no, but I –’

‘Well, don’t talk such nonsense then,’ Weasel interrupted him. ‘Leveret’s a timid enough animal as it is.’

Tawny Owl did seem to feel a twinge of regret. ‘I just think it’s better to know the facts,’ he excused himself. ‘I’m sure Leveret understands. I wasn’t trying to frighten him.’

‘It’s all right,’ said the hare. ‘Don’t let’s argue – that won’t help. We’re all in this together, aren’t we?’

‘Of course we are,’ said Tawny Owl promptly. ‘If I can be of any assistance at all you know you can always count on me.’

‘Except for any diplomacy,’ Weasel muttered.

‘Tell me, Owl,’ Whistler said hastily, ‘are you still of the
mind that there is more than one strange beast about?’

Tawny Owl had forgotten his own theory on that matter. ‘Oh – er – well, I can’t be certain about it, Whistler. The facts are beginning to point, I suppose, to there being – er – perhaps just the one.’

He had been caught off guard and felt a trifle awkward about it. He tried to retrieve the situation. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I’ll keep an eye open tonight by this – um – deer pen and see if I can discover anything.’ The animals watched him fly away.

‘Well,’ said Fox. ‘The next few days should tell us if the Warden’s plan will work out or not. The craft of the Beast will really be put to the test.’

Before dusk, Friendly was ready and waiting for the evening’s action. The three younger foxes – Pace, Rusty and Husky – arrived just as darkness began to steal across the Park. Ranger and Trip came last. No word was spoken. They all knew what they were going to do.

Husky took the lead, with Pace and Rusty behind him. They made straight for the fawn’s remains they had found the night before. As they neared the place they slowed and went much more carefully. As usual, they paused periodically to listen. They reached the carcass. There were only bones and skin left. Friendly sniffed vigorously at the carcass and then at the ground all about. The others followed suit.

‘The smell of blood is very strong,’ Friendly said in a low voice. ‘And there’s something else – something recognizable.’ He was thoroughly absorbed. ‘Yes, it’s the same as before. It’s the creature’s scent all right. The question is – where does it lead?’ With his muzzle bent low, he moved about, this way and that, making patterns over the ground. Then he gave a bark of excitement. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘This way!’

He was following the strongest scent; the one made most recently. The other foxes followed him through the undergrowth. The youngsters’ hearts were beating wildly.

‘Keep your eyes and ears at full alert,’ Friendly turned to say. ‘Leave the tracking to me.’

They went on slowly. The undergrowth gave way to open grassy ground. Much of it was still soft from the frequent spring showers of rain. Suddenly, Friendly stopped. He turned round. His eyes were glistening. ‘Look!’ he said triumphantly.

Amongst the short grass there was a small patch of bare earth dotted with plantain. In the centre of it, almost as if left deliberately to assist them, was a huge pawprint.

‘We’re really on to something, this time,’ said Friendly. ‘Here’s an unmistakable clue.’

They all stared at it. It seemed obvious that it had been made quite recently. Only Ranger seemed unhappy. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It could be a trap.’

‘A trap!’ cried the young foxes together.

‘What are you getting at, Ranger?’ Friendly asked him quietly.

‘Isn’t it too obvious a clue?’ he returned.

‘Nonsense!’ was Friendly’s immediate reaction. ‘Do you mean it’s trying to lure us –’ He broke off. He looked at Ranger and considered. ‘There may be something in
that,’ he murmured. ‘How are we to tell?’ He was pensive for a while. Then he shook himself out of his reverie. ‘Anyway, if you’re correct,’ he said, ‘then so be it.’ Friendly looked determined. ‘Our friend will find he has more than he bargained for.’

The foxes proceeded on the trail but with noticeably more caution. They crossed the open ground and now the scent led them under some trees. They found themselves in a small copse. It was not one they had been to before. Pace, Rusty and Husky were feeling the strain of having their eyes and ears as it were stretched to their limit. Ranger and Trip showed no sign of their feelings, but they all were expecting something to happen. Friendly came to a stop at the foot of a tree. He went round the tree, trying to trace where the scent led. Then he sat down, looking puzzled. The rest of the group regarded him, but could not find their voices. The skin on their backs began to crawl. Slowly they raised their heads.

Friendly followed their eyes and, as he did so, a most unearthly snarl ripped through the stillness of the copse. In the next instant a huge creature leapt from the tree and landed directly beside Husky. With a vicious blow from a front paw it tumbled the fox over. The beast’s jaws fastened on the scruff of his neck and he was lifted helplessly, legs dangling, as with one bound the creature whirled around and vaulted back into the tree. Its claws raked the bark as it raced up the trunk to its vantage point in a broad lofty branch. The five foxes barked furiously from the ground. Their fur was raised, their lips curled back to reveal their fangs, while their eyes gleamed with anger. But they were helpless. The beast retained its grip on the struggling Husky as securely as if he had been no more than a rabbit. There was a look of malevolence
about the creature as it glared down at them which made their barks sputter into silence. The foxes were helpless and they knew it.

‘It was – a trap,’ Ranger muttered almost inaudibly. They stared up through the darkness, aware of their utter powerlessness in the face of this monster. All they could see was its shining eyes – eyes that seemed to mock their weakness. For some time they remained rooted to the spot. They were unable to think of any action they could take. They felt as if the Beast’s influence had frozen their limbs into immobility.

At last Friendly said hoarsely, ‘We must get help.’ He had no idea what help they could look for, nor where they could look for it. It was a blind reaction from their situation put into words.

‘But we can’t leave . . .’ began Pace. His voice faltered and he lapsed into silence.

None of the others spoke. They dared not look at each other. Then, with drooping head, Friendly began to move away. He knew that, even if they should stay there until dawn, they could achieve nothing. The others followed him forlornly. From his terrifying height Husky witnessed their departure with the keenest agony.

As soon as the Beast was satisfied that the foxes had gone on their way, it released its grip. Husky fell like a stone to the ground.

When they were some distance from the copse the foxes began to give vent to their feelings. The natural course was to look for a culprit to blame for what had happened. So it followed that Friendly became the target.

‘It was very foolhardy to come on this venture,’ said Trip. ‘It was your idea, Friendly. You might have known it could only end like this.’

‘I guessed it would be a mistake from the start,’ Ranger
concurred. ‘Now see what you’ve led us into.’